Chapter Text
It started, like most things, with a mission.
Clark had flown to Gotham to discuss a new lead he found on Lex Luthor. The man was moving heavy duty machinery across a few Metropolis warehouses, and he needed Batman’s help to track down its next movement into Bristol.
They had only been discussing several avenues of investigation before Batman cocked his head to the side, a soft tinny coming from his earpiece. It was a minute movement, imperceptible if Clark hadn’t been looking at him so intently. Which he found himself doing a lot lately. But isn’t that what a good investigative reporter should do?
“Copy.” Batman muttered, before swiveling towards the edge of the roof.
Robin, who had been gathering pebbles on the rampart and arranging them into a vaguely bat-like shape, sprung to his feet.
“What happened?” Clark asked, finding himself following Batman’s strides, pulled into his orbit like he couldn’t help it. “Can I help?”
He knew what the answer to that was. But you couldn’t blame a man for trying, especially if Clark’s pestering had graduated him from Batman’s customary growl of ‘ no metas in Gotham ’ to a begrudging grunt whenever he appeared in the city uninvited. Maybe there was always room for improvement.
“No.” Batman’s gaze was already on the streets below them.
Before Clark could pester him some more, Robin beat him to it.
“Why not?” He pouted, stamping a small foot in the ground. “It’s been ages since we fought with Superman!”
Another interrupting tinny in Batman and Robin’s earpieces. Clark, against his better judgement, zeroed in until the smooth susurration sharpened into words.
“ You could use his help, sir. The configuration of the safehouse is practically a maze. And they’re moving fast. You may not stop the bomb in time. ”
Batman’s mouth flattened to a grim line.
“Come on, B!” Robin jumped onto Clark’s back, hooking a skinny elbow around his neck. “He can see through the walls!”
“I could.” Clark agreed.
Batman shot him an accusatory look, like he knew he’d been eavesdropping, before muttering something under his breath. This time, Clark didn’t strain to hear.
“Fine.” He grumbled. “Just this once.”
And that was how Clark found himself in another one of Gotham’s grimy alleys, with Robin still draped over his shoulders like a secondary, squirmy cape, passing his eyes over a nondescript safehouse and prattling off the twists and turns to a nodding Batman.
“How many people?”
“Four.” Clark squinted at the figures in the building. “One’s staying behind to set up the bomb. Three making their way up.”
Batman nodded. “We need to move fast.”
“I'll deactivate it.” Clark said.
“No.”
“What?” He shot Batman an incredulous look. “But I can see through the walls—”
“You’ve already told me how to get there—”
“—I’m indestructible .” Clark interrupted. “What if the bomb goes off? It makes no sense for you to go!”
“There’s a computer in there. A cache I have to get to.”
“I can get it.”
“No, you can’t . Your loud entrance will scare them off before you can get to the computer.” Batman was already making for the fire escape. “I’m going.”
Clark hedged a step forward. “Batman—”
Batman whirled around, cape billowing around him in inky plumes. Robin stiffened against his back, digging his chin into Clark’s shoulder— he didn’t know if it was out of intimidation or amusement, probably both.
Clark caught the snarl of white teeth as Batman spoke.
“This is my city.” He growled. “Either you do as I say, or leave.”
There was nothing Clark could do but frown. Batman was always playing this card, only buoyed by the fact that Superman had no jurisdiction in Gotham. Not when up against Batman, anyway. He would expect Batman to extend the same courtesy if he was in Metropolis. And Clark hated to admit it, but he was powerless against the sure set of his shoulders, the challenging stance of his feet as though it was Clark he was about to fight. Powerless against the shot of thrill it sent through his spine.
Clark turned away sharply.
“ Fine .”
Batman’s lips pulled to accommodate a satisfied quirk, there and gone. He climbed the gaunt stairs of the fire escape, already checking for unlocked windows.
“Robin, you and Superman cover the exit on the roof.” He ordered. “I’ll dismantle the device before joining you.”
“But B, I wanna go with you!” Robin wiggled in protest, his foot digging into Clark’s ribs.
“It’s a one-person job,” he said tersely. “Go with Superman.”
“Come on, Robin.” Clark hopped on his heels, jostling him. “Kicking bad guys is more fun anyway.”
Robin never took much convincing when it came to Superman.
“Yeah!” He cheered, successfully swayed.
Batman shot him a disapproving look over his shoulder —as though it was Clark’s fault that his kid was out in Gotham in the middle of the night fighting crime— before he disappeared through an open window.
Clark flew them to the rooftop, the night air stirring welcomingly around them as Robin whooped at their ascent. He made sure to keep an eye on Batman’s route through the building, watching through permeable walls as he took the criminal down with practised ease. The bomb, which hadn’t even been planted yet, was no longer a cause for concern. A knot eased in his chest as Batman proceeded to work the computer.
It didn’t take long before he saw the outlines of the three crooks making their way to the rooftop exit.
“Here they come,” Clark called out to Robin, who spun into action just as the fire doors burst open.
It was clear that they hadn’t expected resistance. The shock of witnessing both Superman and Robin halt their tracks rendered them unmoving for a few fatal seconds, their guns still stowed in their back pockets. Robin kicked the firearms out of their fumbling grasps the moment they reached for them. Two dextrous swipes. Clark mitigated the last one with a strong wrench of his arm, knocking him out with a simple punch.
He was about to help Robin with the remaining crooks when he heard an indignant cry. One of the criminals was already out cold on the ground. The second one, perhaps fueled by panic and shame at the concept of being knocked out by a tween, lurched forward to plant a nasty right hook in Robin’s jaw.
Robin sidestepped to evade the blow, and Clark felt a burst of superspeed lighten his movements until he caught the crook’s collar in his grasp, but it was too late. The punch, thankfully, was not as devastating as it should be, but it caught the front of Robin’s mouth all the same. Clark yanked the crook back and threw him on the ground before he could do anymore damage. A swift punch, and the snarl on his unfortunate face died like a light.
When Clark turned to face Robin once more, the boy had a hand cradling his cheek. He flew to his side before he could even finish a breath.
“Oh my gosh!” Clark’s hands hovered over him in a panic. “Robin! Are you okay?”
Robin gasped, blood running down his chin. Clark’s heart stuttered for a moment, thinking the sound was wrenched from pain, but Robin simply pursed his lips and a small white ball popped out.
Not a ball. Clark squinted. A tooth .
“Thuperman!” Robin screeched gleefully, thrusting the tooth in the air. “Look! My tooth fell out!”
Clark paled. “ What ?!”
“I’m finally free!” He bounced around, hoisting the tooth up like a trophy.
Clark tried to school the bewildered look on his face with no luck. He tried to wrangle the boy, but Robin kept squirming.
“Gosh, Robin, stay still for a second.” He planted a hand on Robin’s shoulder with a little bit of strength, not enough to hurt, grabbing one corner of his cape and blotting the blood on the boy’s chin. “Does it hurt?”
Robin shot him a gap-toothed grin. “Nope!”
His neat row of pearly whites now sported a missing piece. One of his front teeth, Clark noted. He scanned Robin’s jaw with his x-ray vision, meticulously combing over images of bone and sinew to confirm there were no further injuries. No broken-off piece of tooth was left behind in the gums, either, which Clark was afraid of due to the force of the blow. The bleeding was already slowing.
Clark let out a relieved sigh.
“Don’t worry, Thuperman! It wa’th already wiggly.” Robin squirmed again in his grip, brandishing the tooth in the air. “It’th my lath baby tooth!”
Now that things have calmed down, Clark allowed himself to feel a surge of affection at Robin’s lisp, fumbling his name. The way the missing tooth made him look even younger than he already was. Baby . Oh gosh, he’s a baby .
Clark blanched. “Batman’s gonna kill me.”
As though on cue, the fire doors clanged open again, this time parting to allow a familiar, dark figure through the roof. Batman’s cowled eyes only took two seconds to assess their surroundings —the three men, knocked out but not tied up, the way Clark was still hovering anxiously over Robin, the faint traces of blood on the boy’s chin— before he planted both hands on his hips.
“What happened?” Batman demanded.
“I’m so sorry!” Clark blurted out in a rushed breath. “There was a crook and I wasn’t paying attention and he punched Robin in the mouth and now he’s missing a tooth—”
“B!” Robin pounced on his mentor. “B, look! My lath baby tooth!”
He was already launching on an animated tirade, detailing this blow and that kick with exaggerated onomatopoeia, thrusting the bloody tooth in Batman’s face. Batman, to his credit, didn’t even flinch, though his stance was still rigid.
“Are you hurt?” He said instead.
Robin shook his head. “No!”
“I checked.” Clark affirmed.
Clark saw his posture shift, relaxing at the assurance. He caught the slight swell of pride in Batman’s chest, how he stood a little straighter despite the long night they’ve had. The way the corners of his lips twitched before flattening back to apathy.
For a fleeting moment, Clark wondered what he looked like, under that cowl. What color his eyes were when met with that gleam of pride, whether they would crinkle when he smiled.
“That’s good.” Batman passed a hand over Robin’s hair. There and gone. “It’s been long overdue.”
Robin bounced on the balls of his feet. “Ith the tooth fairy gonna come again tonight?”
“Of course.” Batman answered readily.
Clark’s gaze whipped back to him, a grin swallowing up his face. No way .
“The tooth fairy?” He asked.
“Yes, Superman.” Batman said flatly. Clark didn’t need x-ray vision to know that he was raising a challenging brow. “The tooth fairy.”
Robin turned to Clark. “Didn’t the tooth fairy collect your teeth?”
Even with the domino, Clark could sense the wide eyed-innocence. Batman stared him down.
“Yes.” Clark sputtered at the threatening set of Batman’s mouth. “Yes, of course she did!”
This seemed to placate him.
“The tooth fairy ith the beth!” Robin cheered.
He launched into a wiggle, expending his excitement with shuffling feet. Clark couldn’t help but beam. Robin, despite his devotion as Batman’s sidekick, has always been childlike. He was the crack of lightning in the dark grumble of Batman’s storm. But catching crooks on the field hasn’t exactly opened up opportunities to discuss more juvenile topics. Like the tooth fairy .
“Out of curiosity,” Clark drawled. “What do you get when the tooth fairy collects your teeth?”
“Money.” Robin said, matter-of-fact like Clark was an idiot.
“How much?”
“A thouthand dollarth!” Robin answered easily. “Duh!”
Clark tried to keep his eyes from bulging out of its sockets.
“A… thousand dollars.” He shot Batman a look. “Gotham’s tooth fairy must be rich.”
Batman averted his eyes, suddenly taking more interest in Gotham’s murky night sky. Clark suppressed a laugh. It was one thing to know that Batman —callous, uptight, broody Batman— entertained and upheld his sidekick’s childlike beliefs, it was another thing to know that he downright spoiled him. It was endearing. It was—
Clark took a step back, as though rocked by an invisible force.
It wedged something warm and unwelcome in his chest.
“But you get more , right, Thuperman?” Robin interrupted his train of thought. “You have kryptonian teeth!”
Clark floundered for a moment, still reeling from whatever that feeling was.
“Uh, of course!” He affirmed. When he gave no follow-up, Robin blinked expectantly at him. “Um, two thousand dollars!”
“ Two !” Dick crowed, disbelieving.
Clark saw Batman frown, perhaps debating the merits of whether kryptonian teeth would indeed be worth more than a human’s. He wondered if tonight’s tooth fairy spoils would be doubled after all.
“Alright,” Batman grumbled eventually. “Our work here is done. Let’s head back.”
“Okay!” Robin said, for once not trying to stretch out the night as he padded towards the edge of the roof.
“Keep an eye out for the tooth fairy, Robin.” Clark called after him.
“You can’t do that.” Robin scrunched his nose, throwing Clark a look over his shoulder. “If you don’t thleep, the tooth fairy doethn’th come.”
Clark laughed, angling for abashed. “Of course. Silly me.”
“I’ll meet you at the batmobile.” Batman muttered.
Robin took that as the dismissal it was.
“Bye, Thuperman!” He chirped, before somersaulting off the roof.
Clark listened for the eventual zip of a grappling hook, the satisfying crunch of the catch, and the whoop of laughter as Robin swung away.
Then he turned to look at Batman, a teasing grin already worming its way back onto his face, but Batman was still adamantly staring at the corner of the roof that Robin once occupied. Clark allowed the silence to hang between them for a while, enjoying the familiarity of it, the stagnance that has grown less and less intimidating the more time they spent with each other.
It was nice that Batman would still spare a moment alone with Clark after each one of their impromptu meet-ups. Granted, sometimes Robin’s petulant whines of not wanting to be left out won over, and the boy wouldn’t return to the batmobile as instructed. But even then they caught a minute or two to themselves while Robin swung away. Short-lived as it was, when he would yell at Batman to hurry up.
But of course, after a while, Clark couldn’t help himself.
“Do you dress up in a tutu and fairy wings in case he catches you red-handed?” He teased.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Batman replied in his customary growl, but its gritty edge relented in the second half. “I’m stealthy enough not to wake him.”
Clark shook his head with a bubbling laugh.
“A thousand dollars?” He raised a brow. “Really?”
Batman shrugged. “Gotham’s tooth fairy has deep pockets.”
“I’m sure.” Clark swayed slightly, so that his shoulder brushed against kevlar. “You spoil him.”
Batman’s tone was full of innocence. “You mean the tooth fairy.”
“Right.” Clark beamed. “I assume Christmas is also a spectacle.”
“Both Santa and the tooth fairy have generous benefactors.”
“Uh huh.” Clark chuckled. Then, after a beat, “He’s lucky to have you.”
The air snapped back into silence. Clark could hear everything— from the soft crunch of gravel under his anxious feet, to the way Batman’s heart rate picked up its pace by two beats. Clark snuck a sideways glance at him, wondering if the thinning of Batman’s mouth was due to discomfort, denial, or something else entirely.
Had he said something to offend him? Was his tone too soft, too knowing? Referencing familiarity that wasn’t there? He wondered if he should take it back.
But before Clark could open his mouth, Batman scoffed.
“Don’t tell me that.” He jerked his head somewhere two blocks over, where the batmobile must be parked. “Tell him .”
Clark let out a laugh of relief.
“He knows.” His smile was lopsided and fond. “He’s a good kid.”
Batman stared at him for a moment, long enough for the smile to slip from Clark’s face, a look of worry taking over. Was there something on his face?
Batman cleared his throat, looking away. “How are things in Metropolis?”
Clark beamed, as he would any time Batman willingly brought up his stomping grounds.
“Same old, same old,” he shrugged.
Batman grunted in response. There was an air of hesitancy, his lips parting, then closing back up, before parting again. Clark frowned. That was strange. Batman was a lot of things, but rarely was he hesitant. Was he not feeling well tonight? Maybe Clark should do a cursory scan… He’d avoid the cowl, of course, but he was sure by now that it was lead-lined anyway.
At the thought of seeing Batman’s face, that familiar heat flared again.
“I saw your interview on the Planet ,” Batman finally spoke.
Clark ignored the way his heart skipped a beat. It was a piece he did on himself, about how Superman had mitigated an attack of Toyman’s explosive trucks downtown. It wasn’t a big deal, the ambush itself was small and uncoordinated. The story didn’t even make it on the front page, with Lois’ takedown piece of a local politician claiming the deserved spotlight.
He tucked his chin against his chest, hoping it covered up the blooming redness on his face. What was Batman doing, reading a Metropolis paper? Reading articles about Superman? Did it mean anything more than what it was? Was Batman looking out for him?
But then he reminded himself that Batman was the world’s greatest detective , and maybe it was his job to be on top of the news, no matter who or what they were about. Clark was just full of himself, reading between nonexistent lines.
He recovered from his lapse with a smile. “Yeah?”
“It’s reckless.” Batman shot back.
“Reckless? I don’t think I said too much.” Clark frowned. “Maybe the quotes are a little… dramatic , but people like it when they hear from Superman himself.”
Batman cast him an odd, sidelong look. He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he opted to shake his head.
“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.
Without any preamble, he whirled towards the edge of the roof, not sparing Clark a glance as he jumped into the Gotham night. The shadows swallowed him whole in a manner it did not with Robin. Where Clark could still see traces of the boy’s body as he swung, Batman was all but engulfed by the darkness. Swiftly and soundlessly, like embracing an old friend.
“Goodnight, Batman!” Clark called after him.
And he listened, once more, to that satisfying clunk , the whirr of a body catapulting midair.
As he turned to the skies, aiming for the distant Metropolis skyline, he picked up a faint rumble: Goodnight .