Continuity: Smallville/Batman Begins
Genres: Fluff, a touch of Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Clark recuperates on Cape Cod and meets an interesting member of the Hyannisport Country Club.
Date Of Completion: October 21, 2009
Date Of Posting: November 5, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 659
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ Third Anniversary Fic Request Meme for jlvsclark. Pairing: SV Clark/Bruce. Prompt: First meeting on a neutral site (Cape Cod) with Clark recovering from a particularly draining battle while Bruce is faux socializing. :) She requested Smallville Clark, so Bruce can be either movie-or-comicsverse. I do describe his eyes as blue, but your choice as to what image is in your mind! :)
Sunlight shimmered on Hyannisport Bay, sailboats bobbing on the water. Chamber music drifted out from the Yacht Club, Clark closing his eyes as he rested in the lounge chair on the deck.
Tess had insisted that Clark come here to recover. He was designated as her guest and had nearly all the privileges of a full member. The editor of The Daily Planet and CEO of LuthorCorp rated a membership in this exclusive club in the Kennedys’ backyard.
He felt incredibly tired. Tess thought he was recovering from injuries suffered due to a collapsing building, which was true, but not the way she thought.
He’d been hurt, all right, because of Green Kryptonite that had been planted inside, a deliberate attempt to kill him.
They had almost succeeded.
For whatever reason, he was slow in healing. Chloe had suspected there had been something else mixed in with the Green K, causing the unusual slow recovery.
Whatever the reason, Clark was healing from a broken left arm, sprained left ankle, badly- bruised right hip, and severe bruising and cuts all over his body.
He appreciated the time to rest and get back to normal.
The bay was placid, the shoreline private, a mother and father watching their two daughters searching for seashells on the sand, a stone tower rising up next to an elaborate house right on the beach. Seagulls bobbed on the water, riding the waves instead of squawking and chasing after food, their usual behavior.
The doors to the deck opened, loud music spilling out, and drunken giggling assaulted his ears as a handsome, dark-haired man and two women draped over him staggered to the railing. The door was shut, cutting off the music.
The man was more than handsome; he was beautiful. Broad-shouldered, gorgeous blue eyes, and wearing impeccably-tailored clothes with the essay air of a man used to great wealth.
Clark felt sad for a long moment. Men born to wealth carried themselves a certain way. He thought of Lex, regret sharp in his heart, old memories piercingly-sweet.
“Go on, luvs.” The man gently pushed the two drunken women back toward the club, their jewels flashing in the soft autumn sunlight. Giggling, they stumbled back inside, leaving behind peaceful quiet.
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
The drawl was careless, but Clark heard genuine concern underlying it.
The other man leaned on the balustrade, gazing out at the bay.
Far off in the distance light streamed from the lighthouse, tiny lights from distant boats winking on the horizon. A cool breeze blew, warm for autumn but still with a slight chill.
The man’s profile was beautiful. Clark could appreciate beauty, especially of the spoiled rich variety.
This man…where had he seen him somewhere before?
“You aren’t too cold?”
Clark blinked. “Huh?”
The other man smiled slightly. “It’s getting a little chilly, and you’re a little under-the-weather?” He indicated the cast on Clark’s arm. Since his arm wasn’t fully-healed yet, he’d kept it on, gaining a new appreciation for human endurance.
“Oh, yes.” Clark was glad that he was wearing a baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves to hide his cuts and bruises. “It is a little chilly.” He leaned over and picked up the blanket at the foot of the lounge chair, trying to shake it out and put it over his legs.
The other man came over and helped him, draping it over Clark.
“Thank you, Mister…?”
“Wayne, Bruce Wayne.”
Clark’s eyes widened slightly. “Hello, Mr. Wayne.”
“Bruce, please.” A million-dollar smile flashed. Or should that be a billion-dollar smile? “And you are…?”
“Glad to meet you, Clark.” Bruce grasped his hand and they shook. “Mind if I stay awhile?”
“No, please do.”
Bruce pulled up another lounge chair and settled in, the two of them gazing out at the bay in comfortable silence.
The moon rose up, silvery light shimmering over the water.
Clark was feeling better. He smiled.
Apparently billionaires were good relaxants.