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calliopewayne · 2 years ago

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Imagineif

‘Recognized. Batman. 02.’

‘Recognized. Robin. B-01

Bruce stepped through the zeta-tube, fear burning in his veins for the first time in a long time. Robin followed closely behind giddy as a kid on Christmas morning.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Bruce glared at the numerous monitors in the entryway, each tuned in to a different viewpoint on Earth. He scanned the screens for any emergencies and growled when he saw nothing amiss. All things considered, he would rather be fighting an alien invasion. He grasped tightly to the bag of scones Alfred was kind enough to prepare.

It wasn’t too late to turn back now. No one had seen them yet. He could tell Superman the Joker escaped Arkham again. But Clark would be able to see right through his phony lie.

“Wow!” Dick ran towards one of the windows, his bright-yellow cape flapping behind him. Bruce grumbled a noncommittal response. “Super cool!” Dick beamed, eyes wide in wonder as he basked in the ethereal light of outer space. “I can get used to this view.”

“Nice of you to join us, Batman,” Superman appeared in the archway, crossing his arms over his larger-than-life chest.

Everything about Superman’s demeanor was guarded and careful. He crossed his arms in an attempt to make himself seem smaller and casual. He avoided meeting Batman’s gaze head-on, fearing he’d take it as a threat. Clark wasn’t under any delusions that Batman and Superman would ever be friends. He kept his voice neutral, void of any emotion.

“I swear you won’t regret it, sir,” Superman said, offering Batman a timid smile.

“Hrrmm,” Batman grunted. He already did regret it.

Bruce stiffened and not for the first time felt a stab of guilt in the presence of Superman. It was odd being addressed by Clark in such a formal, detached, way. Bruce Wayne knew Clark Kent. He loved game night more than Christmas. Last night Clark couldn’t shut up about Batman finally joining the Leaguers for game night. He was hoping they could move past their differences and be friends. He didn’t realize they were already friends.

Bruce should have told Clark, right there and then, but it never seemed like the right time. It was easier to allow Clark to believe Bruce and Batman were two separate people. If Bruce Wayne were here, Superman would have already invaded his personal space and hugged him, even though he wasn’t a huggable person. If Bruce were here Clark would have made a joke about Bruce’s lack of skills in the kitchen.

“Are those scones I smell?” Superman’s eyes widened, his voice growing an alcove higher. For a second he allowed Clark Kent to leak through the crevices.

Bruce should have known he couldn’t hide Alfred’s cooking for long. Not when he was in the presence of an alien that could smell brownies baking in North Dakota all the way from outer space. Wordlessly Batman proffered up the bag of scones from under his black cape.

“I didn’t know Batman could cook!” Superman said excitedly, taking the bag of scones from him. “I mean of course you can cook . . .” he bit through a chunk of strawberry scone, the sticky red jam dripping down his chin. “You’re Bate-man - can do anything!” Clark said through a mouthful of scone.

Bruce involuntarily winced. He didn’t know how long he could keep up this facade. It took all his willpower not to comment on Kansas’ poor eating habits.

“Funny,” Superman swallowed, licking his fingers. “My friend’s butler makes scones just like . . .”

“Oh my Rao,” Robin gaped up at Superman, grinning ear to ear. “You’re Superman!”

Superman sputtered in shock, spitting out bits and pieces of scone all over his suit, gaping at the kid at his side. He hurriedly set the half-eaten scone back in the bag and straightened up. Clark rubbed fruitlessly at the sticky jam on his chest to no avail. A real smile tickled Bruce’s features. He knew he made the right call bringing Robin along.

“That is what the papers call me,” Superman smiled in amusement. “But my friends call me Kal.”

“Can I be your friend?” Dick asked hopefully. “We can fight crime together and play dodgeball in space!”

When Bruce decided for Robin to tag along, he neglected to take into consideration the fact that Dick Grayson is the head of Superman’s fan club.

“I’d rather avoid crime fighting if I can,” Superman said evenly, but Bruce knew him well enough to pick up the judgmental lilt in his tone. “Say, Robin do you like air hockey?”

“Love air hockey!” Dick grinned.

“Wonder Woman would love a partner,” Superman said.

“No way! She’s here too!” And Dick was off, eagerly hunting down the other League members. Bruce scowled. Traitor.

“Nice kid,” Superman turned towards Batman. “How old is he?”

“He just turned ten.”

“Younger than I thought,” Superman said. “He’s a little boy!” Here we go again, Bruce ground his teeth together. It was a never-ending battle with Superman. “He should be enjoying his youth, not chasing after Supervillains every night!” Clark said passionately.

“That little boy has been through more trauma than you possibly could imagine,” Batman hissed. “Fighting crime helps him cope.”

“He is not you!”

“Robin is not your concern,” Batman said brusquely, not leaving room in his tone for arguing. But he knew Clark wouldn’t let this go easily. Bruce had been at the receiving end of Clark’s rants about Batman. Batman taking a kid on patrol was the tip of the iceberg.

“Adding more trauma isn’t the answer,” Superman explained. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about he doesn’t need to punch . . .”

“Bullshit!” Batman hissed. “You have two loving, very much alive parents who at this moment are probably up worrying about their naive son. You know nothing about true loss!”

“How do you know that?” Superman’s eyes turned crimson. The heat scorched Batman’s face and he took an involuntary step back, his breath hitching. He had seen Superman burn through state of the arts androids and level up entire buildings, but not once was that fiery gaze aimed toward him.

Bruce squared his shoulders and matched Superman’s glare. “I’m Batman.”

“Hera, help us,” Diana strolled into the entryway her features drawn taut. She had traded out her Greek armor for sensible jeans and a biker’s leather jacket with a spattering of stars on the front pocket.

“I can’t leave you two alone for a second without risking Armageddon,” her arms flew to her hips, looking every inch like a mother scolding her boys. “Kal-El,” she said, a hidden warning in her tone. “That is no way to greet a teammate.” Dutifully Superman’s eyes dimmed back to cerulean blue, but his expression remained turbulent. “Batman apologize for being a dickhead.” Clark smirked triumphantly.

Bruce was not going to dignify that with a response. “Let’s get this game night over with,” He shoved past Superman and Wonder Woman and into the game room.

Batman was immediately overwhelmed by the lack of monitors displayed. Superman insisted the game room would be a place of relaxation, not a ‘war room.’ A grave mistake. Lex Luthor or Bane could be heading their way and they won’t be the wiser. Fortunately, the game room was located on the main deck so if anything did go sideways - as it always did- Leaguers had easy access to zeta tubes in the next room.

An island wrapped around a decent-sized kitchen; it would make Mama K green with envy. Superman had stocked the fridge with all-you-can-eat junk food. Batman knew because Bruce had loaned Clark his membership card for WayneMart.

Beyond the kitchen was a den; a sofa comfortable enough to sleep in faced a platinum-sized screen. At the moment a rerun of Star Trek was playing on the tv. A red and black checkered blanket hung over the edge of the couch, covering a duffle bag on the floor. Bruce saw the edge of a notebook poking out of the bag. Bruce felt a pang of guilt. Clark had been living here ever since the bomb destroyed his apartment. It was no wonder he was so keen on game night. He must be going stir-crazy alone in Watchtower. Clark had asked to come to stay at the mansion, but Bruce had chickened out. Clark was such a Nosy Nancy, one look in the basement and his secret will be out.

Some of the league members were already sitting around the kitchen table. Unsurprisingly Flash sat closest to the food, scarfing down chips and salsa. Dinah sat next to Oliver, playing a game of footsie with him under the table. When Batman walked in the noise died. All pairs of eyes zeroed in on him. Flash froze mouth indelicately full of chips.

Bruce felt like he was five years old again, his parents abandoning him at school. Father had held him in his arms and explained, “You would be a lucky man if you can count your friends on one hand.”

Bruce’s throat closed up at the memory and shuddered to think things hadn’t changed that much. His only friends were Alfred and a naive alien. He supposed Dick was his friend too, but he viewed him more as the son he never dreamed he could have.

“Hi everybody!” Dick rocked back and forth on the ball of his feet. “I’m Robin!” he waved enthusiastically to the group. “We come in peace. I promise Mr. Gloom and Doom isn’t here to ruin your fun.” he flicked a thumb back at Batman. Batman narrowed his eyes at his young charge.

“We were just about to start imagineIf,” Barry explained. “Clah . . . Kal loves this game.”

His midstep didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce, but he chose to not say anything and sat in the empty seat next to Superman. Robin took the chair opposite him. Clark set up the board game, jotting down everybody’s names and explaining how the game worked. It seemed easy enough. Though the only problem was, Superman was the only Leaguer present he bothered to get to know. He supposed this was the point of game night, to ‘bond’ with his teammates.

“Youngest present goes first!” Robin declared, snatching the dice right from under Superman’s outstretched hand. Bruce suppressed a chuckle at Clark’s annoyed face. Superman leans back in the chair, refraining from arguing. Robin rolled the dice which landed on 6 and moved the gray game piece. Just his luck it landed on Batman.

Robin drew a blue card. “Imagine if Batman were a piece of advice, which would he be?” He giggled. “One. Trust no one. Two. Be honest at all times. Three. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Four. Believe in yourself. Five. Failure is not an option,” Robin laughed at that. “And six. Dress for success.”

“This one is too easy!” Diana slammed down her card facedown.

Bruce knew exactly which one he would choose. His greatest fear was failing. He couldn’t live with himself if Gotham’s Underworld created another orphan on his watch. He put his card down. The rest of the gang followed suit. Slowly everybody revealed their votes. Clark and Bruce were the only ones to put down #5. Everybody else put down #1.

“Seriously?” Batman caught each of his teammate’s eyes. “That’s how little you think of me?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The alien knows me better than you lot.”

“Well, to be fair,” Barry piped up. “You’re not exactly the trusting type.”

“I trust plenty of people,” Batman’s ears grew red.

“Name two,” Dinnah challenged. “And Robin doesn’t count, he’s your ward.”

“Superman and Commissioner Gordon,” Bruce responded without preamble. He also trusted Alfred with his life, but they didn’t need to know that. Not many heroes had a butler at their disposal. Well, Clark had Connie, but she was a robot.

Two pink dots appeared on Superman’s cheeks. “Wha-uh really?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Batman hissed. “And shut your mouth. You look like a codfish.”

“Gods forbid, you allow yourself to have a heart,” Diana quips.

The majority of voters moved their pieces on the board. This game was stupid. Clark and he were still stuck at the beginning. It would make more sense for them to match their card with the subject’s answer. Superman was after Robin. He rolled the dice, and go figure he landed on the Flash.

Clark let out a bark of laughter the instant he saw the card, his eyes tearing up. “Imagine if the Flash were a villain which would he be?”

“I fail to see what’s so funny about that.” Bruce cut out. Clark held up one finger to silence him.

“One. Darth Vader. Two. Gollum. Three. Hannibal Lecter. Four. Lord Voldemort. Five. Cersei Lannister. Six. Reverse-Flash.”

“What?” Flash screamed aghast. “No way!” he grabbed the card from Clark to examine it closer.

Superman snickered. “Somebody f***** up the timeline again.” It was the only explanation for Reverse Flash’s name being mixed in with that bunch.

The rest of the team followed suit with various bouts of snickers and giggles. Bruce stared petrified at the Boy Scout. He had never heard Clark utter more than a whispered, ‘damn it.’ Curse words sounded wholly unnatural and demonic coming from his lips. It made him want to go back to the cave and retrieve the jewelry.

“That sick maniac,” Flash shook his head. “Even has to rule over Game Night.”

“I think it’s hilarious.” Clark chucked. If Bruce didn’t know any better he would have thought Superman was drunk or on Joker venom. “Your villains crack me up. They’re funnier than the Joker.”

It was a direct dig at him, but he wouldn’t rise to the bait. The vote was unanimous. Everybody put down Reverse Flash to Flash’s horror. He put down Gollum in spite.

It was finally Batman’s turn. He groaned when he landed on Superman. At least this was someone he knew relatively well, but so did everybody else at the table. He hated losing at anything. This was his chance to up his game. He released a sigh of relief when he saw the card.

“Imagine if Superman was attacked by an armed mugger. What would he do?” He couldn’t help smiling a smidge. This would be too easy. “One. Scream and hope someone comes to his rescue.”

“Lois will definitely save you,” Barry said in a singsong voice. He puckered his lips and blew a red-faced Clark a kiss.

“And if she fails there’s always Maxima.”

“Grow up,” Dinah kicked Oliver under the table. “Go on Bats.”

“Two. Call the police and take down the mugger’s license plate (if available.)” Bruce shook his head. No mugger would be stupid enough to have their car parked nearby. “Three. Fight off the mugger with impressive Jujutsu moves.” Not exactly Clark’s style.

“Sounds more like you Batsy,” Barry leaned forward. “I’ve been meaning to ask . . . would you teach me some moves.”

“Trust me, you don’t want him as a trainer,” Robin answers for him. “He’s brutal.”

“I can only imagine,” Dinnah rolled her eyes. “Ollie is just as bad.”

“Am not!” he protests.

Bruce gritted his teeth. “Do you mind?” he snapped. “I’m trying to read here.”

“Take a chill pill B-Man,” Flash holds up his hands defensively. “It’s just a game. Part of game night is bonding with friends.”

“You’re not my friends.” He growled. “You are colleagues.”

“I don’t see why we can’t be both.” Superman folds his hands together over the table, ever the diplomat. He could teach Wonder Woman a thing or two about diplomacy. “Your ‘colleagues’ as you so eloquently refer to us, will be more likely to have your back should things go south if you took the time to build a connection with them.”

Human connection was his kryptonite. Batman and people did not mix. Besides, why would he need any of these Bozos when he had an alien in his back pocket? Or at least Bruce Wayne did.

“Nice speech alien,” Bruce’s tone was unforgiving. He knew how much Clark hated to be called an alien, but it was all part of the facade of Batman. Clark preferred the term ‘Traveler.’ “Did you read that on a Hallmark card?”

“Yeah, a Hallmark card shoved up your ass.”

“That’s enough boys!” Diana slammed her fist on the table. “If you two do not learn to be civil towards each other by the end of the night, I will personally send you both to the Phantom Zone and you will have no choice but to put your differences aside and work together.”

A plan was already forming in his mind. “We will just need an ounce of Kal El’s blood. Should be easy enough to procure in the Phantom Zone.”

Clark opened his mouth to retort. “You low life, spoiled, sanctimonious. . . I would never let you, ” Diana silenced Clark with a quelling look.

“Kal-El,” she warned. “Remember your upbringing. You know better than him. Do not rise to the bait.”

“Yes, mother.” Clark was such a pushover. Was he going to let her belittle him like that? Diana was not his mother.

“Now. Continue the game,” Diana commands brusquely. “Prospiatheiseh na mein eisai malakas.” she chided in fluent Greek. Bruce’s ears turned pink at the vulgarity.

“She just called you an asshole,” Clark translated for me.

“You’re not the only one that knows three hundred languages.”

“Really?” Superman’s eyes glimmer deviously at this newfound knowledge. “To neo sas kodiko onoma einai malakas.”

“Kai si eheis to myalo enas morou,” Batman responded in turn.

“Kalytera na eimai morou para paidofilos.”

“Afiste to paidi mou!” Bruce growled.

Diana shook her head bracing her hand against her palm. “Hera help me.” she looked up heavenward. “I’ve opened up the gates of Hell.”

“I want to play the game they’re playing,” Barry said.

“I don’t understand anything,” Robin said. “But I’m pretty sure they’re not saying anything good.”

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