Performance Art
Clark's day job affords an unexpected opportunity to get closer to Bruce.
Clark fiddled nervously with his tie and resisted the urge to clear his throat. This had seemed like a marginally less-awful idea when he’d first gotten the assignment. Of course, that had been then, in Perry’s office, safely ensconced in the heart of Metropolis, with Lois backing him up.
Now, gliding through Gotham in the back of a limo with Bruce giving him a frankly appraising once-over, he found himself clutching his notebook like a shield and trying to remember the exact name of the Wayne Enterprises division suspected of malfeasance. Clark swallowed. An eidetic memory and the ability to read his notes through the pad’s cover were, at the moment, no match whatsoever for the cheshire grin on Bruce’s face.
The Rip in the Universe