Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Ollie Queen, The Joker, Hal/Steve
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. The wealthy freeman Bruce Wayne acquires a highly-prized pleasure slave whom has fallen in love with him…but can the Prince of Gotham ever return that love? And will it all be moot as a weak abolitionist movement slowly gathers strength while the Galactic Empire remains in a perpetual state of Cold War? The entire series can be found here.
Categories: Drama, AU
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Summary: Batman encounters a visitor in town while he’s distracted by thoughts of Clark.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): May 2, 2007
Date Of Posting: September 19, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own 'em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1355
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The archer stood,
Bold as brass,
Clear as glass.
Marion Zimmer Grayson
“Tales of Maid Marian”
EMERALD AND SILVER
Batman watched the crowds below, cape flowing out behind him in the wind. The nights were cold and crisp, just the way he liked them.
The Gotham Police Department was showing its colors by patrolling the streets in pairs on foot and horseback. The mayor had politely declined the offer of Government troops, publicly announcing his complete confidence in his Police Commissioner and his troops. Batman respected Jim Gordon immensely. He would do a fine job, but it never hurt to help.
A flash of green startled him, and a lithe, costumed figure alighted on the roof several feet away.
“Hello, Batman.” White teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Happy Halloween.”
Batman scowled, hiding his interest. He had seen pictures of Green Arrow, but in-the- flesh was always better.
And it’s nice flesh, too.
Green Arrow was similar in height and weight to him, powerful arms banded in green leather and hands gauntleted. The green leather boots, pants, and jerkin gave him a Robin Hood look, complete with jaunty cap. His eyes were hidden by the domino mask, white lenses keeping him enigmatic. Thick blond hair curled around his face, a goatee projecting a rakish look.
Green Arrow grinned. “Thanks.”
Batman could see that the bow’s wood was expensive. Green Arrow handled it with the ease of long practice.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was in town for the festivities and decided to do a little night work.”
Batman scowled again. “I don’t do the partner thing.”
“No?” Green Arrow sounded amused. “I’m not proposing marriage here, just want to help out.”
Batman cocked his head. “Why are you flying solo without the Canary?”
“She’s taking care of Star City.”
Batman turned back to surveying the crowd. It disturbed him that he had been taken by surprise.
Quit thinking about Clark and focus on business.
Green Arrow walked closer to the edge of the building. “Everything seems fine so far.” When the silence continued, he said, “Not very talkative, are you?” He grinned at the Bat’s stubborn silence. Turning around, he asked, “Are you going to stake out the street or patrol?”
“If you’d like to patrol, go ahead.”
Green Arrow laughed. “Okay, Bats. See you later.”
Batman watched as the Emerald Archer used his own version of a grappling hook to swing away.
Laughter and shouts echoed up from below as the revelers partied, costumes glittering with beads and sequins, feathers bobbing in the wind. The glitter of silver brought him back to Clark, his silvery Starchild all beautiful and gentle and sweet…
A scream snapped him back to the present. He saw the gaily-costumed figure carrying a purse run off the main street, dodging into an alley. Batman took off, swooping down to grab at the spangled sleeve and turned the thief around.
Green hair and a ghoulish grin greeted him.
“Happy Halloween, Batman!”
A swift move by the Joker amidst maniacal laughter and Batman staggered back, coughing as the dust numbed him. He feared the rictus of a Jokerish grin, but he was more disoriented than anything.
By the time he had recovered, the Joker was long gone.
& & & & & &
Rage pounded through his veins. He had been sloppy and because of that, the Joker had gotten away.
He had no illusion about the petty crime. The Clown Prince of Crime looked to keep his hand in on such basic things in between the grand supervillain schemes.
Batman searched the city but the Joker had gone to ground.
He would resurface again.
Maybe I should have let Green Arrow stay.
Disgusted, Batman returned home.
& & & & & &
Hal slipped into Steve’s room, his skin glistening from a shower. He was wearing his robe and slippers and nothing else. He winked at Steve, who was in his boxers, blond hair wet from his own shower as he set aside a pamphlet.
“Up for some company?”
Blue eyes sparkled as Steve laughed. “’Up’, huh?”
Hal laughed gently. He walked over to the bed. “What’s this?” He picked up the pamphlet. “The One-Day Abolitionist Conference in Metropolis?”
Steve looked a little embarrassed. “I picked it up on the way out of the museum.”
Hal flipped through the glossy pages. “You thinking of going?”
“I’ll probably be back in D.C. by then.”
Hal put the pamphlet on the nightstand. “Just be careful, Stevie. It’s not wise for a man in the military to show interest in this issue.”
“I know. ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’.” Steve grimaced.
“It’s a stupid policy, but it’s the one we’ve got.” Hal combed his fingers through waves of yellow silk, Steve relaxing under his touch and smiling. He leaned forward and they kissed, gently, then passionately, as robes were discarded and slippers kicked off, Steve laying back on the bed while Hal rained kisses on his face and caressed broad shoulders, happiness filling him as they made love…
& & & & & &
Still furious with himself, Bruce came upstairs, pausing as he saw his beautiful slave still curled up under the covers in a deep sleep.
Bruce quietly walked over to the window, crossing his arms as he gazed out over the moonlit ocean.
He’d been distracted tonight, and the Joker had gotten away. Clark had been the distraction. Did he deserve a reward for sloppy work? Losing focus was unacceptable.
Bruce turned. “Ah, so you’re awake, my ka’tare.”
Clark chuckled at the use of the Rigellian term. The very loose translation that could be applied was similar to ‘Prize’ in English, a term he preferred to ‘whore’! But either way, Bruce was showing him respect that filled him with pride. He moved his limbs, the chains rattling.
Damn! You’re not making this easy, Clark.
Bruce walked over to the bed, gripping one leg through the blankets. “Have you rested well?”
“Very well.” The husky voice amused Bruce.
Clark threw off the covers, glittering chains draped over his nude body, moonlight silvering metal and skin. There was something extremely sensuous about his slave curled up with the chains snaked around that perfect body. Bruce stroked Clark’s leg, slipping up to his thigh. He stroked the inner flesh, glad that no previous owner had branded him. He much preferred Clark unmarked.
Except by him, and not with a branding iron.
The pleading sent tingles along Bruce’s spine. He slipped his hand up to cup Clark’s cock, already showing signs of arousal. With his other hand he took off his slave’s dark glasses, heart leaping as he saw the sparkling eyes framed by the long lashes.
Still fully clothed, he climbed up on the bed, kneeling between Clark’s legs as his companion rolled onto his back and spread his legs. He gently pumped and stroked the beautiful cock, Clark’s face enraptured as he writhed and moaned. While one hand paid tribute to the burgeoning manhood, Bruce’s other hand tweaked and pinched Clark’s nipples. He nuzzled Clark’s ear, then spread his slave’s arms and locked the chains.
Clark’s helplessness under his touch fueled Bruce’s lust, his hand more insistent as he stroked Clark to climax, his slave arching up, smiling as pearly seed spilled over his hand. He cleaned his hand off with tissues, eyes glittering as he slowly undressed, tossing his clothes onto the floor. Clark’s tongue ran over his lips, his eyes following his Master’s every move.
Bruce locked the ankle chains but kept them loose enough to give Clark some freedom of movement while still restraining him. With deliberate care, he coated his cock with the cream from the bedside table, also preparing Clark, his fingers stroking and stretching as his slave moaned in pleasure.
He slid his cock into tight heat, reveling in the electricity sparking along his nerves, his blood singing as he crooned little nonsense words and Clark pleaded and moaned, the jangle of chains striking a chord in Bruce’s groin as he came, deep and hard and hot…