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flslp87 · 6 years

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Summary: Doctor Emma Swan, a psychology professor at the University of Miami, is looking for her Superman. Doctor Killian Jones, a sociology professor, on sabbatical from Cambridge University, is looking for his Buttercup. What happens when well-meaning friends and family gift them memberships to an online dating site?

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Special thanks to @duathadun @hellomommanerd @idontdothatveryoften and @natascha-remi-ronin for their magical help!

Can be found on FF and AO3

Magical Match

Words ~15,200

February 2018

Emma watched the clock tick down the last few minutes which would signal the end of the first test of the semester for her Psych 101 class. Then eighty students would put down their pens and eighty pairs of eyes would meet hers, some resigned, some elated, most unsure. Once scores had been posted, her office would be inundated with students with questions about their grades, and by the next class her roster would have dropped by several. Such was the life of a professor at a university where admission wasn't easy and where their grades from high school were often among the highest in their class.

"Time," she called. "Please turn your papers over and pass them to your left." Emma moved down the aisle collecting the exams, and as the pile grew heavy, wondered whose idea it was to give an essay exam. Yours, numbnut, she scolded herself. "Your reading for the next class is on your syllabus," she told them in closing. "I'll see you Tuesday."

One or two students waved, a few others smiled and as they filed out she couldn't help but make a few guesses as to which ones would drop. But, she sighed, her job wasn't to worry about each individual student who dropped, it was to make sure that those who stayed got what they paid for...or what their parents paid for, anyway. "Cynical much?" she muttered, cramming the papers into her bag before shutting off the lights and hurrying out the door.

Emma took the stairs to her office on the fourth floor and with an hour left before she needed to leave to meet Mary Margaret, sat down to grade the exams. She made it through three of them before her attention wandered to her laptop and the possibility that a new message might have arrived from Clark, as she hadn't heard from him in a few days. Had he returned from his business trip? Or maybe she should be asking herself was when had she started to care?

December 2017

Since moving to Miami, Emma, as well as many of her colleagues, spent the holidays at the home of their boss, David Nolan. As the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, he worked hard to make sure that no one was alone over the holidays, and as Emma was best friends with his wife, Mary Margaret, she found she didn't mind. However, as the years went on and the number of single faculty decreased, it seemed that everyone had someone they wanted her to meet. The problem was, how could they know exactly what Emma needed when Emma didn't even know?

Mary Margaret said she needed her very own Prince Charming, which was how she described David. Emma wasn't so sure. She liked David...a lot...and he was a great boss, but to be married to someone like that, she just wasn't sure.

Belle told her she needed a bad boy, like the man she had married. But, once again, while she could definitely say there were some aspects of the bad boy that had attracted her in the past...she didn't think she could marry him.

Her past romances had taught her what she didn't want, but what did appeal to her? Someone who challenged her…yet cared about her opinion. Someone who was caring, witty and not afraid to say he was sorry. Someone who would sweep her off her feet when she needed him yet allowed her to walk alone. A man who, like a pirate in the night, would sneak up and steal her heart so effortlessly that she would never want to let him go. Who was he? Where was he? Was he someone she had yet to meet?

The group this year had been smaller and while it had been an enjoyable day, Emma was ready to go home and curl up with her six-month-old kitten, Ginger. She said her goodbyes and was just opening her car door when Mary Margaret came running down the walk. "Emma, hold on," she huffed, "you forgot your gift."

Emma took the green envelope and frowned a little. "You gave me my gift the other day. What's this?"

"Well," Mary Margaret began, but her body language and the way she seemed to struggle for the right words served to put Emma on guard. "David and I just want you to be as happy as we are so we kind of..."

Her hesitation had the hairs on the back of Emma's neck standing straight up and convinced her that she was most likely not going to like it. "What did you do?" she asked hesitantly.

Mary Margaret took a deep breath. "Just read the letter and remember...we love you." Then she quickly hugged her and with a little wave disappeared back inside.

With a shake of her head, Emma tossed the envelope onto the passenger seat and drove home. Once inside, her curiosity got the better of her and she ripped the envelope open and pulled out several sheets of paper. The letter was from a dating site she had heard about from some of her friends called Magical Matches, whose slogan was “Your True Love is only a keystroke away.” With a roll of her eyes at the matchmaking persistence of her friends, she tossed the letter on her desk deciding she would deal with it later.

For a week Emma moved the letter from one place on her desk to another, but never had the desire to read what it had to say. And since Mary Margaret and David had left on a cruise, she didn't have to explain herself either. Which left the door open for her to turn down several invitations for New Year's Eve and welcome in 2018 her way...movies, champagne and her favorite dessert.

The day had been perfect. She lounged in bed until Ginger insisted it was time to eat, and then after a run to her favorite bakery she had settled in with a cup of hot chocolate and an excessively large bearclaw. She made it through The Sound of Music before taking a small break to entertain Ginger and then dove back into The Promise.

A grilled cheese and a bottle of water carried her through An Officer and a Gentleman and The Lake House. And then she pulled out dessert and cut a piece of her hazelnut cheesecake with chocolate drizzle that she had picked up earlier and popped the cork on the champagne. With those in hand, Emma sank down onto the sofa and sang along with the songs that were in the movie Pretty Woman.

Halfway through the bottle of champagne, she decided to watch Ghost, and as the last drop of bubbly was poured into her glass, her tears started to fall. Why was she alone on New Year's Eve? If there was a man just for her, where was he?

As one year gave way to the next, Emma pressed play on the movie that seemed to have the man of her dreams. He was a dichotomy in that one side was shy, awkward and unsure while his alter ego was cocky, confident and caring. And while he had been portrayed many times by many actors, none quite pulled off both side as well as Christopher Reeve.

As she watched Clark Kent's shy puppy behavior around Lois Lane, Emma found herself with such a goofy smile on her face that she had to look away. Unfamiliar feelings were coming to the surface, but before she gave them too much thought, her attention was diverted when Ginger jumped up on her desk and started batting everything onto the floor. "Feeling left out?" she crooned, picking up the kitten and cleaning up the mess she'd made, which included a pile of papers.

Stacking the papers neatly proved to be more difficult than it should have been, as little paws were busy swatting at everything that moved. Emma tossed one of Ginger's toys, thinking she would run after it and had just straightened the pile when, with one jump, the kitten landed in the middle and everything scattered everywhere again. "Ginger!"

"Mew," Ginger responded, looking up at her with such an innocent expression that Emma couldn't help but pick her up and hug her.

"What am I going to do with you?" Emma murmured softly, her eyes landing on the letter from Magical Matches. Unsure what caused her to open it, Emma picked up the letter and sank down onto her desk chair to read.

Dear LostGirl,

Your Magical Match is CapnJolly. Whether you contact him or not is up to you, but if you choose to do so, please follow the instructions on the included page.

Best of Luck, Ruby Lucas President Magical Matches

Emma stared at the words on the page for so long that Ginger batted at her arm for attention. Should she or should she not?

Her gaze was drawn back to the television screen that was showing Superman turning back time to save Lois Lane, and she made her decision. She wanted to find that someone who would jump with her. Before she could change her mind, Emma read the directions for signing into the server and composed her email:

Dear CapnJolly,

My friends gave me this as a Christmas gift and while I am skeptical about it really working, I decided why not.

I'm looking for someone, not to follow, but to walk by my side. Someone who can see through walls that aren't impenetrable and leap the ones that are. Someone whose weakness is really his strength and who loves me for what I am and not for what he wants me to be.

I've not found him yet and really don't have high hopes that I ever will, but I promised my friends I would give it a try and that...that is important.

Your Magical Match,

LostGirl

A quick proof was all she allowed herself before she hit send because she knew that if she thought too long about it, she would end up deleting it. This way, it was done.

Early February 2018

He had written back the next day and somehow through the various computer conversations, she had grown to look forward to hearing from him. They had discussed everything from their favorite books to their favorite movies and had even spent several exchanges talking about pasta. He knew she wasn't a morning person, ate Pop-Tarts for breakfast and enjoyed walks on the beach.

But...he didn't know who her best friend was, that she was a professor at a university in Miami or her real name. There were some parts of herself she needed to keep close...for privacy, she tried to tell herself, but really for protection, for as long as the wall was up...she was safe. Or was she?

Her phone was in her hand before she realized it, her thumb hovered over the app to open it, but since there was no notification, Emma set the phone aside and finished grading the test she had started before getting lost in memories. Once she was done, she dropped her pen, locked her office, and had taken less than ten steps when she heard her name being called from behind and, knowing who it was, fought to keep from ducking into the women's room just ahead. But since it was her boss...and her best friend's husband, she plastered a smile on her face and slowly turned around. "David, what committee are you trying to fill now?" she asked him with resignation.

"No committees, Emma," David smiled, "I just want you to meet the man who will be taking over Belle's classes while she's out with the new baby."

"Oh?" Emma's brow went up as she sized up the man standing next to David. "I thought you were going to spread her classes around."

"Well," David put his hand on the man's shoulder, "I didn't know that the brother of one of my dearest friends would be available so...let me introduce Killian Jones."

"Emma Swan." She shook his hand while trying to remember where she had seen him, and while making small talk, surreptitiously studied him. Not quite as tall as David, dark hair he wore longish, but gelled back except for a few strands that fell over a high forehead, square jaw that was clean shaven, smallish ears tight to his head and blue eyes rimmed by dark lashes that were covered with a pair of oversized dark glasses.

He wore dark pants, white shirt with a muted tie, covered by a tweed jacket, and in his hand he was holding a fedora...just like Clark Kent come to life. "No, Killian...Killian Jones," he repeated, and she realized she must have voiced her thoughts aloud.

"I'm sorry," Emma hastened to add, "I've got to run. I have a lunch meeting." And before she could embarrass herself or David any further, walked away. Rude, perhaps...but for some reason being in the company of Killian Jones gave her a strange feeling.

She looked back as she started down the stairs and both were still standing there with their mouths hanging open. She shrugged, "It's your wife, David. You know how grumpy she gets if someone is late."

As she walked across campus to the Shalala Student Center, Emma thought about how David had smiled and waved her off as he was used to her behavior, but Killian Jones had looked almost relieved. "That's odd," she muttered, spotting Mary Margaret across the room seated next to a window.

"What's wrong?" her friend asked before Emma was even situated in the chair.

Emma frowned. "David just introduced me to the person taking Belle's classes and I know him...but from where, I'm not sure...yet." Then it hit her and after an excited inhalation, she continued, "Remember that conference I went to last fall and I---"

"Complained about one of the speakers for weeks?" Mary Margaret finished her sentence.

"Yes," Emma shook her head, "it's him. His ideas were really..." Simplistic, archaic...annoying, she thought. "But I don't want to talk about him. Let me fill you in on Clark."

~~~CS~~~

When Emma left, Killian slowly let go of the breath he was holding, as he hadn't been interested in a confrontation with a colleague so soon after joining the team.

"Sorry about that," David interrupted his thoughts to make excuses for the Swan girl. "Emma can be prickly, but she's a fine instructor and has co-published with another professor in the area of psychophysiology.”

Killian didn't say anything, just nodded his head in a 'that's alright' motion, as he much preferred observing to confrontation anyway. Besides, it seemed that Emma apparently had a very comfortable working relationship with his soon to be boss and he didn't want to get off on the wrong foot. And that was on a professional front...on the personal front, he would hate to create any issues, as Liam would kill him.

He followed David as he was shown around the college, but once they left the Flipse Building behind and started walking across the campus, Killian could finally relax. The warm temperatures and soft breeze were a welcome change from the snowy cold of Wisconsin and the damp cold of London. So much so, in fact, that he found himself second-guessing his wool tweed jacket and fedora.

"Here we are," David indicated the modern building in front of him, "our 46-million-dollar student center."

"That's a lot of money." Killian looked on in amazement at the chrome and glass structure surrounded by lush, tropical landscape.

"Donors with deep pockets," David intoned, leading him around the building. "These gliders okay?" he asked, pointing to a patio dotted with wooden seating areas.

Killian looked out over the sparkling lake surrounded by green grass and nodded, "It's fine, mate."

David led them to a wooden table, flanked by benches and covered with a wooden umbrella, and slid onto one side. Killian followed suit, sliding onto the one across and when it surprised him by moving, he unceremoniously fell, almost slipping off the seat, knocking his glasses askew.

"You okay?" David asked quietly.

Killian blushed and straightened his glasses while hastily looking around to see if anyone had noticed. "Fine, fine. I just...ugh...slipped." He ran his finger from one side to the other under his collar, thinking that he was feeling a tad warm.

"You're not too hot, are you?" David asked just as the wind whipped around them.

The breeze served to cool him down a little, but even with the pomade in his hair, it was strong enough to blow an unruly lock over his forehead. "I might have to rethink my jackets while I'm down here."

David grinned as their orders were set in front of them. "Ditch the jacket. We're a pretty loose group. One of our faculty comes to work in board shorts and flip flops." He shrugged, "As long as you're decent and do the job."

Killian couldn't quite see coming to work in shorts but thought perhaps a lighter wardrobe might be in order.

With the gentle movement of the seats and the steady hum of the fountain, he found that his attention kept drifting to an email he needed to write. He wanted to share this new opportunity but worried it would be crossing some unspoken line that she had arbitrarily set up between them. "I could get used to this," he found himself uttering.

David laughed. "Well...we do have a faculty member retiring in May, so..." he left it hanging in the air.

Could he live in a place of perpetual sunshine, across the pond from his brother and family and friends? "I'll keep that in mind," he finally managed, but decided it was definitely something to think about.

While they ate, Killian was content to allow David to carry the conversation. He parceled out information on the school, places he thought Killian should visit, restaurants he frequented and tidbits about his wife, Mary Margaret before segueing into escapades he and Liam had been involved in when they had met at University.

Killian had just popped a salty chip into his mouth when he heard, "David, I didn't expect you to be here," and a dark-headed woman leaned over and kissed his dining companion, answering his question about her identity.

His eyes were drawn to those of the woman standing next to the dean's wife and the iciness of her green stare answered his question as to whether or not her antagonism had been his imagination. Her eyes skittered away first, moving to the vicinity of his chest and feeling his face flame, his gaze moved out to the lake.

Killian listened to David speak to his wife, finding that he envied the easiness with which they spoke. When he was introduced, his habits of old kicked in and after a brief hello, he sat back and answered only when spoken to, feeling as if the words were lodged in his head, but unable to be spoken. Only when he was communicating with...

"David, Doctor Jones," Emma interrupted his thought and tipped her head in farewell as she moved to follow her friend.

"Whoa," David's brows rose, "what did you do to upset Emma?"

Killian didn't really feel the need to explain the whole misunderstanding over the paper he presented and just shook his head. "Professional differences, I suppose. You know how psychologists' philosophies often differ from those of sociologists," he finally settled on.

David studied him for an extra second. "That I do. I need to head back now, is there anything else I can help with?"

"Point me toward the Metrorail?"

~~~CS~~~

Emma was expecting Mary Margaret to say something about her treatment of Jones, and so when they had walked around the lake and her friend hadn't said anything, she couldn't stand it any longer. "I know I was rude, but he..."

"Gets under your skin. I know." Mary Margaret sent her a quick grin. "But he's cute."

A snort burst forth before Emma could contain it. "Kind of like a puppy dog. Did you see the chip crumbs on his tie?"

"He just needs a good woman to help bring him out of his shell." Her friend laughed.

"Maybe," Emma agreed, "but that's not me. After all, I've got..."

"Clark, I know," Mary Margaret said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

Once back in her office Emma continued with her grading, not stopping until she was finished. She had just completed adding all the grades to the computer gradebook when her phone buzzed. A glance at the notification sent a little thrill through her system. "Clark," she giggled excitedly as she swiped the app to read the message.

~~~CS~~~

Killian had rented an apartment overlooking Biscayne Bay, steps away from Bayside Marketplace and an easy commute by train to the University. He had chosen the place not only for the scenery, but because it offered a large balcony, which he had been drawn to the minute he had walked in the door. Large glass windows lined the back wall revealing the blue water of the Bay for as far as the eye could see. And as a sailor, even if it was just for recreational purposes, the blue, blue sea calmed him and soothed his soul.

Since he had been in residence, he had discovered a pattern in his behavior when he returned to the apartment. Upon entering, with a flick of his wrist his hat would land on the table, his jacket and tie would be flung over the sofa, and as he unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt with one hand the other grabbed his laptop as he gravitated to the balcony. Symbiotic...or at least it seemed that way to him, for it needed him to enjoy its beauty as much he needed its ability to soothe him.

"And today's no different." Killian stretched his legs in front of him and watched the water below, noting the coming and going of the tour boats. He had thought about taking one of the cruises but felt more of a need to be the one in control, which was unlike him. Different from any time in his life he could remember, making him question what had caused the change. Or better yet...who?

January 2018

The new year was only a few hours old, and while Killian had enjoyed spending the evening with his niece, Piper, he couldn't help but wonder when he would find his own Buttercup. That wasn't something he often thought about because, generally, he was happy with his life. He taught classes, did research, wrote and spent time with his family. But there had been something different about this year's New Year's Eve. He had watched The Princess Bride with his niece and found himself feeling...lonely...bereft even...as if something...or someone...was missing.

It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting down at the piano, his fingers running over the keys, almost subconsciously picking out the notes to the theme song from the movie he had been watching. But that didn’t seem to help the restless feeling he had and eventually pushed up from the piano, eventually settling in a chair losing himself in thought.

"Killian?" He looked up as Elsa came into the room. "Any trouble tonight?"

He sent her a small smile. "Not at all. Why would you say that?"

"No reason," she shrugged a shoulder, "you just appeared...I don't know...lonely, I guess."

He surprised himself by answering quietly, "I was just wondering about my Buttercup."

"Oh?" Liam's voice joined the conversation, "Something to share, Little Brother?"

Killian shook his head, almost wishing he hadn't said anything. "Just a comment after watching your daughter's favorite movie, that's all."

Killian watched Liam and Elsa exchange a look that said a lot, but what exactly he wasn't privy to, and then Liam disappeared in the direction of his study only to reappear with a red envelope in his hand. "Take a chance, Killian." He handed the envelope over before holding his hand out to Elsa.

Elsa leaned over, kissing Killian on the cheek and then wrapped her arm around Liam as he came to his feet, "Love is worth it. Night, Killian." They moved down the hall toward their room and Killian was left alone with his thoughts.

It had taken him a few days before his curiosity led him to open the envelope, and by the time he had, the letter from his magical match had been waiting for over a day.

Dear CapnJolly,

My friends gave me this as a Christmas gift and while I am skeptical about it really working, I decided why not.

I've not found him yet and really don't have high hopes that I ever will, but I promised my friends I would give it a try and that...that is important.

Your Magical Match,

LostGirl

"She's looking for a bloody Superman," Killian mumbled, pushing away from his desk to pace in front of it. "How's a normal bloke expected to live up to that?" He stopped pacing long enough to stare in the mirror at his image. "You're certainly no Superman," he told the man looking back at him. "But, maybe you could be his alter-ego, Clark Kent. With that in mind, he sat back down to try to put together a response that didn't make him sound like an arse.

Dear LostGirl,

I, too, am skeptical of this process working but was reminded recently that skepticism is often the first step to a great discovery. And since one can only truly fail if they don't try, I would like to see if I'm up to the task of breaking down a few of your walls, much like the man of steel.

I am looking for someone who is loyal and willing to fight for what she wants. Someone who isn't interested in trying to change me, but who accepts me for the man I am. Someone who loves me enough that even after years together, it is always as exciting as the first time. Someone who challenges my mind and allows me to challenge hers.

Are you willing to roll down the mountain with me?

Your Magical Match,

CapnJolly

~~~CS~~~

February 2018

Killian admitted that he had sent that first email mainly out of curiosity, but it hadn't taken many exchanges before one day he had signed his message as Superman's alter-ego, Clark. It hadn't been planned, but had just happened, and she had understood...and with her signature, she become his Buttercup. And now, four weeks after their initial emails...she mattered, and that was cause for concern. The anonymity made it simple, as he didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing because each and every word he wrote had been thought out. The awkwardness that he felt around women that caused him to inevitably do or say something foolish wasn't a problem because the more he corresponded with his Buttercup, the easier it became. The ease hadn't transferred to other women though, as today with Emma Swan, he had been tongue-tied and felt like a gauche teen. Not a promising start to the next few months.

The revving of a boat motor served to pull his attention back to the task at hand, that of composing a new message for his magical match. He had some things he wanted to share with her, but while he had been open about his likes and dislikes, he was still holding his identity, his family and his location close. Why, he couldn't say, but something told him that his Buttercup wasn't quite ready for taking that next step. He still needed to scale a wall or two.

Opening his computer, he started typing, but for every word that he wrote, he deleted two. It took him the better part of an hour to get the right tone, to get the right words, but once he had written everything out, he hit send. No second thoughts. Once sent, his heart fluttering in his chest and his nerves skittering along his skin, he couldn't stay inside any longer. A quick change into running shorts and Killian headed to the beach to run.

~~~CS~~~

The message from Clark wasn't long, but many of their messages weren't. They had fallen into the habit of asking each other a simple question, or of relaying information. It was a way to share pieces of themselves without going too far out on the limb. Or, in her role of Buttercup, a way to take a few steps down the hill, or if necessary a few steps back up the hill. Safe...but still satisfying...and exciting. This time was different though, as he had shared more about his location and even asked for her help.

Dear Buttercup,

I'm sorry I've not been in touch for a few days, but I've recently sailed into a new harbor. For the next few months, I'll be sailing where the sun shines and the water is warm. The only problem is that I find myself at odds with one of my shipmates and I am vexed as to how to repair the rift. Would you have any words of wisdom for this weary sailor?

Yours,

Clark

She read the message through once...and then read it through once more, but this time very slowly. She kept thinking that taken at face value, his words meant one thing, but that maybe there was a hidden message too. However, after several minutes of coming up with no answer, she decided to answer him once she had returned home. Ginger had been alone too long and if she were bored, who knew what she would get into.

Emma lived in a small neighborhood in the town of Coconut Grove, located not far from the University. It was a small community located within the city of Miami but was easily accessed via the Metrorail and close to the shops at Bayside Marketplace and the night life and beaches of South Beach. Most days she took the train but knowing that she would be staying late grading papers she had driven. Now as she dealt with the rush hour traffic along the US-1, she had second and third thoughts, finally driving into her driveway an hour after leaving her office.

With a slight hesitancy as to the mess she might be walking into, Emma unlocked and slowly pushed open the door. She took a step into the foyer and when the floor was clear let out the breath that she was holding. Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her briefcase onto a side table and turned around to hang up her jacket when, out of the corner of her eye, an orange flash ran around a corner.

"Ginger?" The kitten was gone but trailing across the floor was a strand of cream colored yarn that matched the afghan that Mary Margaret had given her for Christmas. "No, no, no," she repeated rapidly running to the T.V. room to find it spread across the floor. "Ginger," she groaned picking it up, finding where the mischievous kitten had found a loose strand and had taken off. Holding it tightly in one hand to keep the blanket from further unraveling, she followed the trail that led down the hall and around a corner into her bedroom where the kitten had gotten sidetracked by her hair ribbons, now spread around the room.

Emma quickly picked up the ribbons, tossed them on the dresser and went looking for the kitten. She wasn't in the kitchen but she had been, as her box of toys had been upended and its contents were spread across the floor. Ginger wasn't in the study either, however there was evidence of her as she had knocked her pens off the desk, which left the bathrooms. Emma could hear the kitten before ever entering the room and, as expected, found her destroying a roll of toilet paper.

"Ginger!" Emma picked up the kitten and tucked her under one arm and then picked up the mess. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked her friend carrying her into the kitchen and setting her on the floor while she got out the kitten food. Once Ginger had her nose in the kitten food, Emma set her sights on her own meal, finally settling on a slice of cold pizza and dropping down in front of her computer.

Clark's question about advice to help sort out a disagreement between co-workers reminded her of her feelings regarding Killian Jones. Having sat in on a portion of a presentation he had given, she had left early after hearing him say that growing up in the foster system was what caused social deviance. What would she need to change her mind? Was there anything? Maybe there was, she thought as she sat down to type out her message.

~~~CS~~~

Killian spent the next several days thinking about what Buttercup had suggested while he went about his professorial duties. Preparing lectures and PowerPoint presentations to match the students’ needs ended up taking extra time, but once that was complete, he went back and reread the last message.

Dear Clark,

Rifts are often caused by a misunderstanding. Perhaps if you can figure out where the misunderstanding occurred, you can clear that up.

Good luck,

Your Buttercup

He knew exactly what had caused the rift between him and Emma Swan as it had to do with a paper he had presented on social deviance. All he had to do was figure out why she'd had such a visceral response to his presentation...and correct it. Simple, right?

"Killian?" He turned to greet David, who happened to be standing next to a man wearing board shorts and flip-flops.

"David, how are things?"

Pleasantries exchanged, David introduced his companion, "I'd like you to meet August Booth. August, Killian is covering for Belle."

After a few conversational exchanges, David excused himself and Killian and August began walking back to their offices. Along the way, August shared a few more pieces of information about his specialty as well as filling him in on a few idiosyncrasies of the other faculty members. "Had any run-ins with anyone yet?"

"Not really, no." Killian tugged on his right ear, and straightened his glasses, habits he was aware of resorting to when he felt uncomfortable.

"That look is telling me there's more in what you're not saying. Come on, spill," August encouraged.

Killian didn't respond right away but waited until they were in his office. He leaned back against his desk and looked over the man standing in front of him, deciding perhaps he could fit another piece to the puzzle. "Nothing, really...just...Emma Swan took offense with a paper I presented last fall, but I'm unsure as to why." He picked up a copy of the paper, handing it to August.

"Creating Social Deviants in the Foster System; A Case Study," August read aloud. "This was the paper?"

"Aye," Killian answered. "What about it?"

"It's not really my story to tell," August prefaced before continuing, "but Emma was raised in the foster system and so this--"

"--is a touchy subject." Killian finished his sentence. "I get it now. Thanks, mate."

"Anytime." August handed back the pape. "I’ve got to run, but if you ever want to go wakeboarding or windsurfing, let me know."

Once he was gone, Killian dropped down onto his desk chair and tried to figure out his next step. He had inadvertently upset a colleague by making her think that he was maligning an entire subset of individuals who were near and dear to her heart. He wanted to make it right, for her vexation with him left him feeling unsettled, for more than what could be taken at face value. He wanted Dr. Swan to read his entire paper. Perhaps then the confusion could be cleared up, their working relationship would be amicable, and the unsettled feeling he had would disappear. Question was, how to get it to her. Mailbox...leave it on her desk...slide it under her door? All possibilities, except the likelihood of her tossing it in the garbage without reading were 70/30. What then could he do?

He was on his way to place it in her mailbox when he was presented with an unexpected opportunity. Killian reached to open the door to the department office and without looking barreled inside running headfirst into Emma Swan, who was carrying a box full of papers. "What the hell!" he heard as the box was dropped, landing on the toe of his wingtips.

"Ouch!" Killian yelped, also dropping the article and exam he'd been carrying before realizing that Emma was just staring at the papers that were slowly sliding out of the box at his feet. Old habits kicked in. "Uh, sorry Doctor Swan." He bent over and began haphazardly shoving the papers back inside the box. "I didn't look where I was going. I was," he looked around locating his exam and held it aloft, "going to make copies of this test and I..." The last piece was shoved inside and, standing, he pushed the box toward Emma, unaware that he had taken a step forward.

"Uh," Emma let out a gasp as the box hit her in the chest and only the fact that Killian was still holding on to it kept it from once again landing on the floor.

"Sorry about that." He gave her a sheepish grin, relaxing his stance a bit, thinking she looked a bit shell-shocked for lack of a better word. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts and took the box out of his hands. "I'm fine," she answered his question solicitously, before her voice took on its usual clipped tone. "Thank you." She brushed past him, leaving him standing there alone.

Killian righted his glasses and tried to remember why he was standing in the doorway to the department office. As if in a trance he looked down at the papers he was holding and snapped his fingers, "Ahh, yes. Copies." He left his order for his exam to be copied but it wasn't until he was back in his office that he remembered the article and wondered where it had ended up.

~~~CS~~~

Her lecture over, Emma handed a pile of the Developmental Psychology article to each of the rows and once everyone had a copy, moved back to the podium. "Read these over for next class, please, and we'll discuss them then," she instructed before turning her attention to shutting down her PowerPoint.

"Doctor Swan," Emma's attention was pulled to one of her students, Henry Mills, a gangly, dark-headed boy, who laid a small stack of papers on the podium. "I think I accidentally picked up a copy of the wrong article."

Emma handed him the correct one before looking down at the one he had originally been given and, seeing the title, felt her brows raise in question. How had a copy of the Jones' article ended up with hers?

But then the scene from earlier in the day replayed in her mind of when he had run into her, knocking the box from her hands. She had stood there like an idiot while he had shoved all the papers back into the box, handing them to her. Just as awkward as always she wanted to say but then...he had asked if she was alright and there was something in his voice that was different. The way his British accent curled around the syllables and the huskiness of his tone sent...dare she say...a shiver up her spine? She had to have been mistaken, she ultimately decided, before shutting off her computer and packing up.

Once back in her office, Emma set the article in front of her, trying to decide what she should do. Throw it in the trash and pretend like she never saw it, put it in his faculty mailbox, or take it to his office and give it to him? With a shake of her head, she suddenly remembered how angry she had been when she had heard the beginning of his presentation last fall, and without thinking, she picked it up to toss in the garbage. But before she could let it go, her curiosity got the better of her and, pulling it close, she read.

Thirty minutes later, she finished the article and buried her head in her hands and mumbled, "Damn! How could I have been so wrong?"

Before she could change her mind, Emma grabbed her jacket, her phone and the article and left the building, making her way across campus to the chemistry building. "Mary Margaret!" She burst into her friend's office without knocking, "You'll never believe what I..." She stopped when she noticed that Mary Margaret wasn't alone, for sitting in front of her desk was the very man she had come to talk about. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company. I'll come back."

"No, don't go," Jones stopped her from leaving, "I need to leave anyway."

Without any further fanfare, he covered his dark hair with his fedora, and with a tip of his chin, left the room. Unsure what to say, Emma sank down onto the seat he had recently vacated noting it was still warm and a musky scent still lingered in the air. "Why was he here?" she asked without preamble.

Mary Margaret snickered, "Hello to you, too."

"Sorry," Emma apologized. "How are you? And why was he here?"

Her friend waved her hand toward her desk where a pile of keys lay. "Would you believe my car keys?"

Emma raised a brow, "Really?"

"Really. Now tell me what has you so rattled."

Unsure where to start, Emma started with the early morning collision and ended with her discovery of how she had been wrong, jumping to some conclusions that she shouldn't have. "He wasn't generalizing for all children raised in the system," Emma shared excitedly, "I think he was saying that the attachment theory would suggest that with this particular case, the person had an inability to regulate in infancy due to abandonment and a broken parental bond, leading to social deviance as a child which carried through to adulthood." She grimaced, "I can appreciate this and probably," she sighed, "shouldn't have been so angry."

When Mary Margaret didn't say anything, Emma leaned on the desk. "What do I do?"

"Apologize," her friend said softly.

Emma took a deep breath, "I was afraid you were going to say that."

On the way back to the Flipse Building Emma kept thinking about the best way to apologize but nothing felt right. She wondered if Clark had been able to sort things out between himself and his co-worker and if so, perhaps he would have some words of wisdom.

~~~CS~~~

Since leaving Mary Margaret's office, Killian had been trying to figure out what it was that had brought Emma Swan rushing into the office unannounced. Had she found his article? Had she read the article? And if she had, what did she think?

But why did he care? He was only going to be in town for a couple of months, unless he interviewed for and was offered the permanent position. So why did it matter what she thought of him professionally? Still unsure of the answer, Killian exchanged his tweed and wingtips for running shorts and shoes and hit the beach. After five miles he still couldn't come up with an answer and pushed for another couple before cooling down and making his way back to the apartment.

He stripped and stepped under the shower spray, thinking over the answer that he had settled on while running and that was that Emma Swan was an enigma. He heard stories of what a good instructor she was, how the students and faculty all enjoyed working with her, and yet the Emma Swan he saw was prickly...distant. She challenged him intellectually, whereas Buttercup stimulated him with her curiosity, her wit and her insight. If he could somehow combine the two, he would have found his perfect woman.

Stepping from the shower, Killian dried and wrapped a towel around his waist just as a notification from Buttercup appeared. He quickly slipped into sleep pants and opened the message. It read:

Dear Clark,

Were you able to mend the rift between yourself and your co-worker? I find that now I am in need of some advice from you. I have recently realized that I jumped to an inaccurate assumption and have treated someone poorly because of it. I am unsure how to repair the divide between us. Any ideas?

Buttercup

Killian couldn't help but smile when he read her message because whether she had meant to or not, she had created a tiny crack in her wall. Without much thought behind his answer, he sent a response.

Buttercup,

If you are wrong, apologize.

Clark

He was surprised when he didn't have to wait long before she answered back.

Clark,

I was afraid you would say that. Saying I'm sorry is difficult. No magic pill?

Buttercup

He chuckled at her response and answered.

Dear Buttercup,

No magic pill. Sorry.

Clark

But she didn't let him have the last word.

Clark,

No key to his stomach? No special Hallmark card or movie?

Buttercup

He got it, he really did, for saying you are wrong was difficult, but he had faith in her. Which was interesting since they had never met. Wanting to learn more about her, he just started sending silly questions, as did she, until a glance at the clock told him they had been 'talking' for four hours. His eyes barely able to stay open, Killian sent her one last question and when she didn't answer immediately, he allowed his eyes to close and drifted off to sleep.

~~~CS~~~

It had been over a week since Emma fell asleep while 'talking' to Clark, which meant it had been a week since she realized she was wrong about Killian and needed to apologize. However, saying she was sorry was not one of her strong suits and while she had tried...kind of...she was still working up to it.

She decided that starting with a peace offering and then apologizing might make things a little easier and after some subtle questioning had stopped by Starbucks to procure his favorite coffee. However, once she arrived at the University and located him, she had been upstaged by none other than Tina Bell, the college's barracuda. Tina had a reputation for flitting through men as quickly as a fairy flits through a flower field and by all appearances she had set her sights on Professor Jones.

After taking a few days to regroup and come up with another idea, Emma planned to steal a piece of his mail from the faculty mailboxes and drop it by his office claiming it had accidentally gotten mixed up with hers. Frustratingly, it seemed that someone else had the same idea because every time she checked the boxes, his was always empty. It wasn't until she happened to walk by his office one afternoon to overhear someone say, "Killian, here's your mail. It must have been left in my box by mistake," that she realized the culprit was Neal. She didn't think Killian played for the same team as Neal, but she guessed she could be wrong.

As February morphed into March and Emma still hadn't said she was sorry, she started thinking that if she didn't kick her own ass, her friends might very well do it for her. Mary Margaret sent reminder texts, Clark had started asking in his messages and even her kitten had gotten in on the action. Ginger had discovered the copy of the article that Killian wrote and scattered it all over the house, almost as if leaving reminders for her master.

Making up her mind that this was the day, Emma found out which room he was teaching in and planned to stop by on her way to her own class. Sadly, as had been her luck, once he was finished teaching, the podium was swarmed by a gaggle of girls and Emma was left out, yet again.

Tired of being one step behind, she finished teaching her class, packed up for the day and barely made it to the Metrorail for her trip home. But once she arrived home, she had too much nervous energy to sit still, finally changing into running gear and hitting the streets. Allowing her feet to lead the way, she quickly realized that they were leading her directly to the beach and its hard-packed sand.

Emma wasn't sure how far she ran, nor was she sure how long she ran, but she found a set of footprints in the sand and followed them blindly. In her head she created an image of the person she was following, thinking they too might be trying to outrun something...or someone. Her butterflies inside settling down, she slowed to a walk, allowing the gentle breezes to dry the sweat and calm her senses. The mysterious steps faded as they rounded an outcrop of rocks and as she scooted around, the owner of the prints came into view.

He had one leg resting on the shelf of a rock, his torso bent forward as he stretched his hamstrings. She couldn't see his face, but he had a five-o'clock shadow, and his dark head was moving to music only he could hear. She had just decided to turn the other way when he dropped his leg and looked her direction. Emma's eyes traveled from his feet covered in a bright pair of Nike's, up bare legs, baggy shorts, a bare, slightly furred chest into the blue eyes of the man she had been simultaneously looking for yet running from for the past month.

"Killian!" His first name burst forth before she could stop it. "Doctor Jones," she quickly amended, trying to keep her eyes glued to his instead of oogling his barely clad body.

Killian took a step closer, his eyes widening with surprise as he removed an earbud. "Em...uh...Doctor Swan," he hesitated before dropping his gaze to the sand.

Realizing that he might be feeling self-conscious, Emma cleared her throat, "Emma, please," she managed softly.

He lifted his eyes and gave her a shy, but very endearing smile, and repeated, "Emma," quietly, almost as if he were trying it to see how it felt on his tongue. "And you can call me Killian." His response was just as soft as hers had been.

Emma closed her eyes, but the vision of his chest, jaw covered with burnished whiskers and blue, blue eyes without glasses were burned in her brain, refusing to leave. Do it, she told herself, opening her eyes once again to find his gaze locked on her. "I'm glad I ran into you." His arched brow asked a question without his lips ever uttering a sound. "No, really," she rolled her eyes, "I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I've behaved like an ass."

He didn't say anything for the longest time, and afraid that perhaps she had waited too long, Emma almost turned to leave, but something kept her feet planted. "Apology accepted. Care to walk?"

They walked around the rocks, heading back up the beach and while not the comfort of an old friend like she felt when messaging Clark, their talk was, at least friendly. She found that when she asked him questions about his professional life, he appeared more comfortable and seemed to stutter less, which gave her a new appreciation for him. She hadn't really wanted to like him, but darn it, she did, and that was almost disconcerting.

When they eventually parted ways and Emma arrived home, she couldn't get their encounter out of her mind, and for the first time she found herself wishing that Clark was close. But she hadn't even told him where she lived...nor had she shared her real name. The dilemma of what to do carried her into the shower.

~~~CS~~~

The week after seeing Emma on the beach was a break for the University, and while he thought about flying home to see Liam, Elsa and Piper, in the end, he decided against it. He divided his days between research for the book he was hoping to write and allowing August to teach him how to windsurf. Each evening he ran along the beach and while Emma Swan didn't cross his path, it didn't mean she didn't cross his mind. He found himself thinking of her periodically, especially when he was in the middle of his research. That she might be an interesting co-author had crossed his mind a time or two, so much so that he had almost mentioned it to Buttercup and asked her opinion. But aware that he hadn't shared his real name and profession, kept him quiet...for the time being anyway.

The problem was that the closer he felt to her, the more difficult it became to keep quiet...but something held him back. It was as if he were waiting on some sign and once he had gotten that sign, then...and only then would he divulge information that would lead to her knowing his real name. What that sign was, he couldn't say...but when it happened, he would know.

The last day of the break, a Sunday, David and Mary Margaret were hosting a brunch for the faculty of the College of Arts & Sciences, and if any faculty members were in town, they were expected to be there. Killian arrived late and snuck in, hoping not to call attention to himself as he circled the room keeping his eyes open for...

"Looking for me?" A whispered voice asked in his right ear as he felt an arm circling his waist.

Could that be? he wondered turning to his right, only to be surprised by Neal's whiskered jaw leaning close to his shoulder. "Bloody hell, Cassidy!" Killian bellowed, jumping back quickly. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I thought," Neal started before being pushed aside by the college snake.

"Get your hands off him!" Tina Bell ordered Neal, shoving him out of the way.

Killian noticed people staring, which was the exact opposite of what he had been looking for. Slowly, he took a step back, trying to keep out of the reach of the groping hands. "Wai...wai…uh…just a minute here. There...there seems to be a...a...a big misunderstanding." His collar suddenly started feeling tighter and he swiped his finger around inside it in a desperate attempt to get it to loosen, all the while looking across the room for someone to rescue him. "Hold on, here," he tried again, taking another step backward. "There...there seems to be, uh...a misunderstanding." He took one more step and hit a table, causing the plant sitting on it to wobble.

Simultaneously, a hand reached out, stopping it from tumbling to the floor and another hand settled at his waist. He knew before he turned that his savior was Emma Swan, but where had she come from?"

"There you are," she hesitated just long enough to get the attention of both of his suitors, "Killian. I've been looking for you."

Emma positioned herself close against his side, her nearness causing his heart to speed up and sweat beads to appear on his upper lip. Unsure what he was supposed to say, Killian looked down into her green eyes shining with laughter. He swallowed his unease and nodded his head, "Aye, that's uh...that's right."

He swallowed again when Emma linked her arm with his, and with an, "Excuse us," pulled him away from the situation.

Once they were well out of Neal and Tina's hearing, Killian thanked Emma, and as they were walking by the buffet table offered to buy her a drink. She rolled her eyes at his remark. "Sure, but I can get it. Want something?"

He sent her a little smile and shrugged nonchalantly. "What...ever, uh...you're having is fine. I'll just be over…" he waved in the direction of several chairs, and when she nodded he moved away and sat down.

Killian watched her move around the table with ease, curious as to what she was making to drink, when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone sit down next to him. His breathing stopped until he heard, David's low laugh, "Emma making you one of her creations?"

He sent his companion a quick grin and shrugged, "I'm not sure. Should I be worried?"

"Oh, just wait," David intoned. "Our Emma has a sweet tooth."

"Watch it, David," Emma laughed, "I heard that." She handed Killian a cup piled high with whipped cream that was covered with brown sprinkles. "Drink up. I've got to go hear more about the sunsets in Key West." With a little wave, she faded into the crowd.

Killian looked at the whipped topping melting in his cup and lifted it to see if a whiff of the brown specks would give him some indication of what he was drinking. "Cinnamon?" For some reason that seemed familiar but he didn't know why. Many people drank hot chocolate, but he hadn't heard of many drinking it with whipped cream and cinnamon, except...and then it came to him. "Buttercup," he whispered.

"Buttercup?" David repeated, "No, it's cinnamon."

Killian shook his head to clear his thoughts because what was rolling around inside his head made very little sense. He had just swallowed his second drink of the sugary concoction when he realized what David had said, and asked curiously, "Emma always makes the chocolate with whipping cream and cinnamon?"

David laughed, "Always. Why?"

"No, no reason." He couldn't get beyond the fact that he had already been wishing that Emma and Buttercup were the same person, as each stimulated him in different ways and now...now if every time he was involved in a conversation with Buttercup, he saw Emma in his mind...how should he handle it? Needing to move to a safer topic, Killian asked David about his break.

"Oh, I took Mary Margaret to Key West." He went on to sing the praises of the little town that sat on the very tip of the Florida Keys. "Have you had a chance to drive down since you've been here?"

Killian barely had time to say no before David continued with the conversation, claiming the Key West sunsets were not to be beat and that if the opportunity arose, it was a place he recommended.

It wasn't long before Killian noticed people starting to leave, and as soon as he was able he too made his excuses. All the way home, he kept replaying conversations that he'd had with Buttercup over the past two months and combining those with what he knew about Emma. Was it even possible that they were one and the same? Or was it something that he just desired? And if his magical match wasn't ready to let him knock down all those walls, then what could he do without losing her...or possibly both of them? After all, he was only Clark Kent.

Later that night a notification arrived that he had a new message from Buttercup. Killian opened the app and read,

Dear Clark,

This may sound odd, but just out of curiosity, Clark Kent has several nervous habits that Superman doesn't share. Do you have any nervous habits you're willing to share with your magical match?

Yours,

Buttercup

~~~CS~~~

Emma wasn't sure what possessed her to ask the question, but once she hit send, she couldn't wait for the answer. When Clark didn't respond right away, she couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to the party and Killian's nervous habits. Besides turning really red, he was prone to rub his hand on his neck. Sometimes along the back and at other times along the front, and his speech patterns changed. They became more hesitant, even slightly dysfluent.

The dysfluency itself was interesting to Emma as it seemed to change depending on the environment. She had watched him arrive and he appeared fine, however once Neal and Tina had surrounded him, making him uncomfortable, he had really stuttered and then the stuttering had lessened as they moved away. But when she had seen him at the beach, once the initial awkwardness was over, his speaking pattern was different. Then his speech had been fluent...smoother, even if his sentences were not as long and eloquent as she had expected...or as long and eloquent as Clark's were, which was a curious comparison to make. But the cadence of his speech and the way his tongue wrapped around those British vowels did something to her that she hadn't expected. In fact, there were times when she found herself hearing Killian's voice in her head as she read some of the messages from Clark. How messed up was that? There would come a time when a decision would have to be made, she could feel it. The question was...how much time did she have?

Knowing she had to teach the next day, Emma tried to go to sleep early but her mind wouldn't stop enough to allow for a deep sleep. It took hours of tossing and turning before she finally fell into such a shallow sleep that she was aware of every little creak in the house and every move made by Ginger, thanks to the bell on her collar. Her dreams had Killian and Clark morphing into the same person, each saying words she would expect from the other. She reached a point where she wasn't sure which man she was running to...or running from.

When the alarm went off, she wanted nothing more than to bury her head under the blankets, but with an early class spurring her on, she forced her feet to move. Knowing she was going to need an extra shot of caffeine, Emma quickly showered, dressed and was out the door and in line at Starbucks before even realizing she hadn't even touched her phone. When she saw the notification, signaling a message from Clark, a little jolt traveled through her system, but wanting to savor the feeling she dealt with the non-important stuff first. Her thumb hovered over the app when she heard the barista call, "Swan," and the moment was lost.

A congested US-1 slowed her down and so it wasn't until several hours later that Emma dropped down into her office chair and opened the app to see what awaited her.

Dear Buttercup,

Just like Clark Kent, I find myself unsure at times and when that occurs, besides turning red, I tend to tug on my right ear. I've been trying to stop, but perhaps it’s a Superman transformation I've yet to conquer.

Yours,

Clark

"He tugs on his ear," Emma murmured. "Why does that sound so familiar?" Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten anything earlier, but grabbing something from the vending machines didn't sound good, so...

E: Have time to meet me at the student center?

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long for an answer,

MM: Sounds good. Usual spot in 20?

E: Perfect. See you then.

There were several "busy" activities that she could have started, but Emma found that she didn't have the drive to begin any of them. Leaving her office behind, she escaped the confines of the building and started the walk across campus. The weather was still perfect, and with the sun shining down and the fragrant flowers around, Emma found herself relaxing and reflecting over the past few months. Much had changed since last November when she had told Mary Margaret that she was not interested in dating.

November 2017 Thanksgiving

Emma dried the last glass, set it in the cabinet and shut the door. "Done," she said with a smile. She hung up the towel she had been using and followed Mary Margaret into the family room.

They settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, both lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. "Thanks for helping clean the kitchen," her friend told her quietly. "When Robert is ready to go home, he means right then."

Emma laughed at the memory of the argument between the men and how in the end David had given in and driven them home. "That was sweet of David to drive them home."

"An only child," Mary Margaret laughed and the changed the subject. "Ready to let me in on why you arrived alone?"

Emma's head dropped onto the back of the sofa. "I was wondering when you would ask, but," she lifted her head, "it's not a big deal, really. When Mary Margaret's only response was a lift of her brow, Emma laughed and shook her head. "There was just something missing between us and..." She bit her lip, unsure how much more to say.

"Oh Emma," the brunette sighed, "he wanted more, didn't he?"

Emma nodded her head slowly. "I'm not sure why I have such a hard time picking men," she finished disgustedly, and gave her friend a tiny smile. "Know any men as special as your husband?"

She watched several expressions cross her friend's face and thought to herself, ‘I'm going to wish I wouldn't have said anything,’ before her friend even opened her mouth. "Well, it's interesting that you ask," Mary Margaret started, "it just so happens..."

"Stop." Emma held up her hand. "I was just kidding. You know I don't do 'fix-ups.'"

"But Emma, what if he's your true love?"

"Ha!" burst out before she could stop it. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"

March 2018

And if I had taken her up on the offer to introduce me to someone, would I have a third man in my life? Or would I have none? "Feast or famine," she mumbled as she entered the noisy environment of the student center and sat down at their usual table.

While she waited, Emma's thoughts once again drifted back over conversations that she'd had with Clark and how easy it was to share most things with him. Most things that is...except her name, what she did for a living and...where she lived.

"What's wrong?" Mary Margaret asked before she had even settled in a chair.

Emma frowned at her. "How do you know anything is wrong?"

"Because you're chewing on your bottom lip. Now spill."

Emma spent the next hour trying to explain the confusion she was feeling inside and how her feelings for Clark and Killian were morphing together. She found it freeing, but even talking about it still didn't give her clarification as to what she should do. "You've been quiet," she commented as she ran out of things to say.

"Have you thought about trying to meet Clark?" Mary Margaret asked her quietly.

"Yes," Emma nodded, "but...but I like what we have, even if it's not completely open. If we meet I might find out--"

"---that you might be wrong about him," Mary Margaret interrupted. Emma sighed, but didn't say anything, only nodded her head. "Emma," her friend reached out with a reassuring touch on her hand, "don't give up. Love is worth it."

All the way back to the Flipse Building, Emma thought about what Mary Margaret had said and wondered if she was brave enough to take a chance. Was her true love at the bottom of the hill, just like Buttercup's Westley? It was a question that certainly deserved a lot of thought but since she had a class of freshmen to lecture for the next ninety minutes, she would have to set it aside to ponder later.

As she stood in front of her class, lecturing about habits, Emma's mind kept wandering to her situation, but using every ounce of skill she had learned over the past few years, she made it through her PowerPoint without having to repeat herself too many times. She had just started a video to accompany her lecture when she looked up, meeting the blue eyes of Killian Jones.

The first thing she noticed was that he didn't have his glasses on and his gaze was so intense that she had to hold onto the table to keep from falling. He looked different, but beyond the absence of his eyewear, she couldn't put her finger on why she thought that. Almost like when Clark Kent becomes Superman flitted through her mind before she pushed it aside as a preposterous idea.

Emma couldn't look away, her gaze mesmerized by his and then...he smiled. A smile so endearing that if she hadn't been holding onto the table, her legs would have given out. Without conscious thought, Emma found herself smiling back, and then it happened, and as if in slow motion the room stood still.

Killian's face turned red and he reached up and...tugged on his ear.

Emma blinked rapidly several times, thinking surely, she didn't just see that. But he did it again.

He reached up, and once again tugged on his ear.

Emma's mouth dropped open, and just as she started to walk over to him, the video came to its conclusion and with a little wave Killian disappeared. She didn't know where the words came from, but somehow she closed out the class and made it back to her office repeating, "I am so screwed," over and over again.

Almost in a trance, Emma packed up and drove home, arriving to discover that Ginger had been busy, but she hadn't destroyed anything important. The decision time that she had been fretting about for a while had arrived. The question of what to do ran around inside her head, almost filling up too much space to allow her to function. She had just about decided to put it off for another day when her phone buzzed with a new notification from Clark. With much curiosity and a little trepidation, Emma opened the app.

Tell me dear Buttercup, are buttercups your favorite posies?

Yours,

Clark

~~~CS~~~

Killian leaned against the open patio doors, listening to the waves roll in several floors below. Usually the rhythmic pulse served to soothe him, but tonight his thoughts were in too much disarray and he'd resorted to a generous dollop of rum. As the amber drink burned a path from his mouth to his stomach, he set the glass aside and leaned on the railing staring out at the bay, hoping for some clarity.

With each ebb and flow of the water, the shore changed, reminding him of his own metamorphosis over the last few months. It hadn't been something that he had noticed as it was taking place, for then, he had been attempting to make some sense of what he was feeling. His emotions were wide and varied and they included those for his Buttercup, as well as many for Emma Swan and suddenly, the two women had merged into one...at least in his mind. But after speaking with Liam, there had been an epiphany, of sorts, and he had realized that the man he looked at in the mirror every morning had indeed changed.

He had arrived home from the party and, with his thoughts mired in confusion, he had needed someone to help him sort through them and reached out to his family. Piper had answered the phone and after listening to her stories about school, she had passed him on to Elsa. It hadn't taken long before Elsa had asked if she could help, and he thought about asking her for her opinion, but then Liam's voice came over the phone and he hadn't been able to stop the flow of words.

It had felt good to be able to articulate what was in his mind and what was in his heart. And once the words were said, then he had been forced to examine the meaning behind them. Liam had asked a few questions, but as the questions became fewer and his answers shorter, Killian had started to wonder what was going through Liam's head. The end of the conversation was really what stood out in his mind.

"Have you ever fought for a woman, Killian?" Liam had asked him quietly.

"No." He had never wanted to fight for anyone.

Liam continued, "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. So, Little Brother, if you want this woman, you need to fight for her."

Once he had hung up the phone, he found himself thinking about Clark Kent's transformation to Superman. It all started when he removed his glasses. He stood taller, more confident, his voice was lower pitched...and what he wanted, he went after.

Killian found himself in the bathroom, staring at the man in the mirror, and just like Superman, he pulled the tortoiseshell glasses from his face. Different, yet the same, he thought, wanting to do more. With a tug of the knot, his tie ended up on the floor and the top few buttons of his shirt came undone and his stance changed...looser...cockier. His hair...he mussed, letting it fall over his forehead. And the new Killian Jones stared back at him. This man, not the same man that looked back at him each day, but a man on a mission. A man willing to fight for the woman he wanted.

And that man made his first appearance at the University earlier today. That man had breezed through his classes and, needing to see Emma, had stopped by the room where she was lecturing. Exchanging looks with her had been intense, and he'd needed to hold on to the door facing to keep from pushing his newfound confidence farther...and then...she smiled. His heart raced, but the video's ending had sent him running home.

Once home, after a run on the beach, he set out to see how close he could get to his Buttercup and sent her a message. But now, hours later and she hadn't responded. Had he gotten too close? And if so, was she running?

Unsure what his next step should be, Killian readied for bed and, keeping his phone close, lay down, folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts fell back on the encounter with Emma and how he felt when she smiled at him, his heart had...

His phone sounding with the theme music to Princess Bride interrupted his thoughts before they could delve any further into his feelings. Killian reached for the phone, quickly opening the app. Buttercup's message was short and either she was being a bit cheeky...or she was trying to put some distance between them. "We'll see about that," he muttered as he reread her message.

Dear Clark,

Buttercups are not my favorite posey.

Yours,

Buttercup

Killian's next message was short...but a little more personal.

Dear Buttercup,

How about Blue Bonnets? Are they your favorites? Blue like your Westley's eyes.

Yours,

Clark

Even though it was getting late, he didn't have to wait long for her answer.

Dear Clark,

I do like blue, but Blue Bonnets aren't my favorite.

Yours,

Buttercup

Killian's smile was decidedly wicked as he answered her.

You like blue? Blue like the sky or blue like the sea?

He couldn't put the phone down, he was so anxious to hear what she had to say.

Why, blue like the sea, of course. Oh, a bonus for you. My favorite flowers are Tiger Lilies.

Killian had his answer and assumed she was turning in for the night. He shut the phone off and as fatigue pulled him down into sleep, he continued to formulate his plan as to how far he could push her before her walls came tumbling down and he was able to win Buttercup’s heart.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Killian put his plan into action. His messages to his Magical Match included questions that became increasingly more personal, pushing her down that hill a little at a time. Initially, she met his new questioning technique with hesitation and challenged his with questions of her own. But then, it was as if a door had opened and she was walking through as she met each of his questions with ones of her own.

By telling her he had grown up in London, he learned she was born in Boston.

By telling her his parents had been killed when he was a teenager, he had learned she had been raised in the foster system. And that news sent his heart racing, for Emma Swan had also been raised in the foster system.

By telling her his magical match gift had been bestowed on him by his brother, his wife and their daughter, he had learned she had received it from married friends, who were colleagues. Could those have been David and Mary Margaret?

Mid-April was upon them and Killian wanted...no...needed to meet Buttercup, but he had one more question for her. It was quick.

Dear Buttercup,

If you could take a trip to see the sunset, where would the trip lead you?

Yours,

Clark

Surprisingly, he didn't have to wait long as her response popped up right away.

Dear Clark,

I hear the sunsets in Key West, Florida are like no other.

Yours,

Buttercup

When Killian read her answer, he couldn't believe the amount of relief he was feeling and he was being hit with it from several directions. Creating the perfect letter took some time but once it was sent, he was confident he had made the right decision.

The following week, he realized he needed a little advice and stopped by David's office. David's secretary smiled. "Doctor Jones, how can I help you?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Lucas." He sent her what he hoped was an endearing smile. "Is David in?"

Once inside David's inner sanctum, Killian got right to the point, "David, I thought I'd check out those sunsets in Key West next weekend. Would you happen to have a hotel recommendation? And would you mind taking me to the airport?

~~~CS~~~

As soon as Killian had left the office, David couldn't stop smiling. He picked up his phone to share the news. "Mrs. Lucas," he said to his secretary, "please tell Ruby thanks again for help with that matter."

"I'll do that, Doctor Nolan," she answered. "Is there anything else before I leave for the day?"

"Nothing, thanks." As soon as she was gone, David snuck outside to where a copse would hide him, should anyone come around. He needed to call Liam and fill him in on the news. As he waited for the phone to ring, he saw Killian leaving the building, and stepped back a little more into the shadows.

"David, good to hear from you," Liam's voice came over the line. "How are things?"

~~~CS~~~

Dear Buttercup,

Are you ready to meet me at the bottom of the hill? If so, I'll be waiting at the Southernmost Point in Key West on April 21 at 7:00p.m. If all goes well, the sunset will signify a new beginning. I'll leave my cape at home and be holding four Tiger Lilies, one for every month we've been talking.

~Clark

Emma read through the message one more time and the excitement that she had felt the first time was just as real...the tenth...twentieth, but who's counting time. It had taken her a lot of runs on the beach and talks with her friend, but Emma had made the decision to continue down the hill. She hadn't rolled down, like they had in the movie, but taken sure and steady steps, allowing him to get closer to her than anyone had in...forever. And after his last message, she had decided to drive to Key West...and meet him.

Ginger mewed and followed her to the door, and seeing her little forlorn, furry face almost stopped her...but, "You'll be in good hands, my friend." She picked up the kitten and rubbed her face against the soft fur. "Mary Margaret is going to take care of you. You like her, right?"

The kitten didn't look convinced but followed her mistress from room to room as Emma made sure she had everything and then called her friend.

"Hello?"

"I'm getting ready to leave. You won't forget to take care of Ginger, right?"

"Go, Emma," Mary Margaret assured her, "Ginger and I will be fine. Good luck."

"Thanks...for everything." While Emma didn't know for sure, she had a feeling she was thanking her friend for a lot more than just watching her pet.

On a good day, the drive along the scenic US-1 was almost four hours from her home in Coconut Grove, but add in a wreck and a little road construction and she didn't pull into the hotel until five hours later. Once she checked into her room, she had too much nervous energy to just sit around and decided to take the opportunity to visit the Hemingway House. Once there she was free to wander about the eccentric writer's home, admiring not only the residence, but the many cats that called the house their home.

After leaving the Hemingway House, Emma still had a few hours to waste and spent time walking in and out of the shops on Duval Street. Her stomach was so tied up in knots that she couldn't even think about food and she was too nervous to people watch, and so an hour early, she started in the direction of the concrete buoy that proudly proclaimed it to be the Southernmost Point in Key West, Florida.

When she arrived within eyesight of the buoy, Emma stopped and leaned against a store, shielding herself from others, but allowing her to see the comings and goings of the tourists. Her eyes were constantly moving over the crowd, searching for the man that she hoped was both her magical match, i.e., Clark Kent, as well as her Superman. Taking a chance on even the possibility of love was not something that Emma Swan had ever done until she had become his Buttercup. Now...she was here...and...she was ready.

She saw him coming from the opposite side of the street, his walk much more Superman these days than Clark Kent. He looked good as Superman, she thought. Contacts instead of glasses, jeans instead of dress pants, a vest and a shirt unbuttoned a few buttons instead of a tie, all topped by black leather instead of a tweed jacket. And not a fedora in sight, she noticed as he turned to look in a store window. She assumed he was window shopping until he straightened his jacket and ran his hand through his hair, leaving it artfully mussed. He turned back toward the corner and his lopsided grin caused her heart to do a little flip. That they had come so far was a miracle, making her think they were technically a miracle match instead of a magical one.

Just before he reached the corner, his steps hesitated and he stopped, his confidence flagging. His shoulders sagged, and his body relaxed and just like that, Clark was back. He dropped his head studying the bright orange flowers he was holding, four beautiful Tiger Lilies as he had promised and then...with a swipe of his finger across one delicate petal, his shoulders drew back and his head lifted. Superman had once again returned and Emma's heart melted a little more.

He looked toward the concrete buoy and Emma watched him take a breath and his lopsided smile once again returned. She saw him scan the crowds, looking for her, she knew, before settling off to one side. His Adam's apple bobbed and seeing that even when he was Superman he was nervous, Emma stepped away from the wall and started her walk to where he was waiting.

~~~CS~~~

Killian saw her coming and she was so beautiful all the words that he had planned to say disappeared from his brain. His eyes trailed up her slim legs encased in tight jeans, to her soft sweater covered by the ever-present leather jacket. Her hair blowing around her face and the sun shining on her gave her a glow, and those combined with her smile woke his heart and made it sing.

She stopped in front of him, giving him a smile that he hadn't been aware he was longing for. "I hoped it was you." Her voice was husky and a little breathless and the way she was biting her lip was endearing to see.

"Really?" He felt his smile grow, "I hoped it was you, too." He took a half step closer. "When did you suspect?"

Emma tilted her face up to the sun, as if working to bring back a memory that was hiding. "Clark and Killian had been merging in my head for several weeks, but then when you were standing in the doorway of my class--"

"And tugged on my ear?" he finished.

She nodded. "Yes. And then you disappeared." Her voice faded as she studied him intently.

His face felt stiff and too warm, as if he had been smiling too much or was embarrassed...or both. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly. "I wanted to stay but it felt like it was..." and then he stopped because he wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

Emma took another step closer. "Too much?" she asked hesitantly.

This time it was his turn to nod. "Something like that."

"How long do you plan to stay?" Emma's shining green eyes continued to stare into his as if she were cataloging his features and digging into the deepest recesses of his mind.

She had asked him a question, but he had been so lost in her green-eyed gaze that it took him a while to process what she had said. "In Key West...or in Florida?

Emma rolled her eyes and lightly giggled, relieving some of the nervous tension he still was holding. "Florida, silly."

"Well," Killian handed her one of the bright Tiger Lilies, "that depends on a few things." He handed her another, each word carefully chosen.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, her breath blowing across the petals causing them to undulate slightly. His eyes rested on her lips before he forcibly brought them back to hers. She pulled the flowers down to clasp them tightly against her chest as she stared up at him, almost as if something held her captivated. Her pink tongue peeked out to slowly circle her lips and for the first time, Killian felt that there was a very real chance he would get to taste that mouth. Something he had longed to do but never really thought possible. "What things?"

Her words broke through his hazy thoughts. "A job," he handed her the third flower, "for one. After all, my position is only until the end of the semester."

Emma frowned up and him and took a step back. "Wait. I thought you were applying for Cora Mills' position."

Killian felt his brow raise in question, thinking that the fact that she was aware he had been offered the opportunity to apply for the position was an interesting piece of information. "I've been told about the position but haven't decided if I should apply or not." He took a step forward closing the distance that she had just added.

"What...what will help you determine whether or not to apply?" she asked him breathlessly.

A tiny smile played along her lips, their twitching pulling his eyes to them time and again. "I think you know." He handed her the last flower, his eyes open for her to read whatever was in them that she wanted to see.

~~~CS~~~

His blue eyes had been hypnotizing her since she had stopped in front of him and the more she stared, the more rubbery her legs became. Hearing him talk and listening to the melodic tone to his voice, the more he pulled her in...bringing her closer to him...making her want to step into him, letting him wrap her in his arms. But patience and allowing things to develop between them naturally had worked so far, which was why she was working so hard to refrain from staring at his lips.

Hearing him remind her of the temporariness of his position and then telling her he hadn't applied for the other one sent a shock of fear zipping down Emma's spine. That wasn't like her, yet as he uttered the words, "I think you know," she had to look down to make sure that her legs weren't slowly melting into the very ground beneath her feet. Surely, he couldn't mean her, could he?

But then she looked...really looked in his eyes and what she saw was so raw...so heart-wrenchingly beautiful, she couldn't keep from stepping closer. The toes of her boots touched his and her hands rested against the soft leather of his jacket. "Killian?" There was so much she wanted to say but how to verbalize exactly what she was feeling was a problem, because as she had said earlier to him...it just felt so big.

He took another step and cupped her elbows, pulling her closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. "Yes, love?"

Emma wasn't sure if the word was an endearment or just something that he used when speaking to others, but it sent awareness along her skin. "Where's home?"

He leaned his head closer and whispered, "I have a flat in Cambridge, which is the University I am on sabbatical from, and my family lives outside of London, why?"

She shook her head, turning questioning eyes to his. "You would be willing to give up your...family for me?"

"Aye." His breath wafted across her mouth, making her want to lean forward...just an inch closer, to finally seal their lips. "Buttercup," he tugged her into his body, locking his arms around her, "can I be your Westley? Can I be your happy ending?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before Emma took the leap and locked her mouth to his. He tasted like heaven and his arms...those felt like home. Their lips parted briefly, just long enough for her to mutter, "Welcome home, Killian."

The setting sun touched the ocean, painting the world around them with a golden glow. Killian swung Emma around dipping her in his arms. “Is this the Happy Ending you envisioned for Buttercup, Swan?”

She smiled, “It’s not a happy ending, Killian. It’s a Happy Beginning.” He swung her back into his arms and captured her lips once again as the sun sank into the ocean and the night closed around them.

~fin

Thanks for reading

#csficformal #cs au ff #captain swan au ff #cs ff #cs crew #CSOneShots

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jaybeartodd · 7 years

Text

Colleagues Pt. 15/17 -- Jason Todd x fem. reader

Warnings: some cursing, mostly just a fluff monster before I ruin everyone’s lives with the finale (jk well maybe not sure yet)

Tags: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @tsctd @multi-fandom-dumpster @wordsmusicandchocolate @cattwomannn @itstoastytodd @nicunt @browneyedangel @amnahs9695 @mad-hatter-has-nothing-on-me @prancingdestiel

Permanent Tags: @vividmjs @alohabucky

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

A/N: As per usual, I want to thank everyone for the amazing support. You are amazing and I hope everyone is doing great and I love you bunches <3<3 Enjoy!

“What do you mean it isn’t as impressive? We are literally underneath the police station. For months they were up there searching for me and I hid underneath them. Not to toot my own horn but that is pretty damn cool.” Jay declares waving his arm. His other arm is tucked under your head creating a barrier between you and the harsh concrete floor. You curl in closer to him feeling exhaustion press at your eyelids.

“I am just saying, the Batcave has more shock factor,” you mumble poking at his ego. “Also, it is at least attached to a house he can sleep in.”

“Y/N, I have an apartment. I am not a complete animal.” he laughs and it reverberates through his chest. A smile stretches its way across your face in response to a sound you never wanted to lose again.

“Could have fooled me,” you mutter into his chest. Your mind starts to drift along with your eyes as you slowly fall...You jerk yourself awake out of habit and his arm tightens around you.

“Wow, Y/N? You okay there?” Jason asks concerned. You sit up and blink your eyes.

“Yeah, I, um, just almost fell asleep. I really should be getting back. It’s late,” you say and start to gather your things.

“Stay with me tonight,” Jason proposes. You bite your lip pondering the situation. He sits up on his elbows and strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Come on, Dopey. You look like Mr. Sandman dragged you through hell and back. And I know you sleep on that dingy-ass sofa. I have a real bed and I am so great at fighting nightmares. Expert, really.” he flashes his pearly whites and raises his eyebrows.

Your fatigued body screams at the opportunity and your brain has given up its fight a while back.

“Yeah, sure, that actually sounds really nice,” you say with a sigh. His eyes grow wide and he grabs your chin gently.

“Damn, you must be really tired. Not a single argument?” he kisses your cheek and stands up fist pumping the air.

“Jay, don’t make me change my mind...”

“Exactly! I didn’t have to! That is what is so astounding.” he says giving you a sly grin as he shrugs his shirt on.

You shrug Jason’s leather jacket closer to your body as you both walk hand-in-hand in the cool Gotham night air. Your sling makes it harder to wear the right sleeve so he zipped it up front to keep heat from escaping.

“I’m so used to seeing the city at night through a helmet. It’s...” he looks up thoughtfully and a pang hits your heart at the relaxed expression on his face.

“Peaceful.” You say quietly. He turns towards you with sparkling eyes. You yawn and lean your head against his bulky arm.

“Almost there, Doll,” he says softly. His lips curl into a grin at what you said. Peaceful. He hadn’t felt that in so long. But that is just it. Having your red cheeks pressed against his arm meant you were here. With him. Safely. And he felt a deep reassuring sense of peace.

You finally arrive and you are genuinely impressed by his apartment. You toss your stuff on the couch and rub your bloodshot eyes.

“Bed is in there, feel free to borrow my clothes,” you nod sleepily and make your way towards his bedroom. When you don’t notice him behind you, you turn around.

“Are you not coming?” you ask and he nods.

“Just give me a sec,” he says. You wave your hand not awake enough for further inquiry. You saunter in and after foraging for a clean shirt you exchange your own clothes.

Your brain can’t process anything except for how amazingly soft his bed is and before you know it you drift off. Only to be struck with a nightmare moments later. Jason enters the room and crawls in next to you.

“Shh, Doll. It’s okay. It’s only a bad dream. They are only scary if you let them be,” he whispers in your ear and pulls you close. You rest your head against his chest as your breathing slows back down and let yourself fall back to sleep.

The sweet smell of cooking wafts through the room and wakes you up. You blink your eyes open and feel around the unusual softness of your couch. Once you realize where you are, you stare wide-eyed at the previously occupied area of the bed next to you and the events of the night before come flooding in.

“Seriously Y/N? All it took was seeing him one more time?” you groan standing up. You rub the bandage on your arm wincing slightly at the pain. It does admittedly feel slightly better than yesterday. You grab the sling and wrap it around your neck.

All-too-aware of the conversation needed this morning, you take your sweet loving time padding over to the door. You peek outside to see Jason pouring batter into a pan explaining the enticing smell that you woke you to. He looks very concentrated with his spatula as he watches the pancakes sizzle.

Taking a deep breath you open up the door and step out. He looks over his shoulder at the noise. His eyes take you in greedily at the sight of your sleepy eyes, tousled hair and your body being swallowed up by his shirt.

“Morning Dopey. Pancakes?” he gives a boyish smile while holding up a plate stacked high with pancakes.

You look at him amusedly. “Sure but don’t be disappointed when I can’t scarf down all five pounds of them.“

He flips the last one onto the plate and sets them in front of you as you take a seat on a barstool.

“I have seen you eat, remember? Plus I can pick up your slack,” he says handing you a plate and fork. You dish off two from the top and take a bite. Surprisingly good.

“You should really put an apron on. Cooking etiquette and all that,” you say with a smile while pointing with your fork at his sweatpants and lack of shirt.

“Alright, Gordon Ramsay. Would you sit there and just eat,” he says rolling his eyes. He stands there with his fingers clutching the counter staring at you.

“Are you going to come sit?” you ask curiously. He sighs and reaches down.

“Actually I was thinking since I have your attention,” he tosses folders at you, “You could explain this.”

You stop chewing and set down your fork when you recognize the evidence you have been collecting.

“How did-” you search for your bookbag and see it lying at his feet, “Did you go through my stuff?!”

“You are avoiding the question, Y/N.”

“And you are ignoring mine.” You both stand there defiantly until you sigh and finally look away.

“You didn’t honestly think I would just lay back and do nothing.”

“Of course not, hence why I went through your stuff. But Y/N,” he pushes the papers towards you, “This is a little extreme even for you. What were you planning on doing with all of this evidence? Maybe tell Bruce his employees are working behind his back?”

You scoff at the irony of this.

“Says the boy who goes out of his way to disobey his orders.” Jay picks up the spatula and points it at himself.

“Yes, because I am the impulsive one who makes questionable decisions. You,” he points the spatula at you, “are the responsible one.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself but your phone starts vibrating in your bookbag holding off the conversation for the moment. You pick it up and the caller I.D. reads Nick’s name.

“Nick, hey,” you say into it and are immediately bombarded with questions.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Where are you? Why did you call? Is everything okay?”

“Nick, chill. I am fine. And I called because I was stranded but I was, uh, helped,” you glance at Jason to see him on a barstool shoveling pancakes into his mouth,” by someone so I am good. I am sorry I didn’t come home last night but I will be home in a bit.”

“Okay, I’m here so I will see you then.” You take another look at Jason and he looks up with a mouthful of food and curious eyes.

“Hey, Nick. Make sure you are free for dinner tonight.” Jay’s eyes narrow catching on quickly.

“Uh, okay, sure,” he says and you say your goodbyes before hanging up.

“Y/N, what is churning in that pretty head of yours?” Jason asks suspiciously.

“We are all going to have dinner tonight, together,” you say and shush him before he can protest, “You guys have to get along.”

You walk over to him and straddle his lap. He grabs ahold of your hips while you wrap your arms around his neck. His lips are set in a hard line of skepticism.

“You are the most important men in my life. I need you to get along. And he hasn’t done anything else for Mask, ” you press your forehead to his, “So, please do this for me.” You bat your eyes for extra measure and he blows out a puff of air in resignation.

“Fine, I will be civil,” you smile and peck him on the lips.

“Now we can enjoy our pancakes,” you chirp and start to slide off his lap secretly cheering on the fact that you distracted him from the previous conversation.

“Oh no, I don’t care how adorable you are,” his hands tighten on your waist, “We are talking about this. What was the plan, Nancy Drew?”

You brush a stray lock of hair from his face and look into the probing blue eyes.

“Fine, I was planning on exposing them in an article, Lois Lane style,” his face scrunches up at this, “Oh ok and breaking every bone in their bodies is a much more reasonable alternative.“

He shakes his head, “No, I am sure this will be effective. I personally believe that breaking bones is always the answer but that isn’t my problem with this plan.” His eyes grow dark and he gently holds both sides of your face.

“I am worried about you. There will have to be an investigation before anything legal will happen and that will be a window of opportunity to retaliate against you. And I already failed to protect you once,” you grab his arm and stroke it tenderly.

“Jay,” you begin softly, “I know you are worried but I can publish it anonymously which will give me time. And honestly, there isn’t much stopping him from attacking me again now.” Jason flinches at this and his hands slide back down to your thighs.

“This is the only way to put an end to all of it,” you whisper and tilt his chin up to look at you. “And you didn’t fail anyone. Don’t you dare blame yourself Jason Todd.” Your voice becomes stern and the left side of his mouth turns up in amusement.

“Or what?” he teases your leg and you kiss him hard while sliding off his lap.

“Easy there tiger. We have some pancakes to eat.” you say and plop down in the seat next to him.

“Yes, I suppose we do,” he grumbles and you laugh at his pouty face.

“I don’t know, Y/N. The guy obviously doesn’t like me. He freaking attacked me,” Nick whines and you rub your face in exhaustion.

“Nick, it was in a moment of anger. And he feels bad about it,” not exactly true, “Please. You both mean a lot to me and I need you to get along. Can you just do this one thing for me. You owe me.”

He turns sorrowful eyes towards you but your gaze remains unrelenting.

“Fine. Where are we going?” he mutters.

“We are going to a restaurant with a bar so there will be plenty of opportunities to drink.” you say patting him on the shoulder.

“Hey, did Clarissa call you?” he asks quietly and you stop on your way towards the shower.

“No, not yet Nickie,” you say gently and walk back towards him. His face falls and he rests his head in his hand. You take a seat next to him and pull him in for a hug.

“I really screwed up Y/N. Now I’ll never see Trey again.” he cries into your shoulder and you rub his back comfortingly.

“I’m sure she will come around. We will see him again.” you whisper reassuringly. But doubt lingers behind your words and you fight back tears of your own.

Noise from the enormous Saturday night crowd overwhelms you as you step into the restaurant with a reluctant Nick following closely behind. A crowd is laughing at a bar while couples dance in the open space next to them. Eventually your eyes wander over to the collection of tables and you see a familiar leather clad man tapping his fingers anxiously on the table. You start towards him and he looks up matching your smile with his own. He stands up awkwardly and you give him a peck before sitting down. He sticks his hand out towards Nick who takes it hesitantly.

“Good to see you man. I am really sorry for what happened in the hospital.” Jason says as if he is reading off lines. You can picture him rehearsing it and the gesture makes you smile.

“Um, no need to apology. I have made a lot of mistakes,” Nick says clearing his throat. You grab his hand and give him a heartwarming smile.

“But we are all safe and healthy and together now. And that is a win in my book,” you beam. Jason smiles down at you and the boys take a seat.

Jason’s hand grasps yours on the table as he talks animatedly about some movie he and Nick both happen to love. You feel a sense of calm rush over you as Jason and Nick carry easy conversation. No fists through walls or through each other’s faces so silent applause.

“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” Nick says rising from his seat. You smile at his departing figure.

“Thank you, Jay. It really means a lot,” you gleam at him and his heart gives a pang at your genuine radiance.

“Anytime Doll,” he whispers and kisses your hand. You both jump at the abrupt ringing coming from Nick’s coat.

“Oh, that might be Clarissa about Trey!” you say excitedly and reach into his pocket.

Your fingers clasp around the buzzing phone and your face pales at the blocked number written across the screen.

“Y/N, what is it?” Jason asks concerned.

“It’s him,” you say between gritted teeth. Before you can think about it you slide open the phone.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Ah, nice to hear from you Y/N. How’s the arm?” he asks and your fingers tighten around the phone.

“What the hell do you want?” you enunciate the words this time hoping to really convey your message.

“Or more importantly, how are the nightmares? Are they everything they are hyped up to be?”

“Stop calling. My family is not helping you anymore.” you speak firmly and hear chuckling in response. You end the call and it immediately begins buzzing in your fingers again so you slam it down on the table.

“Y/N? What did he say?” Jason asks with anger lacing his words to match your own.

“Nothing, we aren’t doing this anymore.” You stand up abruptly. “I am ending this now.”

“Wow, Y/N, let’s pull a brake before you do something stupid.” Jason says following suit and grabbing your arm gently.

“No. I am tired of overthinking. I am tired of taking the long way. And I am tired of it never actually mattering. I am ending this and you are either with me or not.” You fix a hard glare to indicate no budging and he lets go of your arm to run a frustrated hand through his hair. He groans in exasperation knowing firsthand how stubborn you are. You are doing this whether he likes it or not.

“What is going on?” Nick’s hesitant voice approaches from behind. You grab his hand.

“We are going home.” you take a step but Jason’s strides outmatch yours and he steps in front of you impeding your path.

“No,” he says and you open your mouth for an angry retort but he interrupts, “No, I mean you are going to do this, nothing on this forsaken planet will stop you, but I am not letting you out of my sight anytime soon.”

“Well there isn’t exactly room in our apartment for a third person. There’s barely enough room for the two of us.”

“I wasn’t talking about your apartment,” You scrunch your nose.

“Us three in your apartment?”

“Not exactly,” he says with a sly grin that never measures up to any good.

“I cannot believe I agreed to this,” You say with a duffel bag slung over your uninjured shoulder while standing in easily the biggest apartment you have ever been in. One hallway leads into another which leads to another and the amount of space is honestly dizzying. Bruce gave it to the two of you promising security but forgetting to provide a map of how to navigate the damn place.

"Home sweet home baby,” Jason yells dropping the heaping mass of bags he refused to make a second trip for on the ground. You wince at the echo of his voice and the bags smacking the ground. This place is ridiculous.

“Bruce seriously didn’t have a smaller hideout?” you ask slightly irritable. You are not upset at the size of the place you are just upset you aren’t with Nick and Trey. Especially when they are in danger.

“Look, I know you are frustrated with the situation,” Jason says and saunters up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and puts his head on your shoulder. “But Nick is incredibly safe with Roy and we have someone looking out for Trey. They will be fine and we get some quality time in a huge ass apartment. And”

“We are better off separated because it means more work for Mask’s, what did you call them-”

“Murderous Roadies,” he responds diligently.

“Yeah, whatever. I get it just doesn’t mean I like it.” Jason chuckles tickling your ear.

“Alright, Grumpypants let’s get cracking on your story,” he says and kisses your cheek before plopping down on the couch.

The rest of the night ends with you both sprawled out on the floor with your laptop and various notes in an array. With only a brief intermission to see how many pieces of popcorn Jay can catch with his mouth, you worked relentlessly on the article with Jay filling in some gaps of your story.

“Are you nervous?” Jason’s voice grows husky with exhaustion. You are resting comfortably in the crook of his arm. You have just finished reviewing the article for the last time and hit the send button but neither one of you has made a move towards a bed.

You ponder his question for a split second.

“Actually, no. I mean I am nervous the newspaper won’t take it but once they do, I don’t know. I will just be...”

“Relieved” Jason finishes for you. You snuggle closer to him and let out a deep breath.

“Yes, relieved.” you tilt your head up so you can see his face. “Do you think this will end it, honestly?”

Jason sighs and looks off absently.

“I sure hope so Doll.”

#red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #Red Hood X y/n #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batman #BatFam #batman imagine

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Superman & Lois Easter Eggs are a Love Letter to Every Era of DC History

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This article contains Superman & Lois spoilers.

Superman & Lois Episode 11

If you just tuned in to Superman & Lois episode 11, “A Brief Reminiscence In-Between Cataclysmic Events” a few minutes in, and perhaps without having seen the previous episodes, you might be forgiven for thinking that this is in fact the pilot episode for a brand new show about the Man of Steel. While every other Arrowverse superhero began life with a fairly detailed origin story episode (or season!), by the time we first met Tyler Hoechlin as Superman and Bitsie Tulloch as Lois Lane, both characters were meant to be well established in their world and careers. The actual first episode of Superman & Lois reminded us that these two were so “seasoned” that they’re already the parents of twin teenagers!

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So there are still plenty of questions to be asked about the backstories of our title characters, and “A Brief Reminiscence In-Between Cataclysmic Events” is a big step towards that. But it’s so much more than a “how did Lois and Clark meet/Clark’s first time in costume/Superman getting established in Metropolis” episode. It’s a genuine love letter to both of these characters, and one that successfully encompasses the entirety of their 83 year history.

Oh, and it manages to do all of that while ALSO still moving the main story of the season forward nicely. It’s an incredibly versatile episode, and a fine piece of storytelling in its own right, making the well-worn beats of the Superman origin story feel fresh and vital, without losing sight of everything else the season needs to do.

Young Clark Kent and the Fortress of Solitude

The opening of this episode, with young Clark trudging through the arctic, carrying the sunstone and trying to figure out both his and its purpose, is the first of many nods to Richard Donner’s 1978 superhero movie masterpiece, Superman. Clark is even wearing a similar red check flannel jacket to the one Jeff East wore in a similar scene.

Jor-El

The concept of Jor-El as an AI that runs the Fortress of Solitude (as well as the Fortress itself stemming from a Kryptonian artifact) also traces its roots back to Donner’s Superman film. That was the first time we got the notion that Clark had to learn about his powers and alien heritage from the collected memories of his biological father and his people, and it’s updated nicely here.

Man of Steel

Clark’s first flight in the arctic, with Jor-El’s words ringing in his ears, well…again, Donner’s Superman. But specifically the way it’s presented here with Clark’s powerful takeoff and unsteady first moments it feels a lot like a similar moment in Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel.

The Fleischer Superman Costume

While we did hear Superman say “my mom made it for me” in the first episode, here we get to see more of why that actually happened. Clark’s current suit definitely feels like something slightly alien, perhaps the Kryptonian ceremonial wear it was hinted as being in Donner’s Superman (the first place to use the “S” as a Kryptonian house crest), Man of Steel, and recent DC Comics. But for the majority of Superman’s comic book history, it has always been the case that Martha made Clark’s suit for him.

Superman & Lois splits the difference, though, with Martha having made Clark’s first costume…one that happens to look exactly like the first screen interpretation of Superman ever: the classic Max Fleischer animated Superman shorts which first arrived in 1941. If you haven’t seen these, please do so. They’re gorgeous. Spending more time with that suit in this episode is a real treat, and it’s a perfect illustration of why “less is more” with superhero costuming.

It even kind of explains why the “S” on the original suit wouldn’t be the perfect Kryptonian symbol that Clark and Supergirl wear in the present day: Clark probably helped her design it from memory, since the first time he would have seen his family crest was when the Jor-El hologram appeared to him in the Fortress!

Also, this may or may not have been intentional, but Martha telling Clark “go save the world” before his first adventure also happens in J.J. Abrams never-filmed Superman screenplay, which despite it’s reputation, when it gets stuff right, it really gets it right. I wrote about that in much more detail here.

First Day on the Job

The episode cheats ever so slightly by reusing footage from the pilot with Superman catching the green PT cruiser and chatting with the citizens of Metropolis. But it’s worth repeating that this is a gloriously realized homage to the cover of Superman’s first appearance in 1938’s Action Comics #1. But everyone knows that, right?

But here we go one further, with the revelation that this wasn’t a random flashback, it was truly Clark’s first act in costume as Superman! Again, a nice little tribute to Action #1.

It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane…

Superman changes back into Clark in a phone booth. I’m not sure at what point in Superman history that the “changing in a phone booth” became such an accepted bit of pop culture lore. It did happen in at least one of the aforementioned Fleischer Superman cartoons, and infrequently in the comics themselves, and almost NEVER in live action. In fact, Donner’s Superman even had a quick sight gag about this, when Christopher Reeve’s Clark is looking for a place to change for his first public act in costume, and gives one of those “modern” (for 1978) non-enclosed phone booths a bemused look.

A passerby notes to Clark that Metropolis’ new hero flew “like a bird or a plane.” This of course nods to the famed narration first popularized by The Adventures of Superman radio show (more on that in a minute) and the Fleischer cartoons: “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s…Superman!”

The Daily Planet

We don’t spend a heckuva lot of time at The Daily Planet on this show, but when we do it tries to capture the manic, bustling energy that we saw in Donner’s Superman (wow, that keeps coming up a lot…and with good reason).

Also, how good is Paul Jarrett as Perry White?

Lois Lane

Lois showing Clark the ropes at The Daily Planet is something that goes all the way back to their earliest appearances. I will die on this hill: Lois is slightly older than Clark, and is also the more experienced and better reporter. Even with “all those powers” (the real ones know) she’s at least one step ahead of Clark in the reporter game.

This one might not be intentional, but the montage of Lois and Clark on the job together reminds me very slightly of a montage page from John Byrne and Dick Giordano’s Man of Steel #2, where Lois, trying to track down Superman during his early days in Metropolis, keeps showing up just after he has left.

Lois and Clark staying late on the job has echoes of both the pilot episode of 1993’s Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman and the “rooftop scene” from Donner’s Superman. It is the former in that it’s the first indication of a romantic attraction brewing between them (and significant because up until that point in history it was ALWAYS the case that Lois was attracted to Superman and not Clark). But there’s also a hint of the latter in their playful but wary flirtation.

But that’s subverted further with Lois’ exclusive interview with Superman. Just as in Donner’s film, Lois lands the first exclusive interview with the Man of Steel (there it was in private for later print publication, here it’s on TV). But again, Lois isn’t interested in Superman, because she’s already in love with Clark. It completely eliminates the old “love triangle” where “Clark loves Lois, but Lois loves Superman, but Superman wants to be loved as Clark” which has been a staple of the legend for years. This isn’t a bad thing, mind you.

One more thing from that lovely evening scene with Lois and Clark working late: when Clark is getting ready to leave, Lois asks him “what’s your hurry?” In Superman II, when Lois was suspecting the truth about Clark, she asked him “What’s your hurry, Superman?”

Atom Man

OK, the inclusion of Atom Man is some next level stuff. The character first appeared in 1945 on The Adventures of Superman radio show. There, he was “Heinrich Milch” (hence the “Henry Miller” of this episode), a Nazi empowered by Kryptonite in his bloodstream.

We met a different Atom Man in the second Superman movie serial in 1950, the appropriately titled Atom Man vs. Superman. There, Atom Man was the alter ego of Lex Luthor. One of these days I’m going to get around to writing about Columbia’s Superman serials, but today is not one of those days.

The Atom Man we meet here is based on the visual design from Gene Luen Yang and Gurihiru’s EXCELLENT (seriously, I can’t stress enough how absolutely great this book is) Superman Smashes the Klan. That Atom Man was based on the “Henry Miller” version of the character, and thus the racist nonsense spouted by tonight’s villain is appropriate.

One other cool thing about the use of Yang/Gurihiru’s Atom Man? In Superman Smashes the Klan, Supes is rocking a version of his costume that looks very much like the Fleischer suit. The folks on Superman & Lois know exactly what they’re doing. One callback to the movie serial version? It seems that Henry Miller is bald and stocky, much like the very first screen Lex Luthor Lyle Talbot was in Atom Man vs. Superman. It’s like an Easter egg singularity!

Now FLY (do not walk) to your local comic shop to buy a copy of Superman Smashes the Klan which, in what will probably be my final mention of The Adventures of Superman radio show for tonight, is loosely based on a DIFFERENT adventure from the radio show. Anyway, it’s great and the best Superman story to hit comics in approximately a decade or so. Thank me later.

Morgan Edge, Tal-Rho, and Zeta-Rho

This episode continues and reinforces the “nature vs. nurture” debate around Morgan Edge that began last week. Here, the mirroring of his journey with Clark’s is made even more pronounced. Clark was given good guidance by Jonathan and Martha, and those lessons were only reinforced by Jor-El, while Tal-Rho just had those impulses amplified by Zeta-Rho in his desert fortress. Jor-El sent his only son to escape a dying planet in the hopes that he could help another one. Zeta-Rho sent his only son to revive a dying planet at the expense of a vibrant one.

The “headband” that Tal-Rho is using to insert himself into Superman’s memories (and Supes has a matching one) feels like a subtle nod to the fact that headbands were the height of Kryptonian fashion in the comics from the late 1940s until John Byrne’s reboot in 1986.

The apparently successful “turning” of Superman at the end of the episode had better be a red herring. This show has faked us out so many times in its final moments, I really can’t imagine they’re gonna do something as obvious as giving us an “evil Superman” for even one episode.

Other Cool Kryptonian Artifacts

When Clark returns to Smallville and tries to meet up with Lana, there are two films playing at the theater: one is an instalment in the Harry Potter franchise. The other is Friday Night Lights, the movie that inspired the TV show that has been a surprisingly strong influence on a lot of elements of Superman & Lois.

For the Smallville fans, there’s a “Teague’s” sporting goods store visible on the street, as well, possibly a nod to Jensen Ackles’ Jason Teague character from season four of that series.

Yes, Lois does indeed call John Henry Irons at the end of the episode. Steel is coming back!

Clark Kent is a Seinfeld fan! It’s canon! Why is this so significant? Jerry Seinfeld is a noted Superman fan, and on the famed TV show (the greatest TV comedy of the ’90s), there was a very visible Superman magnet on his refrigerator in many episodes. Wait…that causes reality problems that are going to make my brain hurt.

Was anyone able to catch the names of the books on Clark’s nightstand? They look like old sci-fi paperbacks, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

I didn’t spot any significant names in Clark’s yearbook, but I’m old and my eyes are going, so if you spotted anything, please let me know in the comments!

The post Superman & Lois Easter Eggs are a Love Letter to Every Era of DC History appeared first on Den of Geek.

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bruceewayne-moved · 7 years

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Henry Cavill but I think I already know the answer to that lol haha also hit me up 🌈 xoxo

thank you sm 🖤🖤🖤

distract me? + things for you? im freaking out and not being alive sounds great right now

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posts: the joker | harley quinn | wonder woman | bruce wayne | clark kent

mobile theme: ego | peter quill | gamora | rocket | baby groot

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chicagoindiecritics · 4 years

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New from Jeff York on The Establishing Shot: “SUPERMAN: RED SON” CONTINUES A RED HOT STREAK FOR WB ANIMATION

I’m hopeful for Robert Pattinson’s take on the role of Batman. And I enjoyed Margot Robbie’s spearheading of BIRDS OF PREY this past winter. However, when it comes to DC Comics adaptations, I get most excited about what the animators at Warner Bros are up to, year in and year out. Since the launch of BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES in 1992, the brilliant animation department creatives have delivered one excellent cartoon take on the DC roster after another. The latest is SUPERMAN: RED SON and it’s another winner, continuing a shrewd push towards darker material aimed beyond the kiddie mainstay for such cartoon adventures.

Interestingly, of the last dozen or so animated movies done by WB for VOD, most of them have skewed audiences well beyond junior high. The edgy and violent BATMAN: UNDER THE RED HOOD, THE DEATH OF SUPERMAN, and even JUSTICE LEAGUE: THE NEW FRONTIER with its retro 30s look, were hardly kid-stuff. BATMAN: GOTHAM BY GASLIGHT, a ‘what if’ reimagining of Batman chasing after London’s Jack the Ripper in the late 19th century even earned an R rating. It was bloody alright, but bloody fantastic too.

The same is true with SUPERMAN: RED SON. Based on the bestselling 2003 three-issue miniseries written by Mark Millar, and drawn by Dave Johnson and Kilian Plunkett, it’s smart, clever, and decidedly adult in every way. The story imagines Superman’s rocket ship from Planet Krypton landing, not in a wheatfield in Kansas, but one in Ukraine. Instead of fighting for “truth, justice, and the American way,” this Superman grows up in the 30s and 40s to become a dyed-in-the-wool Communist. Thus, he’s a champion of the common worker, fighting for socialism, Stalinism, and the expansion of the Warsaw Pact.

Whew! Pretty heady stuff. You might want to check Wikipedia’s “Cold War” page before watching. To truly appreciate that material, and the quite faithful adaptation of it that dropped on VOD this month, it helps to have a grasp of WWII and the 40 years of events that followed it. The animated film is clever and confident enough to include references to FDR, JFK, Sputnik, and the Berlin Wall without giving much exposition. The filmmakers assume you know what’s at stake in the story.

Still, even if you’re not a history major, you should get quite a kick out of this deftly done, 84-minute animated film as it’s incredibly appealing even if some of the historical moments don’t wholly register. The film not only does a clever riff on all that history but most vividly, it vamps the Superman legend itself in so many erudite ways. It often plays like a high-minded version of Bizarro Superman, the alter ego of Kal-El who was one of his best nemesis’ during the 50s. In fact, a version of Bizarro even makes a significant appearance here, battling him under the guise of “Superior Man.” This take is nothing if not meta.

Superman is all-Russian, all the time here, and it’s almost shocking to watch. He believes that the utopian society preached by Lenin is achievable and will do whatever it takes to see that vision become a reality. If that means that America becomes the great devil, so be it. As entertainment, it makes for a cheeky satire in its way, especially when archvillain Lex Luthor stands as the USA’s greatest cheerleader here, opposing Supes at every turn in the five decades the timeline covers.

Other twists on vaulted DC lore include Lois Lane, still an American here, becoming Lex’s bride and confidante. Brainiac is employed as an advisor to the Russian cause during the Cold War. Even Batman shows up to get in Superman’s hair as a Soviet rebel fighting its suppressive government headed by you-know-who. A lot of other DC stalwarts show up for variations on a theme too, including Wonder Woman, The Green Lantern’s Hal Jordan, and even Jimmy Olson. Here, he’s a crony of Luthor’s, with more than a passing resemblance to Mehcad Brooks’ strapping take on the character in the current SUPERGIRL television series on CW. These animated DC efforts are chock full of Easter eggs like that.

Still, this sort of effort flies on how well it tells the story, not on the bits in the margins, and its ability to use the powers of the animation genre in that telling. SUPERMAN: RED SON excels exceptionally in both arenas. Its script, adapted by J.M. DeMatteis, captures all the complexity of Millar’s prose. The direction by Sam Liu equals the superb work he did on BATMAN: GOTHAM BY GASLIGHT. He ensures that the animation here once again delivers on the breathless action, as well as showcasing three-dimensional characterizations.

Voice casting director Wes Gleason does a superb job with the cast he’s assembled here too. Jason Isaacs plays Superman with an older and more authoritative brusqueness and it’s brazenly perfect. Paul Williams may sound monotone as the AI Brainiac, but he’s coy perfection, pausing on certain words to underline their effectiveness. And veteran comic actor Diedrich Bader gives us a delightfully egotistical and surprisingly amusing Luthor. His is the best performance in the batch, and that is high praise considering that Clancy Brown did some of animation’s best voice work ever when he rendered the supervillain on multiple occasions over the past decades.

Vanessa Marshall plays a tough yet tender Wonder Woman and Amy Acker makes Lois Lane both intelligent and moral. That’s a slightly different take on Lois than we usually get, but it works with this “up is down, left is right” kind of material. Lois still has her zingers, mostly aimed at her lover Luthor. You know it’s an adult DC adaptation when Lois boasts about his prowess in bed. Take that, Clark Kent!

It could have been even edgier, and longer, but it doesn’t pull punches on its violence, like when Superman coldly assassinates the corrupt Stalin with a laser-eyed jolt. The movie also doesn’t pull punches on Wonder Woman’s sexual leanings. When Superman makes a pass at her, she reminds him of where she comes from, a land with only women. And like any period piece, SUPERMAN: RED SON comments on the politics of today, indicting a number of authoritarians on both sides of the Atlantic.

DC adaptations may be hit or miss on the big screen, but on TV and VOD, they consistently deliver the goods. WB’s animation department is one of the best in the business, equal to Pixar for its savvy and game-changing work. Their adult fare continues to do so here with projects like SUPERMAN: RED SON. Such material genuinely soars, up, up, and away.

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gokinjeespot · 5 years

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off the rack #1291

Monday, December 9, 2019

Thank Thor for Santa's little helper. We're about as ready for Christmas as I'll ever be. Penny is leaving soon for her annual drive up north to visit family and friends while I make sure all the lights I strung don't burn down the house. I finally got around to watching the animated feature "Big Hero 6" last night and was delighted by it.

Superman Up In The Sky #6 - Tom King (writer) Andy Kubert (pencils) Sandra Hope (inks) Brad Anderson (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). Oh man, this story has the most inept villain ever. We find out why Alice was kidnapped by an alien. I liked the trip back to Earth. Kids say the darnedest things.

Daredevil #14 - Chip Zdarsky (writer) Marco Checchetto & Francesco Mobili (art) Nolan Woodard (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Detective Cole North is conflicted after talking about the law over coffee with Matt. Meanwhile the Police Commissioner has ordered his cops not to go into Hell's Kitchen, leading to rampant crime. It's time for the return of Daredevil and Elektra is going to be tagging along. This is going to be good.

Young Justice #11 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) John Timms (art) Gabe Eltaeb (colours) Wes Abbott (letters). The team is back in their home dimension and they meet Naomi for the first time. Great time for a sleepover eh. Things go south when Superboy gets punked by the S.T.A.R. Labs lady. I can't wait to see what Brian Bendis does with Mike Grell's Warlord.

Archie #709 - Nick Spencer & Mariko Tamaki (writers) Sandy Jarrell (artist) Matt Herms (colours) Jack Morelli (letters). The 5-part story of Archie's romance with Sabrina comes to an end. I am happy with the outcome.

Savage Avengers #8 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Patch Zircher (art) Java Tartaglia (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). I love the clash of egos in this issue. Conan dines with Doom and Stephen crashes dinner. The three then go off looking for Kulan Gath. Hey, how else is the bad guy supposed to get his all powerful amulet back? I'm guessing it's another Doombot that runs afoul of the ancient wizard because heaven forbid they kill Doctor Doom again. Don't forget Doom died outside the UN in NYC and got shot dead by Taskmaster.

Ironheart #12 - Eve L. Ewing (writer) Luciano Vecchio (art) Geoffo (layouts) Matt Milla (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). The good guys beat the bad guys and Wakanda is saved. The End. I've followed Riri Williams since she was first created by Brian Michael Bendis and I am sad that she will no longer have her own book on the racks. The crew that put out these twelve issues did Brian proud.

Web of the Black Widow #4 - Jody Houser (writer) Stephen Mooney (art) Triona Farrell (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). It's a wounded Widow that opens this issue and we find out how that happens. Clint/Hawkeye the hothead acts before he has all the facts and Natasha pays the price. She winds up dead to rights and possibly dead period. I know she'll save herself and I want to see how she does it.

Batman #84 - Tom King (writer) Jorge Fornes (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). There are a mind boggling number of flashbacks this issue trying to explain what the ding dong heck is going on. It all leads to the confrontation of father and son with Thomas and Bruce Wayne fighting for the fate of Batman. I don't think everything is going to change after Tom King leaves this book but man, is he ever stirring the pot.

The Amazing Spider-Man #35 - Nick Spencer (writer) Oscar Bazaldua (art) Steve Firchow (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). This is the story where Doctor Doom was assassinated in front of the UN. Now the real Doctor Doom is pissed and has shut down New York City until the assassin is brought to him. Spider-Man finds the culprit with the help of his sister Theresa. They try to trick Victor in the end but he doesn't fall for it. It's a classic cliffhanger ending.

Doctor Doom #3 - Christopher Cantwell (writer) Salvador Larroca (art) Guru-eFX (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). So this Doc Doom is different from the one in The Amazing Spider-Man #35 even though they were both shot to start a war between Latveria and Symkaria. This is the real one. I really liked how Victor makes Mephisto his whipping boy. The surprise ending made me groan. And that's not to mention the inconsistency between panels 2 and 4 on page one. Very bad editing.

Marauders #3 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Michele Bandini (pencils) Michele Bandini & Elisabetta D'Amico (inks) Federico Blee (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). This X-book is for fans of political intrigue. The Black King, Sebastian Shaw inducts his resurrected son Shinobi into the Hellfire Club. Consider this X-Men: Game of Thrones. This is a lot more interesting than watching Kitty sail around rescuing other mutants.

Lois Lane #6 - Greg Rucka (writer) Mike Perkins (art) Gabe Eltaeb (colours) Simon Bowland (letters). Wow if the funeral for (spoiler alert) Alfred is as well done as this funeral for Lois's father it will be well worth the read. Lois has come a long way since she first appeared in comic books.

Annihilation - Scourge Fantastic Four #1 - Christos Gage (writer) Diego Olortegui (pencils) Juan Vlasco, Cam Smith & Scott Hanna (inks) Erick Arciniega (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). The team goes to the Negative Zone to help fight the scourge from the Cancerverse and encounter the Ftaghn Four, infected versions of themselves. I knew it was a ftaghn bad idea to read these one shots. The art was nice though.

20XX #1 - Jonathan Luna & Lauren Keely (writers) Jonathan Luna (art & letters). This new black & white book takes place in a future where a deadly virus either kills you or gives you special mind control powers if you survive. Survivors are designated Syms and are monitored by the government like sex offenders. It is illegal to use your powers so Syms have to be careful. Meria Bree Moore is a recent Sym and this is her story. I have yet to be disappointed by anything Jonathan Luna has done and this is no exception. Rest assured that I will want to read the rest of this story.

Black Cat #7 - Jed MacKay (writer) Travel Foreman (art) Brian Reber (colours) Ferran Delgado (letters). This is an excellent issue where Felicia rescues the Fox from the clutches of Odessa. Unfortunately the inconsistent art was very distracting. They should have found an inker to render Travel's pencils.

Batman Universe #6 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Nick Derington (art) Dave Stewart (colours) A Larger World's Troy Peteri (letters). I liked how Batman used deductive reasoning to get out of his white prison. It could have been an uh-oh situation when Vandal Savage gets his hands on the White Power Ring but he was set up to fail quite cleverly. I've noticed that there's always an "AGH" in every comic book that Brian writes and when Bruce Wayne asks the Riddler where Vandal Savage, AKA Vandar Adg is I had to say "har".

Conan Serpent War #1 - Jim Zub (writer) Scot Eaton (pencils) Scott Hanna (inks) Frank D'Armata (colours) Vanesa R. Del Rey (art: James Allison sequence) Jean-Francois Beaulieu (colours: James Allison sequence) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). Conan must face the serpent god Set but this time he's going to be teamed up with other heroes. There's Moon Knight, Solomon Kane and Dark Agnes (because another company has the rights to Red Sonja I'm sure). Jim writes in a style similar to Robert E. Howard so this was an enjoyable read. The art isn't bad and I liked the homage to Barry Smith with Conan's horned helmet and necklace. Let's see how many times the Cimmerian exclaims "by Crom" in this story.

Thor: The Worthy #1 - This one-shot would be right at home on the racks in the nineteen seventies. There are three tales of others who have been deemed worthy of wielding the hammer.

"Beyond the Field We Know…" by Walt Simonson (writer) Mike Hawthorne (pencils) Sal Buscema (inks) Tamra Bonvillain (colours) & John Workman (letters) has Beta Ray Bill teamed up with the Lady Sif to fight a rock troll. I forgot that those two were romantically linked in the past.

"Hearts of Stone, Feet of Clay" by Tom DeFalco (writer) Ron Frenz (plot & pencils) Keith Williams (inks) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) & VC's Clayton Cowles (letters) features Eric Masterson as Thunderstrike versus the Grey Gargoyle. This tale was cheesy with the inclusion of the police strike force Code: Blue. They tried to give it a modern twist by having a lesbian couple in the story.

And finally "Rules of Reflection" by Kathryn Immonen (writer) Tom Reilly (art) Chris O'Halloran (colours) & VC's Clayton Cowles (letters) sees the Lady Sif figuring out that the new female Thor is really Jane Foster. It's in the last words Sif says to Thor in the last panel of the second to last page. Har.

X-Men #3 - Jonathan Hickman (writer) Leinil Francis Yu (pencils) Gerry Alanguilan & Leinil Francis Yu (inks) Sunny Gho & Rain Beredo (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). I've been waiting for new super villains to show up to challenge the X-Men and this issue delivers. Meet the not so helpless little old ladies of Hordeculture, average age 71. Agrochemist Augusta Bromes, bioengineer Opal Vetiver, geneticist Lily Leymus and botanical engineer Edith Scutch. They want to return planet earth to it's pristine Garden of Eden condition by eliminating most of humanity. I like them.

Annihilation - Scourge Nova #1 - Matthew Rosenberg (writer) Ibraim Roberson (art) Carlos Lopez (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). This was better than the FF one-shot that hit the racks at the same time. I got a few chuckles catching up with Richard Rider. You don't even have to know anything about this cosmic super hero because the first three pages explain his entire existence up to this point. My enjoyment of this made me want to check out the Silver Surfer and Beta Ray Bill one-shots that will hit the racks December 11.

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svgurl410 · 4 years

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fic: you know me (honey, it’s all or none)- clark/oliver

Fandom: Smallville Character/Pairings: Clark Kent/Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan, Bruce Wayne Rating: PG Warnings/Spoilers: none/none Word Count: 10,445 Summary: future fic; Oliver thinks Clark doesn’t need him.

AO3 link

Another day, another meeting. Oliver Queen, decked in his Green Arrow gear, strode into the Hall, the chosen headquarters of the Justice League. As he glanced around, he exchanged nods and smiles with some of the other members, stopping when AC waved him over to the small group that had formed in the corner.

“Hey,” he greeted the other man, who was standing along with Dinah Lance, Bart Allen, and Diana Prince. Acknowledging the trio, all of whom were wearing amused expressions, he asked, “Did I miss a good joke?”

“No,” AC replied, grinning at him. “Bart was just bragging that he was here before Bruce.”

Ollie raised an eyebrow and smiled. “For one, he should be here before everyone, and two, how do we know for sure that Bruce is not already here?” he questioned, sparing a glance at the other man, and causing Bart to pout and the rest of the group to chuckle. Batman had gained quite the reputation of, despite having no superpowers of his own, disappearing and reappearing suddenly and without notice.

“Fair point, we should just ask Clark,” Dinah laughed. “If anyone is able to keep track of Bruce, it is him.”

Ollie’s smile strained but he nodded. “Yes, well, as much as anyone can keep track of Bruce anyway.”

“We should ask him his secret,” Diana remarked.

“No secret about it, “Bart interjected. “He’s just the favorite. As much as Batman can have a favorite anyway. Seems kind of terrifying to be Batman’s favorite anything if you ask me, but I guess it’s better than being on his shit list.”

“Think it goes both ways,” AC pointed out. “We all know Batman is Clark’s favorite too. I am surprised they are not together right now.”

“If they were, would we know?” Bart retorted.

Ollie swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, as the rest of them bantered, clearly entertained by the topic at hand. It was not like this was a unique topic of conversation amongst the League, but it still rubbed him the wrong way every time.

“I’m going to get some water,” he managed. After exchanging quick goodbyes, he headed toward the kitchen, taking a few quick breaths to try to calm down and push the conversation out of his head.

Once there, what he saw had him pulling to a stop, lips unconsciously curving into a smile at the sight. Clark Kent, better known to the world as Superman, wasn’t with Bruce, as some of his teammates thought, but instead was standing in front of the cabinets, a jar of peanut butter in one hand, and a box of crackers in the other, his lips pressed together as he seemed to be intently glancing at the back of the box.

“You know,” Oliver remarked, causing Clark to spin around at the sound of his voice, “I never knew a box of crackers could be that interesting. If it helps, I don’t think you have to worry about the calorie count.”

Clark smiled, the warmth of it hitting him like a ray of sunshine, making him want to stand there and bask in it. Ugh, such a sap. Stop acting like a pining idiot. Fortunately, his friend was oblivious to his thought process.

“I was just reorganizing some of the food,” Clark explained.

Ollie raised an eyebrow. “I would assume Superman had better things to do. Aren’t you busy enough as it is?”

“I’m no Oliver Queen,” Clark teased, setting the items in his hand on a shelf and closing the door. “Pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen you since our last meeting and that was over a month ago so if anyone is too busy, it is definitely you.”

“Oh right, you’re just trying to save the entire world,” Oliver pointed out. “I’m still limited to Star City.” The rest of the Clark’s statement hit, causing him to frown. “Yeah, I guess it has been a while.” As if he didn’t feel it, as if there weren’t moments in the middle of a day where it would just hit him how much he missed Clark and seeing him on a regular basis. Those were the times he wished he had stayed in Metropolis, but there were others where it just felt he was better off in Star City. Better off not being so close and having forced to see, forced to witness more of what he already knew.

What he was surprised was that Clark himself noticed. Between his work at the Planet and how much Superman was needed, Oliver believed Clark didn’t even think of him, much less realize how long it had been since they had seen one another.

“So we’re both busy,” Clark agreed, effectively snapping Oliver out of his thoughts. “Are you heading back to Star City immediately after the meeting?”

“Probably,” Oliver told him. “Unless there is a reason for me to stay-” He trailed off when he heard his name being called.

“Ollie, there you are!”

Oliver turned toward the sound, grinning at the sight of Hal Jordan walking in. The Green Lantern had become of Ollie’s closest friends in the League almost instantly after the other man joined, the two of them bonding through their sarcastic sense of humor and easy going nature.

Hal nodded toward Clark. “What’s up, Big Blue?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Clark replied, his smile seeming a little more forced. “How are you?”

“Could be better, have been worse,” Hal said, shrugging. Turning to Oliver, he added, “Sorry about bailing a couple nights ago.”

Oliver waved it off and shot him a teasing grin. “I’m used to you having to leave suddenly during our dates. How’d it go? Sinestro still being an asshole?”

Hal rolled his eyes at Oliver’s reference to Hal’s former mentor turned nemesis. “Yeah, nothing new there either. You free after the meeting? Do I have a story for you.”

“Sure, I have nothing planned,” Oliver responded. “And now I’m more than curious so this better be good.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Hal shot back, brown eyes sparkling. “Meeting about to start though, right? I thought I was going to be late.”

“I was surprised you weren’t,” Oliver laughed. “We should probably head over though. I don’t need you to be dragging my reputation down to your level.” Suddenly, he remembered that he had forgotten Clark in the midst of catching up with Hal, and he turned to the other man, smiling apologetically. “See you there?”

Clark returned the smile and nodded, an unreadable expression in his blue-green eyes. Oliver didn’t have time to question it though and followed Hal as he walked toward the hallway and into the main meeting room, where he was greeted with the familiar sight of the large oval table in the middle of the room, and monitors plastered against the walls. With the way the League was still expanding, they were probably going to need a bigger room at some point, Oliver noted to himself, as he took a seat next to Hal.

Batman was already seated at the front of the table, folders in front of him; he and Clark alternated these days over who took charge of the meetings, Ollie surprisingly fine with taking a back seat as the team grew larger. For all that Batman had claimed he was a loner and Clark reluctant to take over what he felt was Oliver’s role, they had both settled in to the position nicely.

He watched from his seat as all the other members drifted in, Superman among them, deep in conversation with Victor Stone. The two parted and Clark walked over and took the seat next to Batman, the two of them greeting one another. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but Clark’s bright smile at the other man caused him to lower his eyes, remembering the conversation he had when he had entered. It wasn’t like they had been far from the truth about the state of Clark and Bruce’s relationship status. Bruce Wayne, which felt more like Batman’s alter ego than the other way around, and Oliver had interactions in their personal lives due to their jobs but not as much while in costume, and they had never been that close. Batman and Superman however were a different story. At the beginning, they were at odds, mostly due to Bruce’s distrust of Clark, but now they were partners and friends. “World’s finest” was what one paper dubbed them, after a joint save too many, a phrase that still left a bad taste in Oliver’s mouth.

But then again he tried not to think about it too much. Especially when there were tabloids speculated on whether the real love triangle was between Superman, Lois Lane, and Batman, with Superman in the center, not Lois. Oliver knew for fact that Clark and Lois were only friends, and they themselves got a laugh out the rumors about the two of them, but sometimes, he wondered about Clark and Bruce.

For better or for worse, Batman stood up, getting everyone’s attention and started the meeting, forcing Oliver to push the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, before he could continue to dwell.

At least the meeting went smoothly, Oliver managing to offer suggestions on a planned raid that was taking place in a few days, and they were able to end the meeting in less than two hours, which included a small break. Once it was officially over, Oliver stood up, glancing at his phone, trying to check on any notifications he had missed out.

Glancing over a few emails, he realized that he would be in Metropolis for a few days after all, meetings unexpectedly having popped up. Making a few notes on his calendar, he put his phone away, and lifted his head, finding himself locked with a pair of blue-green eyes across the room. Ollie shot Clark a grin and the smile was returned, causing Oliver to feel warm all over again. He thought about making a move toward Clark, let him know that he would be in town, and perhaps even suggest a meet up, but then just as quickly as he had Clark’s attention, it was gone again. Batman was speaking and Clark turned toward him, immediately focusing on the other man.

Oliver’s shoulders dropped and he looked away, meeting Hal’s own gaze, as his friend raised an eyebrow curiously. He just shrugged in response. “Still up for drinks? I think you owe me a story.”

“Yeah, of course,” Hal agreed. “Have a dinner date with Carol so not too long though.” Carol Ferris was Hal’s childhood friend and longtime on and off girlfriend. Clearly it was on again.

“You might want to be on time for that one,” Oliver joked, trying to liven up the mood and shove away any negative feelings. “How many chances is this now?”

Hal rolled his eyes and stood up. “Who can keep track? Just don’t remind her.”

“Think you’re safe there,” Oliver retorted, as they made their way toward the door. He suddenly stopped as it seemed another pair had the same idea, and his smile turned stiff at the sight of Clark and Bruce, who stopped their conversation to nod in acknowledgement of them.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones trying to get the hell out of here, huh?” Hal cracked.

Batman raised an eyebrow. “Apparently so, though I’m certain not as eager about the fact as you are.”

Hal shrugged, looking completely unapologetic. “Any exciting plans or are you going to go hide in your cave?”

“Nothing that would interest you,” Bruce told him, tone dry as ever.

“Eh, well, that was a given,” Hal replied. Oliver’s lips twitched but he didn’t smile. Hal and Bruce’s interactions tended to be entertaining; their personalities had caused them to clash from the start and even though Ollie knew that they had a grudging respect for one another, neither would ever admit it out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clark biting his lower lip, clearly trying to keep his own amusement in check and he felt a shared moment with his friend, despite being an outsider in the situation.

“And we should all probably get going,” Oliver interrupted, not wanting to wait around to see how long this would go on.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Hal said. They managed to maneuver and find themselves back in the hallway, all heading toward the entrance, both pairs falling back into conversation. Oliver couldn’t help but overhear Clark and Bruce’s conversation though.

“Did you still want me to come over for the-” Clark was saying.

“If it is possible,” Bruce replied.

“It is,” Clark said. The casual nature and the flow of their conversation caused his heart to twinge, but he pushed it away.

Oliver forced himself to listen to Hal and keep his conversation going. When they reached the door, he turned around, as so not to be rude. Bruce met his gaze and nodded.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Bruce told them.

“See you Bats, Supes,” Hal said cheerfully. Clark repeated the sentiment.

“Night Batman,” Oliver said, keeping his voice steady. “Later, Big Blue.” He turned toward Hal and followed him outside, not waiting for a response.

“So I have to go change,” Oliver told Hal. “Meet you at the usual spot in thirty?”

“Sure,” Hal agreed, before flying off. Oliver found his motorcycle, and hopped on, but before he left, he saw Superman and Batman exiting as well. What caught his eye was Clark’s expression seemed a bit distant. I wonder what’s going on in his head.

Not wanting to linger and catch their attention, he revved up his motorcycle and drove off. Besides, Bruce would be much better at solving whatever was going on with Clark than Oliver ever could. With that thought in mind, he headed to back to his apartment, quickly replacing his Green Arrow outfit for a pair of jeans, a forest green t-shirt and a black leather jacket.

True to his word, a little over thirty minutes later, he landed up at their designated meeting spot, Hal already there, and seated in a booth in the back. Sliding across from him, they exchanged smiles and greetings. Fortunately, the bar was casual and had enough people that he would be able to be inconspicuous.

Once they had ordered, they fell into an easy conversation, and Oliver felt more comfortable than he had all night. Their drinks arrived, and he took a sip of his beer, letting the last of the day’s tensions leave him. As Hal animatedly chatted about what went on at work, two guys walked past them, and the name “Superman” caught his attention. Looking up, he saw they were already gone, and the context missed him completely, but the image of Clark looking lost as he left earlier pushed to the forefront of his mind, making Oliver frown.

“Ollie?” Hal said, his voice breaking through Oliver’s thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Oliver responded, taking another sip of beer. “What were you saying?”

“Dude, you don’t look okay,” Hal told him, expression turning concerned as he leaned back in his seat.

Ollie paused. What was he supposed to say to that? “I’ll be fine,” he finally assured him, rubbing a hand on his face. “Guess I am just a little distracted.”

“Want to call it a night?” Hal offered.

He shook his head immediately. “No, I’ll be all right.” The only thing that would result in was him being left alone with his thoughts, and tonight was not the night he wanted to go down that particular path.

“If you say so,” Hal responded, doubt clear in both his expression and tone. He looked as if he was going to say more, but his eyes shifted toward the back wall. Ollie turned his head and followed his gaze, wincing as he saw what caught Hal’s attention. One of the TVs in the bar was turned on to a local news channel that was currently discussing a recent story about Superman and Batman breaking up a sex trafficking cult.

He turned back toward Hal, their eyes meeting. “Those two make quite the duo, don’t they?” Hal commented.

“Yeah, they do,” Ollie agreed reluctantly. The perfect partners, a duo that balanced each other out and saved the world together …one time, he thought he could be that other half for Clark, but that was clearly ridiculous. It was never going to happen for you. And it never would.

Hal must’ve seen something in his expression, because his shifted into one that seemed thoughtful. “You know, you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Ollie chuckled. “Does Carol know that you have this sensitive side?”

That got Hal to smirk. “I am a very sensitive person, in many a way.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Oliver replied, with a sip of his drink. With that, they fell back into an easy banter, the rest of their time together going smoothly. Soon enough, they had to take off, and after a short flight to Metropolis, he found himself back in his apartment there, his mood slightly improved.

Once he settled himself, a quick glance to his watch made him realize that he should grab some dinner, and considering the state of his kitchen, he knew that it would have to be some sort of takeout. Grabbing his laptop to look up some menus, he wandered over to the chaise lounge and turned on the TV for background noise, only to quickly regret his decision.

Just his luck that the channel it was on was going on none other than the topic he was trying to avoid: Superman and Batman, and the depth of their so-called unique partnership. He knew he should turn it off or change the channel but instead just lowered the volume, studying the images on the screen. Even after all this time that Clark had been known as Superman, one of the greatest heroes the world had ever known, he could not help but remember Clark, the man he had met in this very penthouse. Always the hero, though much more reluctant to reveal himself to the world as such back then. Some days, it felt like he was completely a different person, but others, he could definitely still see the man he met all those years ago.

As for Batman, Oliver was certain he would never get a read on him. That was left to Clark, his other half, his perfect partner. Oliver did truly think once upon a time, that it could be the two of them, but how could it when Ollie had never fit Clark like Bruce did? Bruce, who somehow managed to beat him in every way possible, both in and out of costume, and not only that, had the same staunch moral “no killing code” that Clark to this day still proudly abided by.

A lump formed in his throat again, as he recalled Batman declaring that the League did not kill and the happiness and pride and most importantly, the relief, on Clark’s face. Oliver, on the other hand, would only always remember the look of horror when he remembered how cruelly he revealed his own murder of Lex Luthor. Sure, the other man ended up alive after all, but that did not make him any less of a murderer. Any less of a disappointment. It was a miracle that he even got to keep Clark in his life after all that.

Just like Clark upgraded from his red blue blur persona to Superman, he found a hero worthy to be his partner, in the crime fighting world and for all he knew, in his personal life too. If he was honest with himself, Oliver had never been a candidate for either position. Clark had never looked at him that way. Sometimes, he wondered if it was better to know for sure or just consider ‘what if’, but he could not settle on an answer. His mood ruined, he stood up suddenly, and turned off the TV, laptop and dinner options forgotten.

A knock snapped him out of his thoughts and he spun toward the noise, which was coming from the balcony, and took a startled step backward at the sight before him. The very person occupying his thoughts stood before him, behind the glass door. Clark, in his Superman outfit, grinned sheepishly and waved. He was stunned, but managed to quickly compose himself so he could walk toward the doors and unlock it, sliding them open.

“Hey,” he said, smiling, moving aside so Clark could enter. “I know the balcony and rooftops are your thing, but usually people take the elevator.”

Clark shrugged and grinned, as he followed him inside. “I didn’t even realize you would be home, but I was flying past your place, and saw you were in so I figured I would drop by.”

Closing the door, Ollie shook his head. His mind was jumbled but despite his mixed emotions, he was always happy to see Clark. “Well, hopefully you were not spotted. If the wrong people see you landing on my balcony, we are going to make some headlines.”

“I am sure the Inquisitor will be too happy to use a pun involving your last name,” Clark offered, chuckling.

Ollie shook his head and laughed too. “From Gotham’s knight to a Queen,” he joked, easily imagining all the possibilities in his head.

“Yeah,” Clark agreed, but then paused suddenly. “Wait, what?”

Ollie was walking toward the couch, moving his laptop to the glass table, and turned around at the confusion in Clark’s voice. “Hmm?”

“You said Gotham’s knight,” Clark pointed out.

“Oh yeah, don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors about you and Batman?’ Oliver asked, tilting his head, trying not to the let his feelings over the statement seep into his voice.

Clark shook his head, but answered, “Maybe once or twice. I didn’t realize it was that big of a thing. Mostly they still stick with my alleged romance with Lois.”

“You need to pay more attention then, Mr. Big Shot reporter,” Ollie joked. “It’s everyone’s new favorite topic.”

“I think I would rather avoid that type of story, thanks,” Clark retorted. “And I have never been one to pay much attention to gossip, especially when it is about me.”

“You would think that is the best kind, but can’t say I blame you,” Oliver agreed, wondering when an appropriate time to ask about the truth to those rumors, or whether he even he should, was. Not yet. He would need a little more courage, possibly of the liquid kind. “All done with patrol for the night?”

“Might head out again if there is anything significant, but yeah,” Clark told him. “No plans for you? I actually was surprised that you were in town.”

“Turned out I had some business here,” Oliver explained, gesturing to the couch. Once Clark was seated, he took a seat on a chair opposite him. “Just got in actually.”

“I thought you had some plans with Hal,” Clark said, his tone suddenly cautious.

Ollie shrugged. “We were only meeting for drinks. He had a dinner date with Carol.”

“Carol?” Clark repeated, tilting his head.

“Carol Ferris? Of Ferris Air?” He waited for Clark’s nod of recognition at the famous military aircraft company. “Yeah, she’s Hal’s girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know Hal had a girlfriend,” Clark said slowly, after a moment.

“Well you two don’t spend a lot of time making chit chat,” Ollie joked.

“So they’ve been seeing each other for a while?” Clark asked.

“They’re childhood friends,” Ollie answered. “Honestly, it depends on the day how steady the relationship is. They have had so many make up ands breakups that it makes your former relationship with Lana look stable.” He grinned, keeping his tone light, and hoping Clark would not take offense.

But Clark did not seem to register his comment, his expression a little distant, and serious, as he nodded again, seeming to take in the information.

“You okay?” Ollie had to ask.

As if seeming to hear him for the first time, Clark started, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem it,” Ollie told him. “Is Hal’s love life weirding you out that much? Or giving you unpleasant flashbacks?”

A small smile graced Clark’s lips. “No, I was surprised. I thought-” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What did you think?” Ollie wanted to know, leaning forward in his seat.

Clark rubbed his hand across his face, a blush coloring his cheeks. It was a cute look. He started to speak but then stopped, and sighed.

“You can tell me,” Ollie urged, his tone gentle. “I won’t judge.”

“Actually,” Clark said finally, letting out a laugh that seemed more forced than Ollie had ever heard it be. “I was surprised, because I thought, well, I thought you were dating Hal.”

“Me?” Clark could have told him almost anything, and it would not have thrown him off as much as what he just said. A bubble of laughter escaped his lips at the idea before he could think about it. “Why would you think that?”

“You two are practically attached at the hip,” Clark replied, running a hand through his hair, gaze facing downward. “And I don’t know, everyone has talked about how close you are, and sometimes you seem so flirty. I misunderstood, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Oliver was quick to reassure him, as he pondered the words, leaning back in his seat. Him and Hal? While Oliver could objectively acknowledge the other man was handsome and they had a good rapport, he had never thought of him as anything as a friend. As Clark’s words registered, he wondered out loud, “Who is everyone?”

“The League mostly,” Clark answered, wringing his hands together as he looked up once more.

“Didn’t realize I was such a popular topic,” Oliver murmured. Seeing the worry on Clark’s face, he smiled, hoping to express that he wasn’t upset at the suggestion. “They do love to gossip, don’t they?”

“Got to do something while they’re not saving people, apparently,” Clark replied, seeming to ease up. He seemed to want to continue but hesitated and stopped instead. Ollie waited patiently for him to continue, and fortunately, without any prodding, Clark did. “So, really, you two- never?”

Understanding his meaning, Ollie shook his head emphatically. “No, he’s one of my closest friends, but that’s always how it has been. Even if it Carol didn’t exist, it would not be like that.”

How could it, when no matter how much Ollie had tried, he could never forget the man sitting in front of him? He had dated, had slept with other people, but no one seemed to compare. Oliver was afraid no one ever would.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Clark frowned. “Huh. But just …. Earlier you were talking about missed dates and at the last meeting, I overheard him teasing him about your kissing skills?”

That caused Ollie to frown, until he recalled what Clark was referencing and chuckled. “Yeah, I was joking about the dates. Just the way we interact. And we’ve kissed, but we were undercover at the time. He has been having way too much fun with that story. Did not realize you heard.”

If he remembered that meeting correctly, Clark had been distant for most of it, and the rest of the League hadn’t seemed to blink an eye, but Oliver had noticed. He had to leave immediately afterwards so he didn’t have time to question his friend or analyze his behavior.

Until now.

“I hear most things, for better or for worse,” Clark offered, relaxing once more. “See, this is why I avoid the gossip.”

“Yeah, you're right; half heard conversations have to be the cause of almost every misunderstanding, both in reality and fiction,” Ollie pointed out, grinning, and standing up. “I should tell you the story about what went down, and by the way, anything Hal says about my kissing skills is a lie.”

“Of course,” Clark replied, mock seriously, a twinkle in his eyes, standing up too.

“But I’m going to get some dinner first though,” Oliver said. Feeling hopeful, he asked, “Want to stay? If you haven’t eaten?”

“I haven’t eaten,” Clark responded, nodding. “If it isn’t any trouble?”

“Just going to order some food, won’t be an issue to order more,” Ollie said. “That is what I was doing, before you showed up, just thinking what to get. Any suggestions? There is some new Thai place down the block, right?”

Clark immediately shook his head. “No, Lois and I went there once, and their food is pretty good, but they use a lot of peanut oil. I think you can ask for a substitute, but you never know with takeout.”

Ollie wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, well, that’s a no go then. An allergic reaction would definitely put a damper on the evening. Maybe pizza then? What’s the name of the place you like again? Do they deliver?”

“Patsy’s?” Clark offered. “They do. We can get whatever you want though. I’m flexible.”

‘I’ll bet you are,’ his traitorous mind was too happy to chime in. Now that he wasn’t distracted by his thoughts, it was all too easy to be taken in by Clark’s too tight costume. The first time he saw it, he had to tease him to no end about how Clark clearly caved with the cape, or otherwise, he would have not been able to concentrate on anything but how the spandex like material clung to every muscle, showing off a body that Oliver was too used to seeing covered up and wishing he could see more of. Even now, being in close proximity like this was not easy.

“Pizza is good,” he managed. Pulling up the website, he noted the phone number and scanned the menu. “You will have to let me know if you have a favorite. Otherwise, I’m just going to assume you will want something with pepperoni and sausage. I know, no mushrooms.”

Hearing no response, he looked up to see Clark watching him silently. “Did I get that wrong?” Oliver wondered out loud, causing Clark to immediately shake his head.

“No, that’s right,” Clark responded, his mouth fixed in a line. “Anything with that is fine.”

“Ok,” Oliver said, a little thrown by his tone, but deciding not to dwell. He was personally getting hungry anyway. Making a quick call, he ordered two large pizzas, garlic bread, and two house salads. After he gave his information, he hung up, and smiled. “Looks like it will be thirty minutes.”

“That’s a lot of food,” Clark pointed out, chuckling. “Were you planning on secretly having a small party?”

“I’ve seen you eat,” Ollie shot back. “Also, you should just mentally prepare yourself, because I do plan on sending all leftovers home with you.”

“Somehow I will make the sacrifice,” Clark said wryly, making Ollie chuckle once more.

“You know, we have time, so if you want to go home and change, you can,” Oliver offered. “Or you know, put whatever you wear over it.”

Clark glanced down at his uniform and grinned. “Yeah, wouldn’t be professional if I accidentally got pizza sauce on my uniform.”

“At least it would blend into the cape,” Oliver teased. “But otherwise, you would end up in another type of headline.”

“Might make me more relatable,” Clark murmured. Oliver wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it, but before he could even respond, Clark continued, “Okay, I will be back in flash.”

“Literally,” Ollie laughed. “Bart will be insulted if you steal his catch phrase though.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “I trust you can keep it between us.” Then, with a gust of wind, he was gone, and before Oliver could walk to the kitchen, he heard a noise, and spun around to be greeted by Clark, standing in the same place, but now in a pair of jeans and a navy blue knit sweater.

“Miss me?” he quipped.

Ollie laughed. “Yes, I didn’t know how I could bear another second. Want a drink? I was just going to get a couple of bottle of beers.” At Clark’s nod, he headed to the kitchen, and grabbed a few bottles of beer from the fridge, and once he opened two, he returned, handing one to Clark, who accepted it with a ‘thanks’.

“You know,” Oliver said thoughtfully, after they had taken their previous seats. “I thought you had plans this evening too. Wasn’t there something you were supposed to do with Bruce?”

Clark tilted his head and then shrugged. “Yeah, Bruce needed to me to take a look at something he had found. Didn’t take long, just wanted to verify his suspicions.”

Taking a sip of his beer, Ollie nodded slowly, taking in the information. “I think you’re one of the few people that Batman would willingly come to for help. I know you’re Superman and you always seem to achieve the impossible, but who knew you were a miracle worker?”

“It’s certainly a far cry from where we started off,” Clark acknowledged, laughing. “He’s guarded and reluctant to trust people. I can get where he’s coming from, even if we did have a few clashes when we first met. Not unlike us, I would like to point out.” Ollie tried not to dwell on the depth of Clark’s knowledge and understanding of Bruce and pushed on.

“We did have our share of disagreements,” Oliver agreed, drifting into memories that were not always the most pleasant. Some of those arguments could have and should have torn them apart for good, and maybe he should start being less jealous over what he wished he could have and be thankful for what he did.

“I’d like to think we came out of all of that stronger though,” Clark said suddenly, bringing Ollie’s attention back to the present.

“Probably because you never gave up on me,” Oliver pointed out. “I know I’d be dead a dozen times over without you.”

“And I am sure the same would have been true for me as well,” Clark reminded him. “At the end of the day, we are here because we never gave up on each other.”

Oliver ducked his head, his lips curving into a smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I can’t argue with you there.” He never would give up on Clark, not that the other man had ever given him a reason to.

“That’s a first,” Clark joked. “Our arguments were a little different though; you weirdly never had any distrust in my abilities or origin.”

That caused Oliver to frown. “Why would I?”

“Bruce didn’t trust me, because of what I could do,” Clark pointed out. “And we all know Lex may be failing in his battle to ‘defeat the alien’ but it isn’t because he is lacking for supporters.”

Ollie’s frown only deepened. He knew this, and every time he saw Lex touting his anti Superman propaganda, he wished he had put the other man down for good, and really wanted to put an arrow through his head, as well as those who followed his xenophobic ideology. For all the times he had wondered how it affected Clark, he realized he had never thought to ask the other man. Clark was always so sturdy and strong, that Ollie forgot that Clark, of all people, had the biggest heart of anyone he knew, and he should have remembered that he would feel it maybe even more than others.

“Well I never felt that way,” Oliver stated firmly. “I guess I was a little one track minded when it came to your powers.”

“Yeah you didn’t care where they came from, just that I did something with them,” Clark chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to ask … you weren’t even a bit scared to find out that I was an alien?”

“No, after spending any time with you at all, it is really hard to see you as a threat,” Ollie admitted. “You being an alien almost made sense; you always did seem too good to be human.”

Clark ducked his head. “Not too good. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Me of all people?” Oliver repeated. “What does that mean?”

Eyes still focused on the ground, Clark shrugged, fiddling with the label on the beer bottle. “Well, you have seen me at some of my worst moments. You know exactly how many mistakes I have made over the years.”

Ollie raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “I would think it is really the other way around. You have usually kept it together.”

“Come on, Oliver, I have made some real mistakes in the past and it is not right to just sugarcoat them,” Clark pointed out, raising his eyes once more, irritation edging into his tone.

“I’m not sugar coating anything,” Oliver said evenly. “We have definitely had some disagreements over how to handle certain issues, and I can imagine you have wished you did some things differently, but that does not change the fact that you are probably the best person I know.” Clark did not respond, his expression unreadable. Unsure what to do, Ollie set the bottle on the table, leaned forward, and rested a hand on his knee. “There is clearly something bigger going on here. Don’t think I didn’t hear your comment earlier about being more relatable. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I just …,” Clark sighed, biting his lower lip. “I guess I am tired of being seen as some perfect hero and it feels like that is the whole narrative these days, aside from Lex’s propaganda.”

“Superman is the favorite and people love to glorify their favorites,” Ollie pointed out. “It is like being an athlete or a celebrity; you get put on this pedestal, but that does not mean the part of you that they decide to portray in the media is all that you are.”

“Yeah, and on one hand, I need it to be like that, because the alternative would make my life a lot harder,” Clark admitted, setting his beer bottle down as well. “I need to have this perfect and clean image, because otherwise, I would be seen as more of a threat, with all my powers, but even when the people who know me see me as just Superman, it is harder to separate it all.”

Squeezing his knee gently, Ollie tilted his head. “What makes you think that?”

“It is just the interactions I have had lately,” Clark explained. “It was my idea to keep my head down and blend in, but so few people see me as just Clark. Even the League sees me as Superman, and that includes the people I knew before I put on the costume. Superman is part of who I am, but I don’t know, I just- I guess I don’t that side of me to be forgotten.”

“Last time I checked, Clark Kent was a Pulitzer prize winning reporter,” Ollie said teasingly, lips curving into a smile, causing Clark to chuckle as well. “Not exactly a nobody. There are those who see you, Clark. We haven’t forgotten you. I know I haven’t.”

“You haven’t?” Clark asked, hope filtering into his tone.

“Of course I haven’t,” Oliver assured him. “And I doubt I am alone.” He hesitated a moment, and then continued, “I noticed when I was about to leave early today, that you looked a little off when you were with Bruce. This has been bugging you for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Clark agreed. “It has been building up a little by little. I didn’t realize you noticed.”

“Couldn’t help it,” Oliver remarked. “Why did you think that I had forgotten you?”

“I don’t know what you thought, to be honest,” Clark told him. “You … this is so ridiculous, but you called me Big Blue today, before you left, and well, you never called me that before. You were one of the few people who still used my name, despite knowing about my powers, and after that, I just wondered if I had lost you too. If, just like everyone else, you just saw me as Superman.”

Whatever he was expecting, it was not that. So he was the reason for part of Clark’s distance? He vaguely remembered calling Clark that, but it was not intentional.

“I didn’t mean to,” Oliver said, realizing he should say something. “I think I have just spent too much time around Hal. It just slipped out.”

“And you wondered why people think you’re dating,” Clark pointed out, but the smile that was attached to those words seemed weak.

“Because they are relentless gossips,” Oliver remarked, rolling his eyes. “I remember those few weeks that Dinah and I were partnered up, there were rumors in the gossip columns that our alter egos were hooking up, and the rest of the League would not shut up about it. She got so annoyed; Bart is lucky he escaped with his ear drums in tact.” Clark laughed at the memory before growing serious once more, looking at him inquisitively.

“But really, you two never got close to getting together?” Clark asked. Oliver was unsure why he cared so much, but he shrugged, and shook his head anyway.

“No, we can get along as friends, but I don’t think a relationship would work,” he explained. “I haven’t had the best of luck with relationships myself, but Hal is kind of a commitmentphobe, which is why he and Carol are such on and off again mess. Either way, he does love her and I-” He stopped suddenly and realizing what he was about to say, felt his stomach drop. I love you. And the worst part of it was that it was completely true. Looking into Clark’s curious green eyes, he could not deny it any longer. Even though he was well aware of his own feelings, realizing the depth of them was enough to shake him to his core.

“And you?” Clark prompted, bringing him back to reality.

“I, I don’t feel that way,” Ollie lied, lamely, knowing the truth was impossible but unable to come up with a believable lie. Clark nodded slowly, not completely looking like he bought it, but fortunately, also not looking like he was going to push the topic so Ollie continued, needing to move on quickly before he changed his mind. “Besides, the rest of the League shouldn’t be trusted with this stuff. Unless you would like to admit to me that you and Bruce are indeed secretly in love after all.”

He had to force the words out, but what better way to get the answers to a question that had been haunting him for months? Maybe he would not like the answers, but at least he would have them.

And it was almost worth it to see the way Clark immediately spluttered, eyes going wide and expression confused. It was almost comical.

“Bruce and I are what?”

“I told you about the rumors in the tabloids earlier,” Ollie reminded him, surprised at the steadiness in his own voice.

“Yeah, the tabloids, not the rest of the League,” Clark replied, eyebrows furrowed. “Why would they even think that?”

“Same reasons you thought for Hal and me,” Oliver said, the butterflies in his stomach easing, as he tried his best not to get his hopes raised. Even if it wasn’t true, there was zero chance that Clark would have feelings for him. “You guys spend a lot of time together, and they think that you “tamed” Batman.”

“No one tames Batman,” Clark muttered, pursing his lips together.

“You’ve gotten closer than anyone else could have imagined,” Oliver told him. “We all can see you two make a great team; I guess it was not hard to imagine things either had gone further or could.” Suddenly, he realized his hand had been on Clark’s knee way longer than was appropriate, and began to move it, only to have Clark cover it with his own hand. The touch was surprising, but felt nice, and Oliver could not bring himself to pull away.

“As friends,” Clark responded firmly. “Nothing more, nothing less. We’re definitely not dating now and I can’t see it ever happening in the future.”

After all the time he spent being jealous and the heartache, it turned out the answer was just as simple as that. Maybe one day, Clark would find someone, because Ollie knew he deserved it, but he could not help the relief he felt rushing through his veins at that moment.

“I guess we should both stop listening to rumors then,” Oliver said, grinning.

“Told you that they cause nothing but trouble,” Clark said, smiling as well.

His grin widened. “Yeah, yeah, you were right.”

“That is twice in one night!” Clark exclaimed. “Miracles do happen.”

“Whatever, boyscout,” Oliver retorted. “Don’t count on it happening again.” Meeting Clark’s gaze again, he realized Clark’s smile had somehow brightened further.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Clark teased. “Will I get a prize if I get you to do it again?”

“Sure, why not,” Oliver offered. “But you should be prepared to lose.”

“I will celebrate my current victories then,” Clark responded, taking Ollie’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “I’m glad we got to talk about this.”

“Seems like it was a little overdue,” Oliver replied. “We got a little off track though. How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” Clark assured him. “I guess I just needed to let my feelings out.”

“Sometimes, that is all it takes,” Oliver agreed. “I think a lot of us, especially those of us in the League, have a tendency to keep everything to ourselves and eventually, it will take its toll.”

“It something we all pick up pretty early and is a hard practice to break,” Clark said, finally releasing his hand. “I wonder if it is an unintentional requirement of being a superhero.”

Oliver immediately missed the touch and reluctantly pulled his own hand back, setting it on his knee, though Clark’s words brought out a laugh. “Maybe. We all have one major secret to keep already so everything else gets bottled up too. People seem to have different ways of coping.”

“The best way is still talking to someone, but I guess in our line of work, it is hard to be in a relationship, because of the secrets alone,” Clark replied, lifting his bottle of beer and taking a sip before setting it down once more.

“Some people make it work,” Oliver pointed out, thinking of some of the paired up members. “Even Wonder Woman is dating uh, what’s his name, the pilot …”

“Steve Trevor,” Clark filled in. “I’ve met him; good guy. It is hard to be in a relationship with someone that has such a big destiny, but he really balances her out nicely.”

“You would know,” Oliver remarked. Hell, even he knew. Lois and he hadn’t worked out because of it, and serious relationships after her had been a near impossibility; even if he disregarded his feelings for Clark, he had never found someone he felt he could let in completely.

“I definitely would,” Clark agreed. “I think you do too. Since you are apparently not dating Hal, is there anyone special in your life?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, I am still single. What about you? Still nothing between you and Lois?”

“As much as I imagine you have been waiting for an “I told you so” moment, no,” Clark replied, laughing. “We’re still friends. And there isn’t anyone else either.” There was a definite wistful note to his voice as he continued, “It would be nice if there were though. Some days, it seems like it just won’t ever happen.”

“It would be nice,” Oliver murmured, his heart giving a twinge as it always did. Raising his voice, he added, “I wouldn’t lose faith. I bet there is someone out there for you, someone who gets you, and who will also be able to handle your identity too.”

Clark just stared at him seriously. “Yeah, maybe.” To Ollie’s surprise, Clark’s face seemed to go through a few emotions as he took a deep breath, leaned forward, and continued, “Actually, Oliver-” That was the moment his phone went off, and staring at the unknown number, he held up a hand. As much as he wanted to know what Clark was going to say, he figured that this was their food.

“Hold that thought,” he told Clark and then picked up. It turned out he was right and pizza guy was there, downstairs in the lobby. Perfect timing, he thought. Telling him he would be there in a few minutes, he hung up, and got up.

“Pizza is here,” Oliver said, grabbing his wallet. “I’m just going to go downstairs and get it.”

“Let me get it,” Clark offered, standing as well, but Ollie just shook his head.

“No, it’s on me,” Oliver insisted. “Be back in a few.” Heading to the elevator, he glanced back once inside to find Clark watching him. Shooting him a small smile, he let the doors close. Even on the short ride to the lobby, his thoughts kept drifting back to Clark, but he tried his best to distract himself.

After reaching and paying the pizza guy, he carefully balanced the food, and headed back. Clark met him at the elevator door, and together, they took the food to the kitchen island, setting it out and putting it on a couple of plates. Ollie grabbed a few water bottles, and handed one to Clark.

Food and drinks in hand, they headed back to their original seats and started eating.

“The garlic bread is good,” Oliver acknowledged after a few minutes.

“Yeah, their food has always been consistently good,” Clark agreed. “The pizza places, and Italian restaurants around here in general, can be pretty hit or miss, but this one has never let me down.”

“If you are ever in Star City, I will take you to this restaurant near my office,” Oliver told him. “It is the best Italian food I have ever had in the States.”

“I will have to make my way there then,” Clark replied, taking a bite of his pizza. “You have piqued my curiosity.”

“Yeah, you will love it,” Oliver assured him. “The lasagna alone is amazing, and you may be one of the few people I know that can handle the portion size.”

“Well you have to try my mom’s recipe and see how it compares,” Clark told him, smiling warmly. “I will make it for you sometime, even if I can’t make it as well as she can.”

“Far be it for me to ever doubt Mrs. Kent’s recipes,” Oliver responded, matching his smile. “I didn’t know you cooked though.”

“My mom taught me,” Clark explained. “I try to do it now and then, but it is not as fun cooking for yourself, even if it does give me a little room to try some things.”

“Yeah, I am with you there,” Oliver said. “Cooking can be relaxing but it is far too much work for just one person.”

“So you cook too?” Clark asked.

“I’m not going to pretend I am anywhere close to your mom, but I can hold my own,” Oliver joked. “I make a pretty mean risotto and my chicken enchiladas have never failed to impress. One day, I will cook for you, and you can make the final verdict.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Clark replied cheekily, in between bites of his own food. “Considering how long it took for this to happen, I’m not sure when we will be able to fit in all these plans.”

“We’ll make it work,” Oliver promised, standing up to get more food. “Though we should probably space it out so you don’t get sick of me.”

Clark stood up, following him to the kitchen, and chuckled. “Nah, I can’t imagine that happening.”

Ollie’s heart fluttered, but when he turned to Clark, he managed to remain outwardly composed and pointed his finger at him playfully. “I will remember you said that so you better not complain in the future.”

“You go ahead and remember, because there will be no complaints,” Clark shot back, as they filled their plates and lingered in the area, leaning against the granite counter of the kitchen island. He paused and glanced over at Oliver. “Might feel more normal actually. I get why you moved back to Star City, but it was weird not seeing you on a regular basis.”

It took every ounce of self-control Oliver had to not just gape at Clark. Instead he raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“A lot happened at once,” Clark admitted, shrugging. “I became Superman, the League expanded rapidly, and all of a sudden, you were moving. Maybe you never intended to stay here permanently, but it had been so long at the point when you left that I got used to you being around.”

As he ate, Oliver contemplated Clark’s words. “Yeah, you were right that I never intended to stay as long as I did. Metropolis was always supposed to be your city, and once Superman arrived, it felt like the right time. Considering how many members we were starting to gain, we should all be spread out a little more. Metropolis did not need both of us, and Gotham is not that far away, if a situation required a team up. Even if Batman didn’t seem all that amenable to them in the beginning, I knew he would not have joined if he didn’t like the idea of a team.”

“I always thought he did so he could keep an eye on us at first, and then grew to like the idea of a team,” Clark pointed out, a wry smile on his face.

“You’re probably right,” Oliver acknowledged, pausing to take a sip of water.

“And that’s the third time!” Clark said gleefully. “Didn’t you say to not expect that it would happen again?”

Ollie shook his head and chuckled. “First of all I said ‘probably’, so it doesn’t totally count.”

“Semantics,” Clark interrupted, waving his free hand. “The words ‘you�� and ‘right’ were still used without any negative words in between. So I win.”

“Fine, fine. You do win. This time. Would you like a prize too?” Oliver joked.

“Are you offering one?” Clark asked, sliding closer.

Unable to resist, Oliver closed the remaining distance, and smiled invitingly. “Sure, what do you want?”

“What are you willing to give?” Clark wanted to know.

“I’m open to pretty much anything,” Oliver told him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if Clark could hear it, what he thought of Ollie’s reactions if he did.

Clark’s eyes drifted to Ollie’s lips, causing him to lick them unconsciously, before meeting his gaze once more. “You shouldn’t make those type of open ended offers. After all, you never know what could happen. Someone might take advantage.”

“I think I’m safe with you, boyscout,” Oliver said with a smirk, tilting his head slightly.

“Are you sure?” Clark challenged, laying a hand on Oliver’s waist, and sliding it to rest on the small of his back.

“I wouldn’t complain if I wasn’t,” Oliver retorted. He didn’t know what was happening, but Clark wasn’t a cruel person so Oliver knew he wouldn’t mess with him. There was a real possibility that everything he had ever wanted was in his reach and he was definitely not backing down now. “Never been afraid of a challenge. And you still haven’t stated your terms. Hope you’re not expecting me to read your mind.”

“What if I don’t just want to say what I want?” Clark asked, his other hand moving to Oliver’s back as well.

“Again, not psychic. So you plan to show me instead?” Oliver asked, letting his own hands slide up Clark’s arms, settling on his shoulders.

“Maybe, I’ve always preferred doing to talking,” Clark replied, leaning forward. He hesitated for a brief moment. “Oliver, if you want me to stop-”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Oliver interjected. “Because I am very capable of saying ‘no’ if I am-”

That was about all he was able to get out, before Clark captured his lips, silencing him completely. He responded immediately, losing himself in Clark’s embrace, as he wound his arms around Clark’s neck. Clark, in turn, tightened his grip on Oliver’s back, pressing their bodies flush together, as the kiss deepened further.

Time seemed to stop, as all Oliver could focus on was the pleasure Clark’s soft lips were bringing him. After just this one taste, he was immediately addicted, knowing that nothing else, no one else could or would ever compare. Eventually, and reluctantly, they both did separate, but didn’t let go. Oliver’s heart was racing and he had to take a few sharp breaths to get his thoughts in order to form words, but as soon as he looked into Clark’s eyes, darkened with lust, he lost them all over again, wanting nothing more than to pull him back into another kiss, and see where the night took them.

“So,” he said finally. “If that is the kind of prize you want, I may have make more bets with you in the future, and I might even be ok with losing.”

Clark was so close that he brushed his nose against Oliver’s. “I’m kind of hoping that it won’t take that for this to happen again.”

“I never imagined you wanted it to happen in the first place,” Oliver murmured, secretly wanting to pinch himself to make sure it was not all a dream. He had spent so much time convincing himself that this would never happen, and now that it was, it truly didn’t feel real. Suddenly remembering parts of their earlier conversation, his heart sank, and he started to pull away. “Clark, look, I know that we both talked about being lonely earlier, but you’re not just-”

Before he could even complete the thought, Clark’s lips were on his once more, holding him close. Oliver’s fears disappeared as he kissed him back, and as they parted once more, Clark rested his forehead against Ollie’s.

“I’m not doing this, because I’m lonely and you’re convenient,” Clark told him firmly. “I kissed you, because I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“I never knew,” Oliver said honestly. He had always considered himself to be observant, but he had somehow missed what was right in front of his face, while drowning in his own self-loathing.

“I thought you were dating Hal, so I never said anything,” Clark confessed. “Not that I had gotten any signs that you were interested, even before Hal entered the picture. Since I found out tonight that you were single after all and not interested in him, I’ve been waiting for my opportunity.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?” Oliver asked.

Clark nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, we got cut off, and I didn’t know how to bring it up again naturally. Also, we finally got the chance to reconnect, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.” He bit his lower lip and looked at Ollie hopefully. “So you do? Feel the same?”

“Of course I do,” Oliver assured him. “That’s the real reason it couldn’t be Hal, or anyone else. It’s been you for quite some time.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Clark wanted to know. “I mean, you stayed away for so long, that I didn’t even think you wanted to be around me, much less date me.” Ollie’s heart hurt at the ache in Clark’s voice and kicked himself mentally for any pain he had caused the other man while fighting his inner demons.

“I have missed you every single day we have been apart,” he said immediately, his words causing Clark’s eyes to widen. Oliver ducked his head, his cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden. “I believed the rumors about you and Bruce, like the rest of the League. If you weren’t together yet, maybe you were in the process of getting together, or there was at least some feelings there, and I couldn’t be around for that.”

“You did say that “we” thought Bruce and I made a good team,” Clark remembered, pursing his lips together. “In the moment, I wasn’t thinking that through or realized that meant you believed those rumors. Or cared.”

“I do care,” Oliver said. “A little too much, unfortunately. Superman had Batman, you had Bruce, and I felt like there wasn’t any room for me.” Pausing he added, ashamed, “Which was clearly incredibly shortsighted and selfish, because feelings aside, you seemed like you could’ve used another friend to talk to, and I wish I had been there sooner.”

“I was jealous of Hal anyway,” Clark sighed. “Otherwise I would have tried to go to Star City to see you. I was worried if I went there, he would be around all the time, and I would not get you to myself, in any capacity, and I just didn’t think you needed me. If you were happy, who was I to get in the way?”

Oliver cupped Clark’s face with his hands. “You make me happy, and I’ve always needed you.”

“I get that now,” Clark replied, smile growing. “If it wasn’t clear, I need you too. I always have, and I always will. The real truth is that I love you, Oliver. It may be too much too soon, but I’ve held it back too long to not say it now that I have-”

This time, Oliver cut Clark off and kissed him. Pulling away after a few moments, he grinned, feeling a weight being lifted off him at being able to finally, finally, express what was in his heart. “Good, because I love you too.”

“Well, that’s, well that’s good then,” Clark said breathlessly.

“Definitely good,” Oliver agreed, and without another word, pulled Clark into another kiss, which the other man clearly had no complaints about, with the way he instantly responded.

They could talk about everything else later. Clark was all his, and he was all Clark’s, and they had all the time in the world.

For now, this was good.

No, it was better than that.

It was perfect.

#clark x oliver #oliver x clark #sv!fic #smallville #clollie #smallville fanfic #svfic #clollie fanfic #clark kent #oliver queen

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