Pairings/Characters: Cat Grant, Carla Evans, Lois Lane, Clark/Bruce, Steve Lombard, Perry White, Jimmy Olsen
Genres: Holiday, Humor
Summary: At The Daily Planet’s office Christmas party, the grapevine is buzzing about Clark’s date!
Date Of Completion: December 12, 2008
Date Of Posting: December 16, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1378
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for the World’s Finest Gift Exchange. Prompt F15: It’s the Daily Planet’s grapevine event of the year. The office Christmas party. The biggest piece of gossip is that shy Clark Kent is bringing someone! But he won’t tell anyone who it is. Clark turns up with the Gotham Prince AKA The Boss. Any continuity. Please include dancing on the tables and inappropriate use of a photocopier (Any rating).
One of the scenes in this story was inspired by a World’s Finest Gift Exchange art prompt: A17: Bruce kisses a shocked Clark under mistletoe in the center of the Daily Planet (Any rating): Under The Mistletoe drawn by the talented hitokaji. :)
“So who do you think our Shy Guy is bringing?”
“God, who knows? Probably some hayseed like him.”
“Now, darling, that isn’t nice.” Cat Grant pouted as she helped business reporter Carla Evans hang up a gold garland, the ceiling criss-crossed with gold and silver.
Carla bounced on her high heels, her platinum bob swinging as she shook her head. “Damn, it’s crooked.” Cat adjusted it. “Cat, who cares what Kent does or who he does it with?”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on him, Carla. He’s a good guy, sweet and gentle.”
“He’s a wimp.”
Lois gritted her teeth. She was decorating the tree and heard the conversation a few feet away from her. Turning around, she snapped, “You’re not very full of good cheer, are you, Carla?”
“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…”
Laughter mixed with the carols as the newsroom staff set up for the party. Carla smirked, regarding Lois with one hand on her hip.
“Says the woman who treats Cornpone Kent like her personal doormat.”
Lois’ eyes flashed. “Like hell! He’s my partner, not my whipping boy.”
“Ooh, now that’s an image.” Cat stepped down off the footstool and tossed her long, tawny hair back, gold hoop earrings swinging back and forth. “Clark’s got a good body underneath those schleppy suits.”
“Just because Clark says he’s bringing someone, you’ve got to tear the poor guy down?” Lois crossed her arms and glared at Carla.
“C’mon, Lane, anyone he’d bring has to be a loser.”
Lois scowled. “We’ll see.”
She stomped away. Damnit! Why did Earl the copy boy overhear Clark telling her about bringing a date? She certainly hoped that Clark’s date wouldn’t be hurt. She was probably some nice, shy girl who would be food for sharks like Carla.
Well, she’d look out for Clark and his date.
Clark hurried through the lobby with a sheaf of papers. He had to get this to accounting so that he could greet his date for the party and play escort up to the newsroom.
His nerves were shaky. Was this a good idea? Not only coming out but exposing his relationship with this particular man? Maybe he should discuss this more with…
Papers fell out of jittery fingers and Clark sighed, bending down to pick them up. He jammed them into a pile and stood up, surprised by warm lips on his.
“Looks like this mistletoe was good for something,” said a warm, rich voice.
Clark’s eyes were still wide as he stared at his lover. A few sheets of paper fell back to the floor…
Christmas music played as the tree glittered. People were already enjoying the food and drinks, the latter punch and soda, but someone was bound to spike the punch sooner or later.
The elevator dinged to a stop, Lois idly looking over to see who was arriving.
She nearly dropped her cup of punch.
Clark was walking off the elevator…with Bruce Wayne?
Other people noticed, but no one seemed surprised, and Lois realized they just thought that the boss was walking in with Clark.
Lois knew better.
She could see the soft expression behind the glasses, and the tender way that Clark was smiling.
Lois sighed. Leave it to Smallville to wear his heart on his sleeve.
She observed Bruce Wayne very closely. Was he just slumming, using Clark as some novelty who he could dump as soon as he got bored?
She saw the soft smile that played around his lips and was satisfied…for now.
“Hey, Kent, glad to see you showed.” Steve Lombard, sportscaster, ex-jock, and all-around jerk, was holding a cup and slapped Clark on the back, jarring his glasses.
Bruce was talking to Perry, his back to Clark. Clark pushed up his glasses. “Uh, hi, Steve.”
“Going stag, huh? Or is she late?” Steve leered as he drank from his cup. Lois wondered if the punch had already been spiked, or if it was Steve’s natural state of jerkdom.
“It’s okay, Clarkie. We all strike out now and again.”
“Yeah, Clarkie, you must be used to it.” Carla had sidled up next to Steve with a smirk. Steve snorted.
“Well, not exactly…”
“C’mon, Clarkie, just admit that you don’t have a girlfriend.” Steve drank his punch.
“Actually, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He has a boyfriend.”
Bruce had turned around and smiled his billion-dollar smile, sliding his arm around Clark’s waist.
Lois nearly burst out laughing at the stunned expressions of Steve and Carla.
Carla recovered first. “What?!”
“That’s right.” Bruce’s smile was positively predatory.
Clark’s smile was shy but proud.
Lois stepped up. “Congratulations.”
Bruce looked at her with approval, Clark’s smile growing brighter. “Thanks, Lois,” he said.
Other people began to be aware of the conversation, a buzz beginning to sweep around the newsroom.
“Clark is Bruce Wayne’s new squeeze?”
“What’s that country mouse got, anyway?”
“Is Wayne outta his mind?”
“I think they’re cute together.”
Lois slowly sipped her punch, the whispers reaching her ears. She hoped they didn’t reach Clark’s ears.
Bruce accepted a cup of punch from a smiling Jimmy, who handed one to Clark, too. The billionaire raised his cup. “Let’s get this party started!”
Cat’s green eyes were positively feline. “Let’s toast to your new relationship, Bruce.”
Bruce looked directly at her. “Yes, let’s.” Bruce smiled at Clark, who was blushing slightly at all the attention. “To the man I love.”
There were gasps and a smattering of applause. Cat whipped out a camera. “How about a kiss?”
“Ah, I’ll save that for the mistletoe. Let’s party!”
People eagerly followed that mandate. They certainly had a hot topic of conversation!
The party went into full swing, and Lois discovered that the punch had finally been spiked.
By the second hour of the party, Cat was dancing on a table in the conference room while Steve was using the photocopier…inappropriately.
Lois rolled her eyes. Amateurs. Couldn’t hold their liquor worth a damn.
She mingled for awhile, laughed and exclaimed over the Secret Santa gifts (she got a writing lap desk that was actually kinda cool), and ate some Christmas cookies and cranberry bread. She got another refill of punch.
She drifted through the newsroom, quickly bypassing some enthusiastic celebrating by pairs of partiers in various conference rooms. The desks in the newsroom were open, not cubicled, for which she was grateful on many levels today.
Lois paused by a big potted plant. She really should hit the punch bowl again.
The whisper was so soft that Lois almost missed it. She peered around the palm.
Bruce was passionately kissing Clark, his hands cupping Clark’s buttocks, Clark clutching the back of the Armani jacket.
Lois watched, always interested in two gorgeous men together, listening to the little moans and whispers. God, Smallville was so sappy in love, but cute, too.
“Have you seen the lovebirds?”
Lois jumped and whirled, seeing Cat standing right behind her.
“How would I have seen them? I’m too busy partying.”
Cat looked at Lois askance. “They’ve disappeared.” Her eyes lit up. “They must be goin’ at it hot ‘n’ heavy!”
“What, you think they’d go at it like rabbits at the company Christmas party?”
Cat smirked. “Isn’t that the tradition?”
Lois looked archly at her. “Weren’t you dancing on a table awhile ago?”
Cat waved her hand. “Youthful high spirits.” She tried to get around Lois. “What were you looking at?”
“Ella Moreau’s latest pair of Jimmy Choos.”
“Ha! Maybe another designer set of shoes: Gucci loafers!”
Cat dashed around Lois but was disappointed. “Damn! Empty!”
The space behind the palm was indeed empty. Lois smirked.
Cat tossed her hair and stalked off, still on the hunt.
Clark whispered, “Lois gave us time to scoot.”
From the darkness of the storage closet, an amused voice said, “Glad she’s on our side.”
“Most of the time.”
Bruce laughed and pulled Clark closer. “Maybe she’ll find a little extra on top of her Christmas bonus in her paycheck this year. And in the meantime, let’s continue the tradition of office Christmas party debauchery.”
Clark laughed just before he was soundly kissed.
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