Okay, so, I'm tired and bored and not
ready for bed yet. Side effect of staying up past DAWN all week, I
suppose. >_<
So. Feed my plot bunny?
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Richard, Bruce, and Clark walk into a bar...
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::dies:: Oh, my BRAIN.
I don't think Bruce shares well. As a side-note. |
I'm just saying,
it was a hard day crime-fighting at the Planet and Richard brings
poor bumbling Clark along to dinner with Bruce hoping that some
of the polish will rub off. Also, he can tell that Clark's turned
slightly orange from Jimmy's cake.
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Richard doesn't know what he got himself into. Now I know what the situation this icon is reacting to. Bruce is Not Pleased at Third Wheel, even if it IS Clark. (He is not the World's Greatest Detective for nothing, he SO knows who Clark Kent really is.) Poor Richard has no clue. |
Meantime, Clark is trying to subtly suss out of Bruce DOES know because he thinks Bruce knows but he's not sure and also he wants to know if Bruce knows that HE knows what Bruce knows. Y'know?
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I know. Bruce knows.
Richard is wondering why neither of them are reading their menus.
Clark is hiding and Bruce is glowering.
Bruce is trying to figure out if Clark is sleeping with Richard
and he doesn't like the idea One Bit.
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Clark has no idea how Richard knows Bruce
but is now a little afraid that Richard knows about Bruce's nocturnal
activities.
Which Richard does, just not the nocturnal activities that Clark
is thinking of. Also, the peppercorn steak looks good.
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::blinks:: Now *I* am wondering which nocturnal
activities they are thinking of. (Although, Richard knows.)
When the waitress shows up, Richard orders and
so do Bruce and Clark, although he has a suspicion that neither will
know what they ordered if he asks them in five minutes.
He declines the wine and orders a scotch.
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Clark is now positive that
Bruce knows that he knows that Bruce knows he's Superman which makes
him wonder if Richard knows what Bruce knows which makes the whole
Lois thing all the more complicated.
Wait... does Lois know?
Clark's head hurts.
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Bruce notices the way Clark's eye is starting to
twitch and resists the urge to smirk. When Clark also passes up
wine for something stronger, he frowns.
"So," he says conversationally after
they receive their drinks, "how long have you two been sleeping
together?"
There are times when he loves being the World's
Greatest Detective. Watching Superman spit vodka across a restaurant
is one of them.
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Clark has never felt this awkward. Not even the
first time his X-ray vision kicked in and he saw his mom's underwear.
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Richard sits very still, despite the fact that
vodka is dripping off his nose. Not exactly the way he'd planned
to spend his evening.
He is going to need another drink.
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<
Bruce notes that Richard
has moved to single malt whisky. This means that he guess is right
on target of, conversely, way off mark. He doubts the latter, however.
A completely disinterested third party would agree than Richard is
such hot shit that even aliens with undue obsessions to smart ass
reporters would be attracted to him.
Then he remembers that Richard is a smart ass reporter.
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Clark didn't say anything because Richard didn't
say anything, but now Bruce is scowling and really doesn't look
like Bruce anymore, but Batman and that? Is why he wishes he could
get drunk.
Instead, maybe he can get Bruce and Richard drunk
enough that they'll forget this entire evening. He raises a hand
to call the waitress over to order them another round.
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Richard reflects, as he
downs his third-- fourth? sixth?-- scotch on the rocks that he needed
to rewind the day to five minutes before he asked Clark to join him
and, instead, come down with West Nile Virus.
If Bruce/Batman punches poor Clark, Uncle Perry
would be in a rotten mood for the rest of the week and Lois is going
to give him the evil eye for hurting the Planet's mascot.
In other news, the candle on the table is dancing.
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Bruce eyes Richard warily. The other man is mumbling
into his glass and shaking his head back and forth. Clark is also
watching Richard, looking confused.
Bruce opens his mouth to say something, but Richard
abruptly slams his glass down on the table and wags a finger at
him. "You're jealous." Except it came out sounding something
like "sheloush."
"You never could hold your liquor," Bruce
says, shaking his head. "How long has this gone on? Does Lois
know?"
Richard giggles--he actually giggles, high-pitched
and breathless. "Lois? It was her idea!"
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Clark hasn't
been this lost since... Clark has never been this lost.
"What, uh, what is... I mean, Lois wouldn't...
can she... but..." Clark finds the ease in which he degenerates
into idiot-mode very disconcerting.
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Bruce's eyebrows almost shoot off his forehead
and that, at least, makes Clark feel a little better. He's not the
only one confused.
"You mean you haven't had sex yet?"
This is his chance, and he opens his mouth to stop
this whole ugly scene but Richard is drunk.
"No, no, I mean yes! We did!" Richard
reaches across the table to pat Bruce's arm. "Lois said we
should, oh!" He turned to Clark. "She thinks we all should,
actually that's a pretty good idea don't you think?"
Clark is going to throw every bottle of alcohol
in Richard's house into the river tonight.
"And Bruce!" Richard turns again to Bruce.
"You know, I haven't had sex with a man since that last time
with you, and you know? It's like riding a bike!"
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Bruce is keenly aware that
everyone within hearing distance is now politely but resolutely tuned
into this quaint little drama and while Bruce the Playboy would take
advantage of this situation, Batman is still distinctly pissed off
that he was mistaken. However, before he pursued a course of action,
he thinks it would be best to get as much clarity out of this conversation
as possible.
"Lois thinks that all three of us should sleep
together? Would she join in or just sit in the corner and work the
camera?"
Clark, he notes, has turned an interesting shade
of puce. The smoke coming out of his ears is also a nice touch.
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Richard giggles again, and lies his head down on
the table. "Nonononono, silly. Her, me and Clark! Not YOU.
She doesn't know you, that'd be crazy."
Crazy, Clark thinks, doesn't begin to cover it.
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<
Realising how seriously his plan backfired, Clark
puts his glass down on the table.
"I think I should get home and, erm, catch Letterman on
Tv before..."
Richard's words sink in and he finds he can't continue because
really, the image of Richard and Lois together over him momentarily
short circuits his brain.
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Bruce is not often at a loss for words; he doesn't
much enjoy it. And he's quite pissed off about how jealous he's
feeling, when really, there's no reason for it. Richard's been with
Lois for seven or eight years now, after all.
But Clark is staring and Bruce is tempted to say
something scathing about how he'll catch flies with his mouth open
like that, but instead he realizes that retreat is the best option
right now.
When he raises his hand to call for the bill, Richard
grabs his sleeve and says, "Ooh, can I have one with an umbrella?
A teeny-tiny paper one. Blue! I like blue."
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Clark catches a fly in his mouth but still can't
move because now all three of them-- Richard, Lois, and himself--
are wearing blue outfits in bed.
Only when he becomes aware that Bruce has slipped back into the
Batman scowl does he clack his mouth shut.
"I'll just have the check please."
And the remnants of my sanity he wants to add but doesn't. It
would just give Bruce more ammunition.
Richard leers. "Can't wait to get started, huh?"
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