DC/Justice League Oneshots

War pt 1

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

"This is the last straw!"

Clark looked up from the reports he was filling out to see Bruce thunder into the room. He sighed. His long day was about to get a lot longer.

"First it was those stupid jokes! Then my costume! Then the cake!" Bruce was nearly red in the face. "And now this!"

"Wally, I take it?" Clark could guess just from Bruce's level of exasperation, though he had no idea what 'cake' was supposed to refer to.

"Look at what he did!" Bruce held his hands up.

Clark tried to figure out what he was supposed to be looking at. "He turned something of yours invisible?"

Bruce glared at him. "This is no time to be funny, Kent. This is a serious matter."

Clark squinted. Even with x-ray vision, Bruce looked to be the same to him. "I give up—what I am I supposed to be incensed by?"

"He shortened my belt on one side by three quarters of a centimeter," Bruce said. "Now it's asymmetrical."

Clark blinked, then erupted. "How can you even tell?"

"I have carefully calibrated the weight on both sides for even distribution," Bruce explained, in a tone that implied Clark was about four years old. "And anyway, if your belt was off by three quarters of a centimeter you'd be able to tell, too."

"Um, no, I don't think so," Clark said, and tried to go back to his report.

"It's a significant danger. Being unbalanced by a few grams can prove life or death in the event of having to stand on a filament of less than a fourth of an inch." As if to demonstrate this, Bruce yanked at his belt, trying to get both the snap in the back and the emblem in the front to lie dead center.

"Bruce, when will you ever need to balance on a rope that small?" Clark rubbed his eyes.

Bruce looked surprised at this, as if he wondered how anyone could have missed it. "It's part of a scenario involving white Martian cloning, radiation from the moon, and contaminated pastries."

Clark suddenly realized why Alfred drank so much tea. "What do you want?"

"Talk to Wally," Bruce said. "For some inane reason, he actually listens to you. Maybe it's a subconscious impulse to do the opposite of rational society."

"Well, I'd like to think rational society listens to me," Clark said, trying very hard to project an 'I have to work on this' vibe.

"It doesn't," Bruce informed him.

"I must be a masochist," Clark muttered. At Bruce's confused look, he continued, "There has to be some explanation for why I don't avoid your company."

"I certainly didn't start it," Bruce said. "You're the one who suggested the continued team-ups."

Clark wanted very much to be out of this conversation. "Look, Bruce, I'm busy. Just go change the cafeteria menu to some food Wally really hates and then you'll be even, okay?"

Bruce paused. "That's an excellent idea." He raced out of the room.

"That's what I'm here for," Clark said to himself, and wondered how many bottles of aspirin he'd have to take for it to affect him.

                                Ω~Ω

The next person to storm in was Diana, three hours later. She snatched the papers out of Clark's hands, and slammed her fist down on the keyboard to shut off the monitor.

"Please tell me why on earth you would throw gasoline on this particular fire."

"Excuse me?" Clark said.

"I've just been speaking with Wally," Diana was absolutely glaring at him. "Apparently Bruce broke into Wally's apartment, took every single item out of the pantry and hot-glued them to the ceiling in the three-story foyer."

"How is this my fault?" Clark asked, and tried to take the papers back from her. He failed.

"Bruce says it was your idea." Upon closer examination, Diana looked utterly exhausted, but Wally tended to do that.

"That's not what I said!" Clark protested. "Honestly, did he even listen to more than two words?"

"I'm not finished," Diana said. "After Wally finished scraping his groceries off the ceiling, he went to Wayne manor and rearranged all the furniture. Everything. All 200 rooms."

"Bruce went nuts, didn't he," Clark suddenly knew where this was heading. And if he was right, all hell was about to break loose.

"They've declared open hunting season on each other," Diana said.

Suddenly the intercom crackled. Batman's voice came on, sounding like he was barely containing murderous rage, "Attention all League members. If you see the Flash, he is to be forcibly brought to Lab 1 for execution ASAP, or there will be consequences. Also, all Playdough, red food coloring, and artificial mucus is to be destroyed. Immediately."

"This is how it begins," Diana said, and walked out. Clark got up too, and went to see if he could possibly forestall a nuclear disaster.

                               Ω~Ω

He found Wally first, by following the sounds of enraged howling.

"Look at this!" Wally yelled. "He's insane!" He pulled out his ring to display how Batman had apparently replaced all the costumes with Robin suits.

Clark sighed. "He chooses to have a sense of humor now?"

"It's not funny!" Wally looked like he was about to rip his hair out.

"Then apologize!" Clark shouted. "Just knock it off and we'll all end up happy."

"Absolutely not—I am not giving in!" Wally slammed his fist in his palm. "Bats is going down!"

to be continued...

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