A Lifting Fog
Aug. 28th, 2007 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shankieI had to stop writing for a little while.
Not for very long, but everything got kick-started by telling my friend Candy about Pirates backstory. She loves Wally. XD
But I did write a few things in the last few months. Mostly just scraps, but, also this. :D
A Lifting Fog
This one? Superman/Batman. A high 'R' for sex acts in public.
Showtime
"Where is Oberon!?" Barda's voice called, piercing the air with enough urgency that Clark took a less roundabout way to land in the chaos of the Free's backyard. Scott was giving her a placating look as she finished locking a set of chains around his upper torso. "Am I to be doing all the work this time?" she growled.
"No, sweetie. I'm sure he'll be..." His 'here' was muffled with Barda's cleavage smothering his face while she hoisted him up on the rig he was dangling ever so slightly off the ground from.
Clark knew where he was. He didn't quite believe it, but he'd seen it with his own eyes at the Embassy. An aging three-foot carny making out with a statuesque Brazilian beauty in a broom closet. The suspicious 'thud' he'd heard, well... he'd just kept walking.
"Afternoon," Clark greeted brightly, strolling forward with his hands in his slacks once he'd landed on the grass. The ground was littered with traps, props, pieces of stage and broken chains. "Is this a good..?"
"Would I have had you come if it wasn't?" Barda snapped in the friendliest way one can bark an order. "Get over here and pick him up."
"Alright."
Scott waved with one of his hands, locked against his chest, and shrugged as much as the chains allowed. "Hi," he said, as Clark hoisted the contraption in his left hand, hovering up until Barda was satisfied and began fixing part of the heavy platform underneath.
Both of them were looking down Barda's little white shirt until she looked up and snarled and they pretended they hadn't been. Truly bothered by Oberon's absence more than Scott, who only seemed a bit worried about her, tiny worry lines between his dark eyebrows.
"I think Oberon's a little busy," Clark offered conversationally. "Is he... seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of," Scott replied.
"Well... I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can."
"Spill it, Mr. Reporter."
"I don't think..."
Barda stood up quickly, shoved her finger in Clark's face, and was magnificent in her fury. "If some little wench is the reason he's late, she'd better be worth it. Who is he dallying with?"
"He's... playing with Fire."
Scott started laughing and Barda rolled her eyes, then knelt back down with her power tools. The mood lifted.
"Well, that's good to know," she said. "I can take her, should the need arise."
"I think you could take any woman on the planet," Clark commented.
"I think you mean any person," Scott whispered.
"She caught me by surprise, I didn't expect..."
"Barda cold-cocked you into next Tuesday. It's no shame to admit it."
"Well... she's good with that Mega Rod."
"Yeah," Scott sighed dreamily.
"Set him back down," Barda grunted, the sound of shifting metal as she pushed a last piece into place. "Easy... there. Good."
A drill whined and the whole thing was made steady as Clark let go and stepped back.
"I can't believe I'm doing this again," Scott sighed. "Touring. I just want a quiet life, get the Fix-It shop open..."
"We need the money, dear."
"If you'd stop destroying our furniture, we might not need it quite so much."
"Oh please. That sofa was free."
"Fixing the window you threw it out wasn't."
"I'm sure Bruce might..." Clark offered, but the looks he got stopped him. "I mean, if you're in a bind." Barda squeezed her eyes shut and giggled.
"We don't want the rich boy's charity," she reminded him. "Other things, though..." She winked and finished her last adjustments, then bent down to give her husband a wet kiss. "Playtime is later, though. Put those drums in that container, would you?" She pointed at a hefty pile and could only be talking to Clark.
So he did.
* * *
After a great deal of technical difficulty in New York, the Mister Miracle World Tour came to Metropolis. The excitement was the only reason Lois wanted to go, hoping for another disaster to report on, but so far the lights were still on and light music was playing over the crowd as they milled through the stadium's seats. Lois and Clark were above the crowd, in a private box that reminded Clark of the inside of a limousine.
"So, how is it you know Scott Free?" Lois looked uncommonly relaxed for once, settled comfortably in the chair, sipping a martini she'd made for herself from the mini fridge.
It wasn't like Clark could just tell her I slept with Scott's wife and then got in on their marital bliss. With Batman.
"Well, uh, we met..."
"On a cruise in Alaska. We should do it again sometime." Clark and Lois turned as Bruce Wayne strolled in, larger than life, a ringlet-haired brunette looking a little out of it on his arm. "Lois, it's so good to see you again."
Bruce sat heavily in one of the plush seats, his date half on his lap as she giggled and wiggled her fingers at the reporters. "Hey Brucie, who's this? I thought we were going to be... alone."
"That's what I get for being in with the talent," he chuckled, squeezing her knee through pink lace.
"Wayne," Clark greeted impatiently. Rolling his eyes. Bruce's act might be convincing to the woman, but Clark could see that his body temperature was even and uninterested. It didn't seem fair to her.
"Kent, Kent, Kent," Bruce clucked as if admonishing him. "Can't go anywhere in this city without running into you."
"I'm sure it's just bad luck."
"I'm sure."
"Well," Lois announced, standing up sharply. "The testosterone in here is stifling. I think I'll go visit the ladies' room."
"Yeah, me too," the arm decoration slurred, and unsteadily followed heels clicking testily on the floor. "Wait up!" she called as the door shut.
Bruce and Clark were left alone, sharing a meaningful look.
"What's her name?"
"I don't think she mentioned it. How's Lois?"
"Having vengeful hate-sex with Lex," Clark sighed. "Does that every few years."
"I knew them when they were together," Bruce mused, watching the light-show on the field idly.
"It's hard to imagine."
"It was hard to watch. Caught him with his secretary, you know. I think he meant for it to happen."
"Knowing Luthor? I just wonder why."
"Hate-sex."
It occurred to Clark that they were gossiping like old ladies over a picket fence. Talking wasn't what he really wanted to be doing. "Riiiight."
"Mmm. I'm sure you'd know nothing about that."
"No. Nothing." They smirked at each other, and then... Bruce's body temperature went up. Clark could smell a musk of arousal under his cologne. Intoxicating, bidding him to keep their eyes locked a long moment. "Come here," Clark whispered.
Bruce looked forward, still smirking, shrugging out of his jacket like he'd not heard it. He pulled his cellphone casually out of his pocket, set it in the cupholder on the end of the armrest, and stood up slowly.
Clark leaned back and watched him come over and sink between his knees lightly, sliding his well-manicured hands up Clark's thighs. Well-moisturized callouses, neatly trimmed nails. Finally looking up at him again, heavy-lidded, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I wonder what my date would think," Bruce chuckled softly, arching forward over his lap. "If she walked in right now."
"You should be nicer to your dates."
"I can be nice." Bruce looked something wicked as his fingertips bent under Clark's waistband, popping open the button with his thumb. The zipper fell open and he went back to teasing Clark's thighs. "I can prove it."
"Now?" Clark was still a little... surprised. The last time he'd seen him, Batman was snarling at him for being reckless. Apparently he didn't take his own advice.
The speaker crackled, then Oberon's lofty stage voice filtered in. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the most amazing show on Earth, the master of escape, the man who seeks danger... Mister Miracle!"
There was a roar of applause as Bruce breathed hotly through Clark's thin pants, his lips pressing against his straining erection. He pulled away the fabric with his mouth, pulled out his cock with just his tongue. Clark squeezed the ends of the armrests and groaned in pleasure.
His hand moved from the armrest to Bruce's head, fingers in his stiff black hair as it began bobbing up and down. Bruce's fingers were caressing Clark's balls and the base of the shaft, making satisfied little noises as he continued working his lips and his tongue.
They could be caught any moment, a thrill like danger.
"Yes," Clark whispered.
From down on his knees, Bruce had Clark like putty in his hands. Moaning and slurping like he was enjoying it just as much. So very nice.
The sound of creaking metal came through the speakers as Clark went rigid, an explosion as he felt his orgasm rush out of him. The armrest cracked and he took his hand off Bruce's head to grip the air beside it.
Sweat dampened his collar as he caught his breath and loosened his tie. Bruce put Clark's pants back together, licked his lips, and leaned forward over Clark with satisfaction. "You should see the silly look on your face," Bruce chuckled, and quickly kissed whatever it was away.
Bruce lingered, then made himself a virgin martini and stirred the olive around as he sat back in his chair, watching the show like it had never happened.
When Lois came back, it was like a hurricane, hauling the nameless date on one arm as she'd apparently lost the ability to walk in a straight line. "Just charming," Lois snipped, tossing her ungracefully into the chair beside Bruce.
Lois made herself another drink and complained loudly about the tight security. "You'd think I was a terrorist, with the attitude they gave me!"
"I can get you in later," Clark said evenly.
"Right, well, there's a lot that's fishy about that last show. I'm sure they'll hide all the good stuff by then." She sat down huffily and pulled a compact out of her purse, dusting a little foundation on her forehead before she snapped it shut. "And Miss Congeniality here I found wandering through the concession stands like she had no idea what was going on. Your taste is impeccable as ever, Bruce."
Bruce smiled helplessly and held out his drink with a shrug. Not looking at all innocent. "She's not really my date. She just didn't go away after the club."
"You're an asshole," she replied dismissively.
On the stage, Barda was wrapping Scott up in an elaborate set of knots in steel cabling. Her muscles gleamed with sweat under the bright lights, just as brilliantly as the red metal of her bikini look.
"She's having fun," Bruce offered. Talking about the date, but perhaps both.
"Aren't we all."
"Yep," Clark added, at little more emphatic than he maybe should have, and Lois gave him a look. "What? The show's great."
"Uh-huh," Lois and Bruce responded in unison. Lois looked ruffled and began ignoring them, Clark still not sure what she had meant by that.
"She has a point," Clark remarked. "You should take her home. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do." He looked over and met a serious look in Bruce's eyes. He nodded and Clark saw, for just a second, how little Bruce liked the masquerade.
Bruce stood up and took the woman's hand, helping her to her feet.
"Goodnight, Lois," he said as they left. "Kent."
It was quiet for a spell, as Lois and Clark listened to Oberon announcing the next feat on the stage.
There was an explosion.
Their heads snapped up to attention as Oberon was cut off prematurely and disorder broke out in the center of the stadium. At first, they couldn't just what had happened, until Clark looked closer and saw masked men with advanced weaponry flooding through the entrances and exits, a group surging forth toward where Barda had been caught off guard, taking most of the initial blast.
Barda was attacked first, burns on her body, a rabid look on her face as she set into them and was met by unexpected strength.
The crowd burst into panicked chaos.
Scott burst out of his trap and sent an expanding net at a group of gunmen, but was hit in the back by a blast, and Clark looked at Lois, then the door. She was already on her phone, taking rapid verbal notes.
Clark ran out as she went up to the glass, ducking out of the attention of a pair of goons coming down the hall just long enough to change, suit for uniform.
Superman burst down the hall, grabbing their fancy guns, crushing them in his hands as he sent the men flying into the walls and a daze, not stopping to fly out under the lights of center stage. He pulled two of the pumped-up super-goons off Barda, twisted to meet a weapon blast with his forearm. It hurt and he hesitated just long enough to get hit from the side by a howling super-strong meathead in their same black, a scarred snarl under his mask.
He wasn't at all surprised at the smell of burning flash-powder and Batman leaping into the fray with electrified brass knuckles, gracefully avoiding the blows to land his own. Scott laughed as he sailed past him and used his cape to snatch up another gunman in his cape. "Now this is entertainment!"
In spite of himself, Clark cracked a smile for just a second.
The crowd had stopped running away, and were now... cheering them on. Clark shook his head and squarely landed a punch. "Friends of yours?"
"Somehow I doubt it," Bruce grunted as he wove past. "You'll be happy to know Denise is on her way home safely."
"I am."
Barda unleashed an unholy war-cry and a pack of black-clad bodies went flying. "Filthy mongrels!" she cried, "I'll crush your heads to dust!"
"Be a dear and secure the perimeter," Bruce murmured to Clark, before working his way back into the thick of it gathering around Scott.
Clark shook his head and flew up, following and handling the men on the outside, all equipped to and rather well fending off the police behind barricades and their advanced tech.
They were all facing their opponents outside the doors, and never saw Superman coming. He left them neatly tied up for the officers.
By the time he was finished, the battle in the stadium was, too. Batman had already slipped back into the shadows while Barda was interrogating an unmasked and justifiably terrified attacker.
"What did you mean by coming here?!?"
"I can't, I can't..."
"Tell. Me." She lifted him into the air by his forearm, let him dangle as he tried to wiggle loose. "Or you'll lose that arm."
"We were paid! Two million cash, never saw the client, standard practice, I swear to God!"
"He's telling the truth, Barda," Clark said in his Superman voice. "Put him down."
She did, albeit irritably. "If we ever make it through a show, that'll be the miracle."
Oberon crawled out from a box he'd been hiding in, looking around disapprovingly in his wrinkled tuxedo. "You said it, doll. They liked it, though." He pointed at the audience, who were... cheering and applauding thunderously, ignoring the police that had begun swarming inside. "Bet nobody asks for a refund."
"Well," Scott said lightly, clapping his hands together. "That's something, right?"
Not for very long, but everything got kick-started by telling my friend Candy about Pirates backstory. She loves Wally. XD
But I did write a few things in the last few months. Mostly just scraps, but, also this. :D
A Lifting Fog
This one? Superman/Batman. A high 'R' for sex acts in public.
Showtime
"Where is Oberon!?" Barda's voice called, piercing the air with enough urgency that Clark took a less roundabout way to land in the chaos of the Free's backyard. Scott was giving her a placating look as she finished locking a set of chains around his upper torso. "Am I to be doing all the work this time?" she growled.
"No, sweetie. I'm sure he'll be..." His 'here' was muffled with Barda's cleavage smothering his face while she hoisted him up on the rig he was dangling ever so slightly off the ground from.
Clark knew where he was. He didn't quite believe it, but he'd seen it with his own eyes at the Embassy. An aging three-foot carny making out with a statuesque Brazilian beauty in a broom closet. The suspicious 'thud' he'd heard, well... he'd just kept walking.
"Afternoon," Clark greeted brightly, strolling forward with his hands in his slacks once he'd landed on the grass. The ground was littered with traps, props, pieces of stage and broken chains. "Is this a good..?"
"Would I have had you come if it wasn't?" Barda snapped in the friendliest way one can bark an order. "Get over here and pick him up."
"Alright."
Scott waved with one of his hands, locked against his chest, and shrugged as much as the chains allowed. "Hi," he said, as Clark hoisted the contraption in his left hand, hovering up until Barda was satisfied and began fixing part of the heavy platform underneath.
Both of them were looking down Barda's little white shirt until she looked up and snarled and they pretended they hadn't been. Truly bothered by Oberon's absence more than Scott, who only seemed a bit worried about her, tiny worry lines between his dark eyebrows.
"I think Oberon's a little busy," Clark offered conversationally. "Is he... seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of," Scott replied.
"Well... I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can."
"Spill it, Mr. Reporter."
"I don't think..."
Barda stood up quickly, shoved her finger in Clark's face, and was magnificent in her fury. "If some little wench is the reason he's late, she'd better be worth it. Who is he dallying with?"
"He's... playing with Fire."
Scott started laughing and Barda rolled her eyes, then knelt back down with her power tools. The mood lifted.
"Well, that's good to know," she said. "I can take her, should the need arise."
"I think you could take any woman on the planet," Clark commented.
"I think you mean any person," Scott whispered.
"She caught me by surprise, I didn't expect..."
"Barda cold-cocked you into next Tuesday. It's no shame to admit it."
"Well... she's good with that Mega Rod."
"Yeah," Scott sighed dreamily.
"Set him back down," Barda grunted, the sound of shifting metal as she pushed a last piece into place. "Easy... there. Good."
A drill whined and the whole thing was made steady as Clark let go and stepped back.
"I can't believe I'm doing this again," Scott sighed. "Touring. I just want a quiet life, get the Fix-It shop open..."
"We need the money, dear."
"If you'd stop destroying our furniture, we might not need it quite so much."
"Oh please. That sofa was free."
"Fixing the window you threw it out wasn't."
"I'm sure Bruce might..." Clark offered, but the looks he got stopped him. "I mean, if you're in a bind." Barda squeezed her eyes shut and giggled.
"We don't want the rich boy's charity," she reminded him. "Other things, though..." She winked and finished her last adjustments, then bent down to give her husband a wet kiss. "Playtime is later, though. Put those drums in that container, would you?" She pointed at a hefty pile and could only be talking to Clark.
So he did.
After a great deal of technical difficulty in New York, the Mister Miracle World Tour came to Metropolis. The excitement was the only reason Lois wanted to go, hoping for another disaster to report on, but so far the lights were still on and light music was playing over the crowd as they milled through the stadium's seats. Lois and Clark were above the crowd, in a private box that reminded Clark of the inside of a limousine.
"So, how is it you know Scott Free?" Lois looked uncommonly relaxed for once, settled comfortably in the chair, sipping a martini she'd made for herself from the mini fridge.
It wasn't like Clark could just tell her I slept with Scott's wife and then got in on their marital bliss. With Batman.
"Well, uh, we met..."
"On a cruise in Alaska. We should do it again sometime." Clark and Lois turned as Bruce Wayne strolled in, larger than life, a ringlet-haired brunette looking a little out of it on his arm. "Lois, it's so good to see you again."
Bruce sat heavily in one of the plush seats, his date half on his lap as she giggled and wiggled her fingers at the reporters. "Hey Brucie, who's this? I thought we were going to be... alone."
"That's what I get for being in with the talent," he chuckled, squeezing her knee through pink lace.
"Wayne," Clark greeted impatiently. Rolling his eyes. Bruce's act might be convincing to the woman, but Clark could see that his body temperature was even and uninterested. It didn't seem fair to her.
"Kent, Kent, Kent," Bruce clucked as if admonishing him. "Can't go anywhere in this city without running into you."
"I'm sure it's just bad luck."
"I'm sure."
"Well," Lois announced, standing up sharply. "The testosterone in here is stifling. I think I'll go visit the ladies' room."
"Yeah, me too," the arm decoration slurred, and unsteadily followed heels clicking testily on the floor. "Wait up!" she called as the door shut.
Bruce and Clark were left alone, sharing a meaningful look.
"What's her name?"
"I don't think she mentioned it. How's Lois?"
"Having vengeful hate-sex with Lex," Clark sighed. "Does that every few years."
"I knew them when they were together," Bruce mused, watching the light-show on the field idly.
"It's hard to imagine."
"It was hard to watch. Caught him with his secretary, you know. I think he meant for it to happen."
"Knowing Luthor? I just wonder why."
"Hate-sex."
It occurred to Clark that they were gossiping like old ladies over a picket fence. Talking wasn't what he really wanted to be doing. "Riiiight."
"Mmm. I'm sure you'd know nothing about that."
"No. Nothing." They smirked at each other, and then... Bruce's body temperature went up. Clark could smell a musk of arousal under his cologne. Intoxicating, bidding him to keep their eyes locked a long moment. "Come here," Clark whispered.
Bruce looked forward, still smirking, shrugging out of his jacket like he'd not heard it. He pulled his cellphone casually out of his pocket, set it in the cupholder on the end of the armrest, and stood up slowly.
Clark leaned back and watched him come over and sink between his knees lightly, sliding his well-manicured hands up Clark's thighs. Well-moisturized callouses, neatly trimmed nails. Finally looking up at him again, heavy-lidded, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I wonder what my date would think," Bruce chuckled softly, arching forward over his lap. "If she walked in right now."
"You should be nicer to your dates."
"I can be nice." Bruce looked something wicked as his fingertips bent under Clark's waistband, popping open the button with his thumb. The zipper fell open and he went back to teasing Clark's thighs. "I can prove it."
"Now?" Clark was still a little... surprised. The last time he'd seen him, Batman was snarling at him for being reckless. Apparently he didn't take his own advice.
The speaker crackled, then Oberon's lofty stage voice filtered in. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the most amazing show on Earth, the master of escape, the man who seeks danger... Mister Miracle!"
There was a roar of applause as Bruce breathed hotly through Clark's thin pants, his lips pressing against his straining erection. He pulled away the fabric with his mouth, pulled out his cock with just his tongue. Clark squeezed the ends of the armrests and groaned in pleasure.
His hand moved from the armrest to Bruce's head, fingers in his stiff black hair as it began bobbing up and down. Bruce's fingers were caressing Clark's balls and the base of the shaft, making satisfied little noises as he continued working his lips and his tongue.
They could be caught any moment, a thrill like danger.
"Yes," Clark whispered.
From down on his knees, Bruce had Clark like putty in his hands. Moaning and slurping like he was enjoying it just as much. So very nice.
The sound of creaking metal came through the speakers as Clark went rigid, an explosion as he felt his orgasm rush out of him. The armrest cracked and he took his hand off Bruce's head to grip the air beside it.
Sweat dampened his collar as he caught his breath and loosened his tie. Bruce put Clark's pants back together, licked his lips, and leaned forward over Clark with satisfaction. "You should see the silly look on your face," Bruce chuckled, and quickly kissed whatever it was away.
Bruce lingered, then made himself a virgin martini and stirred the olive around as he sat back in his chair, watching the show like it had never happened.
When Lois came back, it was like a hurricane, hauling the nameless date on one arm as she'd apparently lost the ability to walk in a straight line. "Just charming," Lois snipped, tossing her ungracefully into the chair beside Bruce.
Lois made herself another drink and complained loudly about the tight security. "You'd think I was a terrorist, with the attitude they gave me!"
"I can get you in later," Clark said evenly.
"Right, well, there's a lot that's fishy about that last show. I'm sure they'll hide all the good stuff by then." She sat down huffily and pulled a compact out of her purse, dusting a little foundation on her forehead before she snapped it shut. "And Miss Congeniality here I found wandering through the concession stands like she had no idea what was going on. Your taste is impeccable as ever, Bruce."
Bruce smiled helplessly and held out his drink with a shrug. Not looking at all innocent. "She's not really my date. She just didn't go away after the club."
"You're an asshole," she replied dismissively.
On the stage, Barda was wrapping Scott up in an elaborate set of knots in steel cabling. Her muscles gleamed with sweat under the bright lights, just as brilliantly as the red metal of her bikini look.
"She's having fun," Bruce offered. Talking about the date, but perhaps both.
"Aren't we all."
"Yep," Clark added, at little more emphatic than he maybe should have, and Lois gave him a look. "What? The show's great."
"Uh-huh," Lois and Bruce responded in unison. Lois looked ruffled and began ignoring them, Clark still not sure what she had meant by that.
"She has a point," Clark remarked. "You should take her home. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do." He looked over and met a serious look in Bruce's eyes. He nodded and Clark saw, for just a second, how little Bruce liked the masquerade.
Bruce stood up and took the woman's hand, helping her to her feet.
"Goodnight, Lois," he said as they left. "Kent."
It was quiet for a spell, as Lois and Clark listened to Oberon announcing the next feat on the stage.
There was an explosion.
Their heads snapped up to attention as Oberon was cut off prematurely and disorder broke out in the center of the stadium. At first, they couldn't just what had happened, until Clark looked closer and saw masked men with advanced weaponry flooding through the entrances and exits, a group surging forth toward where Barda had been caught off guard, taking most of the initial blast.
Barda was attacked first, burns on her body, a rabid look on her face as she set into them and was met by unexpected strength.
The crowd burst into panicked chaos.
Scott burst out of his trap and sent an expanding net at a group of gunmen, but was hit in the back by a blast, and Clark looked at Lois, then the door. She was already on her phone, taking rapid verbal notes.
Clark ran out as she went up to the glass, ducking out of the attention of a pair of goons coming down the hall just long enough to change, suit for uniform.
Superman burst down the hall, grabbing their fancy guns, crushing them in his hands as he sent the men flying into the walls and a daze, not stopping to fly out under the lights of center stage. He pulled two of the pumped-up super-goons off Barda, twisted to meet a weapon blast with his forearm. It hurt and he hesitated just long enough to get hit from the side by a howling super-strong meathead in their same black, a scarred snarl under his mask.
He wasn't at all surprised at the smell of burning flash-powder and Batman leaping into the fray with electrified brass knuckles, gracefully avoiding the blows to land his own. Scott laughed as he sailed past him and used his cape to snatch up another gunman in his cape. "Now this is entertainment!"
In spite of himself, Clark cracked a smile for just a second.
The crowd had stopped running away, and were now... cheering them on. Clark shook his head and squarely landed a punch. "Friends of yours?"
"Somehow I doubt it," Bruce grunted as he wove past. "You'll be happy to know Denise is on her way home safely."
"I am."
Barda unleashed an unholy war-cry and a pack of black-clad bodies went flying. "Filthy mongrels!" she cried, "I'll crush your heads to dust!"
"Be a dear and secure the perimeter," Bruce murmured to Clark, before working his way back into the thick of it gathering around Scott.
Clark shook his head and flew up, following and handling the men on the outside, all equipped to and rather well fending off the police behind barricades and their advanced tech.
They were all facing their opponents outside the doors, and never saw Superman coming. He left them neatly tied up for the officers.
By the time he was finished, the battle in the stadium was, too. Batman had already slipped back into the shadows while Barda was interrogating an unmasked and justifiably terrified attacker.
"What did you mean by coming here?!?"
"I can't, I can't..."
"Tell. Me." She lifted him into the air by his forearm, let him dangle as he tried to wiggle loose. "Or you'll lose that arm."
"We were paid! Two million cash, never saw the client, standard practice, I swear to God!"
"He's telling the truth, Barda," Clark said in his Superman voice. "Put him down."
She did, albeit irritably. "If we ever make it through a show, that'll be the miracle."
Oberon crawled out from a box he'd been hiding in, looking around disapprovingly in his wrinkled tuxedo. "You said it, doll. They liked it, though." He pointed at the audience, who were... cheering and applauding thunderously, ignoring the police that had begun swarming inside. "Bet nobody asks for a refund."
"Well," Scott said lightly, clapping his hands together. "That's something, right?"
no subject
on 2007-08-29 02:50 am (UTC)You know, your Clark and Bruce have such a great *chemistry*. That scene in the private box was like music. I just loved it. And Scott and Barda are just great.
Bravo!
I'd beg you for more but I don't want to push my luck..oh, hell, more soon...please? Pretty please with sugar? :))
no subject
on 2007-08-29 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-08-29 07:51 pm (UTC)love this series so much. :)
always looking forward to more - and that scene w/ bruce and clark and the....yeah.
so hot. XD
no subject
on 2007-08-29 08:24 pm (UTC)Thank you! :)
no subject
on 2007-09-03 05:54 pm (UTC)It's nice seeing your take on the Bruce/Clark dynamic. You always make it look so easy and hot.
Gotta say that public sex could become my newest kink thanks to you.
no subject
on 2007-09-03 11:52 pm (UTC)I really am starting to get a thing for sex in public to go nicely beside the group sex bit. I'm glad I could lure you in, too. Woo! XD
no subject
on 2007-09-12 10:21 pm (UTC)It wasn't like Clark could just tell her I slept with Scott's wife and then got in on their marital bliss. With Batman.
When you put it that way, it sounds so wrong, and yet it's so right!
"Be a dear and secure the perimeter," Bruce murmured to Clark.
*flails* I LOVE YOU FOR THIS LINE. It fits so perfectly with the dynamic you have with these two...
And oh yes, body-temperature monitoring and hot hot oral sex, and much identity porn...this fic was perfection. *squishes everyone in it together happily*
no subject
on 2007-09-12 10:59 pm (UTC)I questioned putting that line in, actually. Almost took it out, but, I'm glad I didn't. :)
And yeah, Superman's powers are awful fun to play with.
Identity porn! Hee! That's so great. :D
no subject
on 2007-09-21 05:57 pm (UTC)Though, yay! exhibitionists, those two. the thrill of being caught, oh Clark. You crazy kid, you. I love your Lois here, btw. She's just.. annoyed and right, that's for sure. She knows there's something going on! ...something fishy, yes sir. Bruce's date was hilarious, he's such an ass! *grins*
Hawt hawt blowjob. Mad props at Bruce or doing everything with his mouth, btw! mrooow! Bet Clark liked that too :)
Barda! <3! Filthy mongrels! she's so feisty :P I love everybody's interactions, heroes and lovers at the same time. The 'be a dear and secure the perimeter'!!! X) You rock! ..I have new From Mars with Love that I haven't read, meep! *scurried away*
no subject
on 2007-09-21 06:16 pm (UTC)Yes, Bruce can certainly be an ass. But, he's very good at what he does. ::laughs:: And so is Lois. If she wasn't trying to get through Mister Miracle's security, I'm sure she would have...
Thank you, thank you! :)
There's more Pirates, too. Just a little. XD I'm working on updating both of those again right now, but, we'll see.
no subject
on 2009-05-07 02:55 am (UTC)It was a fun read though and like the idea of Mr. Miracle and Bruce. Big Barda is a blast. XD