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First times

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First times

Beitragvon C_K_unlimited » So 20. Nov 2011, 23:19

I just realized I haven't posted my FicGrab entry from June 2011 on ESc yet. :o This had to be changed immediately. So here it is:

First times
author: barb1808 (on ESc) /C_K_unlimited
verse: crossover Superman/Batman
prompt: imperfect
words: 1023

Warning: fluffy and slashy (but still nothing dirty), not beta-ed.



The first time I saw him was in the newspaper, on page one. A heroic picture of this amazing man saving people flying with a bright red cape and in blue tights that matched his eyes. Like everyone else I was awed by his beauty and bravery and the fact that he flew. He was so perfect.

I was even more captured when I heard him speaking on a TV interview. His voice so strong and yet soft that it wrapped itself around me like a tender blanket. I could get lost in that voice as I nearly got lost in his eyes. So blue and deep. He was perfect.

The first time I saw him in person I didn't know it was him. Still he caught my attention. This bumbling reporter that wrote such brilliant articles and tumbled over his spoken words like he did over his own feet. The ever down-sliding glasses and a suit way too big even for a man as tall as him. But his slouching and acting couldn't cover all his beauty. This imperfect man with his clumsy movements made me smile. Somewhere deep inside he touched me.

The first time we spoke to each other as equals was special. We were both in our costumes, dirt and blood on them, coloring our capes. The wind sent chills over me. But I wasn't sure if it was because I was covered in sweat from the heroic act we had just done or if it was because his blue eyes looked right into mine.
Anyway it felt like he was seeing right through me. How could I think we were equals? He was Superman. He was perfect. I was just the Bat, a mere human full of scars, doubts and imperfection.

The next time I saw Clark Kent he was different. He was still the nerdy clumsy reporter but the looks he gave me were sending me other questions than his mouth was asking. He was confusing. In front of my mind's eye I saw flashing images of Superman that made it difficult to concentrate on Clark. And once more I felt small and imperfect.

Then there was a quite long period when we didn't meet in person. I saw him on the news and read Clark's articles about Superman and other things amazed by the wide variety of topics he was covering, always backed up with a big enough amount of background information.

One day I sent him an e-mail telling him how much I liked his work. I still don't know why I did such an act of fan-behavior. But I'm glad I did it because from that one message on we established a quite regular friendly contact that showed me what a perfect mix of imperfections Clark Kent was.

The next time I was in Metropolis we met for some coffee. Looking back one could call it our first date, although back then it didn't feel like that. Anyway over the second cup I finally found the courage to ask him if he could use the contact of his to pass a message to Superman. He just nodded and smiled taking the folded paper I gave him. Five minutes after we departed I had an e-mail of Superman on my blackberry. My heart skipped a beat when I read that he agreed to meet with Batman again.

The meeting at midnight on the roof of the Daily Planet was a little awkward at first. But while explaining to him how we should make something like a team, with each member having his territory and being there for backup for each other I forgot about it. He listened interested and nodded in all the right places. When I was finished he smiled, extended his hand and said in that beautiful voice of his: “I'd love to work on a team with you. Maybe we can get in contact with others too. I heard rumors about other vigilantes and heroes in other cities who probably could help as well.”

We decided to keep in touch on our progresses of recruiting others and discussing details and departed with good wishes.

From that day on I had a vivid e-mail conversation with both Clark and Superman. While the back and forth with the hero was a lot more formal I always looked forward to responses of both of them. And the more I read their messages the more I got confused. When I was tired I had to focus pretty hard to keep them apart because their style of writing was – formalities aside – pretty similar. One day I was so tired that I accidentally replied to Clark using Superman's address. Right after I hit the 'send' button I realized my mistake. But before I could finish writing an apology the instant messaging I used with Superman opened.

'How did you find out?'

The message flashed a few times leaving me at utter shock. But then the pieces all fell in place. It still took me a few minutes and several messages from Clark 'Bruce?!?!' to reply. When I explained that it wasn't on purpose he was quiet for several minutes. But then I decided I'd tell him my secret too. So I asked him to come over to Gotham.

If Alfred was surprised when Superman paid us a visit he didn't say or show anything, he just brought him down into the cave where the hero nearly crumbled into the reporter taking in everything. After that we sat down and talked the rest of the night about how we became who we were and our difficulties in juggling two identities. In between we compared leads and information about criminals and whom we were currently seducing into our team of heroes. It felt good to talk freely to him. Alfred brought coffee and some of his delicious cookies. It was the first time I was free to be the real me with anyone other than Alfred and I enjoyed it. It was perfect.

Now after years of knowing Clark, being his friend, his partner even, I see him with different eyes than when we met. I know about his selfdoubting, worries and nerving habit of insisting that I should close the toilet lid when I'm done. But sometimes I'm still awestruck that this amazing, wonderful and perfect man, this SUPERman, is at my side, completely accepting me while I'm so full of imperfections. But Clark, he always knows how to bring me back to seeing us as equals. Sometimes it's just with one of the dorky waves of his or a lopsided grin while pushing up his glasses. He is perfect.

~END~


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