DC/Justice League Oneshots

After

A/N Written by @Bekkoni. Plot minorly changed.

Takes place immediately after Hereafter.

Clark tore the mission rotation schedule off the bulletin board and thrust it at Diana. "I don't appreciate this, Di."

"What?" she took the sheet from him, scanned over it.

Clark sighed, jabbed a finger at his name. "I've been back for four weeks and you keep putting me on maintenance or monitor duty! Or sending me off on some harebrained errand for the UN, as if you think I can't handle myself."

Diana looked utterly confused for a minute, then she just shook her head. "I'm not making the rotations this month."

"Then who is?" Clark asked, and took the paper back. "I'd like a word with them."

"Bruce."

"Of course," Clark muttered, and stormed off in the direction of the monitor bay.

                              ○●○

Bruce was perched on the chair, black-gloved fingers flying over the keys as he switched from screen to screen to screen, coordinating missions, running reconnaissance, and keeping an eye on Gotham.

Clark slapped the roster down over the keyboard. Batman glanced in his direction then ignored him as he concentrated on a flooding river in Mongolia. "Bruce. Explain this."

"It's a mission rotation," Bruce didn't deign him a look.

"I'm not an idiot. I was referring to the fact that you keep putting me off-duty," Clark hit a button on the keyboard that made the screen immediately in front go black. Batman scowled and turned to him, finally.

"Luck of the draw, Kent."

"Give me a break," Clark leaned against the monitor, blocking Bruce's access to the switch that would turn the screen back on. "You've never been one to play dice."

Bruce stood silently and waited for him to move. Clark sighed again. It was hopeless to get into a battle of wills with Batman; he knew, he'd tried. "We can play this your way: by not using my strength you're putting the teams at a tactical disadvantage."

"Another tactical disadvantage is loss of morale from the death of Superman," Bruce said, and tried to reach around Clark to the switch. Clark blocked him easily.

"I'm not planning on dying again anytime soon," Clark said.

The slits in Bruce's cowl narrowed. "Were you planningon it the first time? Because I would have like to have been informed."

"Technically, I didn't die."

"Fine. Were you planning on Toyman shooting you with destabilized gamma radiation and sending you millennia into the future?" Batman was edging on a snarl. Clark was treading the limits of how far to push him.

He tried a last time, "What will it take for you to put me back on missions that doesn't require me to hack into the system?"

Bruce paused before responding. "Stop saving me."

"What?" Clark asked.

"When Toyman shot you, you were deflecting the blast from me. Diana likely would have survived," Bruce stopped again, put on a more menacing tone and pulled his cape around him. "Learn some self-preservation."

"That's absurd-." Clark began, then grinned. "You actually missed me."

"I knew you weren't dead," Bruce said. "It was elementary."

"That's not what Alfred and Diana claim," Clark smiled.

"They're sugarcoating it for you," Bruce snapped.

Clark chose his next phrase carefully, "Don't you think it's pretty unfair to ask me to not save you when you'd save me? I'd be just as upset if you died."

Bruce lunged for the switch again. Clark let him have it this time. He waited until after the screen lit up to speak again.

"I promise I won't die on you, Bruce."

Bruce hammered at the keys. "You can't promise that."

"I'll try very hard then."

Clark watched Bruce sigh and open the rotation chart, "All right."

"Thank you," Clark said, but stayed where he was. Bruce looked at him, hand poised over the keys. "I'm waiting for you to change it—I do know you pretty well by now."

Bruce changed the file.

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