serendipity. [superbat]

discovery ii.

a/n: internet has been out and won't let me post or respond to people...so hopefully this works this time. sorry for any errors.

Clark's not sure what to say. He knows if he says too little, it'll only result in Lois wanting to know even more in even greater detail. Though, if he embellishes, making it seem as if he and Bruce were in this budding and blooming relationship, he'd never hear the end of it. Soon, she'd want to meet him and get a read on him, despite having already met him a couple of times.

"He wasn't dating you then. Was he?" He can practically hear her matter-of-fact tone as she crosses her arms and waits for an answer to her rhetorical question.

He distracts himself with getting dressed and grooming before bumbling into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Lois is propped up on the couch, waiting patiently, looking as if she has all of the time in the world for this. He's almost relieved to have the extra space to think while staring down at the boiling water, only to hear the click-clack of heels as Lois joins him. She leans against the opposite counter, arms folded, and waits patiently.

"Uh, I was supposed to be stepping away from work to clear my head," he starts and sees Lois' head slowly nod in the reflection of the varnished cabinets, "but he got sick."

"Sick?" she asks, brow furrowing. 

Her eyes drop down to the floor and he can feel his heart thudding in his chest despite the fact that he was sticking to the truth as closely as possible. He was afraid that she was going to open her mouth and say, "That's not what I heard".

"I heard from one of the writers at Wayne Industries that Wayne hadn't been in." she informs him, "I just thought he'd pop up in a newspaper or magazine somewhere...doing what he does."

There's a small stretch of silence where Clark can hear the quiet drop of one of the sinks dripping, the sounds of birds chirping outside, the quiet simmer and hum of the coffee machine.

Something about the sentence makes Clark freeze, hand still as it gripped the handle of the coffee pot. He should feel relief at having his story corroborated by some stranger, but instead he finds himself staring down at the cabinet. He's hovering above the two mugs, but the words take a hold of him and he can't quite shake them. 'Doing what he does?' What is that supposed to mean?

"What he does?" Clark doesn't mean for it to come out as irked as it sounds, but he doesn't bother correcting it either. 

"I mean, you two had just had a fight, Clark. Most people either stay indoors and cry about it or go and party and he just doesn't seem like the staying in type," she points out.

He has to admit, begrudgingly so, that she has a point. If he were an outsider looking in on just Bruce Wayne the billionaire, he'd probably come to the same conclusion. She hadn't seen the man in his element on two hours of sleep, trapped in a basement, hyperfocusing on some gadget he'd thought up while dangling from some roof in the heart of Gotham. 

He doesn't respond, hand finally moving to tilt the pot and fill each mug before handing one to Lois. He watches her lift it up, "World's Best Dad" glaring back at him as she drank. 

"So, what were you two up to?" she asks after lowering her mug.

He's back to being nervous, hands reaching for his own mug to keep his hands busy. What should he say? What does he omit? Lois isn't his mother, she's his bestfriend. He could tell her more, but how much is too much? On top of that, not all of this was his secret to tell. Bruce may not want her to even know that they've spoken let alone that they've done anything more. 

"Uh, I took care of him." He says with a shrug.

The truth, but not the entire truth. If left out the fact that Bruce had somehow accidentally injected himself with Clark's cells, formed a uterus, and mated himself to Clark...It just seemed like he was babysitting his sick boyfriend. Perfect.