Fic: Two Paths
Nov. 9th, 2008 07:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starsandseaTitle: Two Paths
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Harvey, Bruce, Clark, Pete Ross. Implied Clark/Bruce and hints of Harvey/Bruce
Word Count: 5930
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Lots of thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jij for all her help and encouragement, and for the beta. For arch_schatten! *glomps*
Harvey walked into the quiet coffee shop where he had arranged to meet Bruce. As always, his friend was reading a book, making careful notes in the margins, seemingly oblivious to everything and everyone else.
He sighed, shaking his slightly in bemusement, and went to the counter to get some coffee and a croissant. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pockets, before paying and taking the drink and pastry over to the table that Bruce had claimed. The small table was covered in books - a Russian dictionary, several notebooks, their pages covered with Bruce's scrawled handwriting. It was an odd irregularity in someone so organized and methodical. But when Bruce took notes it was almost as if he had so much he wanted to get down, he had to do it right now, before he thought of something else.
Managing to find a tiny spot to place his coffee and plate, Harvey took off his scarf and leather coat before sitting down. Bruce grunted a greeting to him, and Harvey knew that, though to all appearances he was totally absorbed in his book, he would be able to give you descriptions of everyone who had come into the coffee shop while he was there, right down to how much money they had and where they were going. It was freaky, and he often wondered what Bruce saw when he looked at him.
Quickly moving on from those thoughts, he took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his croissant, before grabbing Bruce's drink, and peering at it. "Hot chocolate?" Bruce only grunted again, turning a page. "Are you okay?" The book lowered enough for a brief glance of those dark blue eyes, like the sky before a storm, before they were hidden behind the book again. "You only drink hot chocolate if you're sick. Or missing Gotham."
Bruce sighed, lowering the book, and looking up a word in the Russian dictionary. "It's cold outside, Harvey."
"Still, you always drink coffee, Or tea. So, sick or homesick?" He took another bite of his croissant as Bruce found the word and made another note in the margin, reclaiming his chocolate and taking a sip of it. "Don't make me call Alfred..."
Bruce sighed again and glared at him, but put the book down, book marking his page. Harvey just looked at him. Bruce shifted slightly. "I don't know. Maybe both." He looked down. Admitting a weakness was always hard for him. That he only did so around a tiny handful of people only made it worse, since, unlike all the other people, those people meant so much to Bruce, their opinions mattered so much, that the thought of disappointing them was almost unbearable.
Harvey sighed softly. That he was one of those people was almost unfathomable. "Hey, it's okay to miss home, you know. I miss Gotham too. And if you're sick then you'll just have to put up with me looking after you."
Bruce's head raised, and a small smile touched his lips. "I'd say that's an incentive for me not to get ill..."
Harvey laughed. He was just as hopeless as Bruce when it came to illness, and trying to make edible food, for that matter. It was a good job Bruce had so much money, otherwise he would have run out of it ages ago, since his dinners and lunches and breakfasts were all bought. If he remembered to eat, that is. Really, it was a good job Alfred sent up a care package every week. His cookies were to die for.
He sniffed, pretending to be hurt. Bruce's lips quirked in a smile again, and while Harvey was taking a drink of his coffee, Bruce stole some of his croissant. "Hey!"
Bruce just smirked, and he felt his heart catch at the sight of it. He mock grumbled and Bruce leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully, looking out the window, watching the people walking past, while Harvey watched him. "We're going to Metropolis tomorrow, right?"
Bruce nodded slowly, a hint of a frown on his face.
"Hmm. Should be interesting." He finished his coffee slowly as Bruce people watched, his hot chocolate going cold.
*****
Harvey shuffled on his feet the next morning, his breath misting in the cold air. Beside him, Bruce wasn't moving at all. Harvey looked sidelong at him. He was dressed completely in designer clothing, all black, but his leather jacket was a deep chocolate brown. He had a bag slung over his shoulder that Harvey knew contained, among other things, several books and notebooks, as always, and possibly some of Alfred's cookies that he knew had arrived the night before. He had been at a lecture, so he hadn't had the chance to steal any. Yet.
There were other students in small groups near them, all of the girls, and some of the boys, had an eye on Bruce. It made him feel sick. He wondered how many had come here to study just for the chance of seeing Bruce Wayne. He moved slightly closer to Bruce, Bruce turning his head slightly to look at him in question.
"It's freezing! The coach had better turn up soon..." They had been picked, supposedly at random, to do a study on rich v poor. Or, rather, privileged and the not so privileged. They were to go to Metropolis, where they were to meet with other students, also supposedly picked at random, to contrast their different backgrounds. Harvey rolled his eyes. If they didn't freeze to death first, that is.
The coach finally arrived, just as one of the bolder girls was making her way over to them. Harvey quickly pulled Bruce with him, hoping to be one of the first on the coach so they could get a good seat. They made it on third, Harvey letting Bruce go ahead of him so he could pick their seats. He watched as Bruce glanced around, taking in where the emergency exists were, before choosing a seat a quarter of the way into the coach.
Bruce sat next to the window, and Harvey quickly sat next to him, before one of the girls who was pressing behind him could. Bruce gave him a grateful look; he just shrugged. One thing he had learned quickly about Bruce was that he didn't like crowds, was far happier on his own, just doing his own thing then around people. But those people who he did befriend... they had his loyalty for life. So, being trapped on his coach, the seats around them quickly filling up with giggling girls must be hell for him. If he could act as a barrier for Bruce, let him be alone, in a way, then he was more than willing to do so.
Bruce was taking his coat off, the heated coach making it unnecessary, his gloves and scarf too, balancing his bag on his knees. Harvey waited for him to be settled before removing his own coat, gloves and scarf. Bruce put his gloves and scarf carefully in his bag, Harvey doing the same with his, but far more carelessly.
The teachers were on the coach by then, getting everyone settled, before they were given the security and safety briefing. Then the two of them walked up and down the coach, one ticking their names off on a register, the other handing them brown envelopes with their names on. Harvey received his, but waited until Bruce got his before he opened it, derisive laughter and incredulous cries echoing around the coach.
He found several pages of stapled paper inside the envelope, the first page had a brief description and picture of the student he was going to be working with in Metropolis: Pete Ross. He looked over at Bruce. "Who'd you get?"
Bruce flipped thought the papers quickly, before returning to the first page. "Someone called Clark Kent. I think he lives on a farm."
"Huh. Mine's called 'Pete Ross'".
Bruce was scanning the second page now. "It says here that Kent and Ross are best friends. Grew up together."
"No idea why they gave them to us then." That got him one of those lightning fast smiles from Bruce, before he frowned. Before Harvey could ask what was wrong the coach started to move and one of the girls sitting opposite them was talking to him.
By the time he was able to free himself from the conversation, Bruce had put his papers back in the envelope and had his phone out. It bleeped and he made a satisfied sound, before putting it a coat pocket and pulling a music player from a different pocket, placing ear phones in his ears, preparing for the 2 hour long journey.
"Everything okay?" Harvey asked, surprised that he wasn't reading, getting more concerned as he hugged his bag to his chest before draping his heavy coat over himself, music player held loosely in one hand.
"Just tired."
Harvey nodded, eyeing him suspiciously, part of him knowing this was just Bruce's defense for situations like this, part of him remembering their conversation from the day before, Bruce admitting that he might be sick. He stuffed his papers back in the envelope, then shoved it into his bag, before he was pulled into one of the girls' conversations again.
It must have been half an hour later when he thought he heard a beeping noise coming from Bruce over the din of voices, and broke off his conversation to see Bruce peering at his phone. He raised an eyebrow.
"Alfred says 'Hello'."
"Tell him I said 'Hello' back. How is he?" He checked in with Alfred every other day, reassuring the faithful butler that Bruce was alright, was looking after himself. He wasn't sure if Bruce realized he did so.
"He's fine..." Bruce's voice trailed off and he frowned.
"What?"
"I asked him to do some searching about this 'Clark Kent'. There are several gaps where there shouldn't be..."
Harvey rolled his eyes. "Well, you can ask him all about these gaps when we meet him." Bruce nodded, but he was still frowning. He reached out and placed a hand on his forehead, obviously startling him. It was Harvey's turn to frown at the heat his hand encountered. "Hey, you are sick, aren't you?" Bruce batted his hand away and grimaced. "We'll get you something to make you feel better in Metropolis, okay?" Bruce sighed. "In the meantime-"
"If I'm going to be sick I'll aim for you."
Now it was Harvey's turn to grimace. "Thanks."
*****
Harvey was carefully looking at Bruce from behind the pages of the thick book on law he was supposedly reading. He hadn't turned a page in... he couldn't remember. He had just kept reading the same, very dry paragraph over and over.
If there had been doubt if Bruce was really sick, one glace at him now... He looked terribly young, like the boy whose tear streaked face had been splashed over every newspaper in the country. He wasn't asleep - his body was too tense, and besides, Bruce wouldn't let himself fall asleep here, surrounded by all these people who he didn't trust. It didn't matter how bad he was feeling, nothing was going to make that happen. Maybe he was meditating or... something.
Harvey sighed and made another attempt at reading. The coach was going slowly, stopping, then moving a little, then stopping again. Normal Metropolis traffic. Normal in any great city. Still, they were almost there. At least the noise level had fallen now, most people reading or listening to music or texting. The people who were talking were doing so quietly, though there were loud giggles from the girls sometimes.
Harvey's eyes went back to Bruce - he was looking out the window, watching the traffic and buildings, nibbling at one of Alfred's cookies. He hadn't had the chance to steal any yet, but he wasn't going to. Bruce was sick, after all. He sighed, and gave up on the book, putting it back in his bag, then checking his mobile. Nothing since the last time he'd checked. He closed his eyes and sat back, then yawned, the monotony of the travel making him sleepy. And it was getting really hot on the coach too, the heating still on full blast and the body heat... Well, he would be glad once they could get off.
He nearly found himself falling asleep, when one of the girls exclaimed at the first sighting of the Daily Planet building. Harvey rubbed his eyes as he sat up, seeing that, yes, they were much closer to finally being able to get off the coach. He looked at Bruce and saw a flash of those stunning eyes.
"How're you feeling?" He asked quietly. Bruce looked at him slowly, then licked his dry lips. "We're almost there." Harvey noted. Bruce nodded, looking out the window again. "We'll get you some medicine, then find somewhere quiet, okay? Then after we've done the interview thing we'll find a bookshop and stay there until it's time to meet up with everyone again, okay?"
Bruce looked at him again, a slight smile on his lips, and nodded. "Thanks Harvey."
Harvey smiled at him, resisting the urge to hug him. It was at times like these you were reminded of just how young Bruce was. Of how used he was to having someone looking after him.
The coach winded its way through the streets and traffic until it stopped for a final time, outside the Metropolis University campus.
*****
They were one of the first people off the coach; breathing in the cold, clean air was a welcome shock. The other students trickled off as Bruce and Harvey pulled on their coats and gloves, putting their scarfs about their necks. From his bag Bruce pulled a hat and put it on, hiding himself further. Of course, the paparazzi were a threat here, though Harvey hoped they wouldn't prove a problem today. Not with Bruce sick.
Finally everyone was off the coach and then they were following the teachers into one the buildings, through corridors and then into a room, full of a equal number of Metropolis students. They were chatting quietly, but fell silent as they walked in. Bruce managed to maneuver himself behind Harvey, scanning the room carefully.
Once everyone had entered, the teachers introduced themselves, then reiterated why they were here: to interview each other, rich v poor, yada yada. They were to meet back here at 3pm precisely. It was near 11am now, so that meant they had four hours. More than enough time.
They mingled - or rather, everyone else did, Harvey didn't move, and nor did Bruce. He glanced at Bruce to see that his eyes had settled on two students, a blonde haired one, eyeing the girls, and a dark haired boy with glasses, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"That's them. Kent and Ross." Bruce murmured.
Harvey raised a eyebrow in their direction. They boy with the glasses looked over at them suddenly, as if he had heard Bruce say his name. "Well, we'll get the interview done by 12, so that'll give us plenty of time to find a good bookshop."
People were trickling out of the room now, talking with their partners for the day. Kent and Ross started to move towards them. He saw Bruce tugging his hat down even further, hiding himself more. Harvey plastered a smile on his face and moved forward to shake his partner's hand.
*****
They had left the campus behind, Harvey and Bruce walking before Ross and Kent, who both looked rather... awe-inspired of them. Their eyes had widened when they had been introduced to Bruce, though Kent's brow had furrowed slightly, then a look of sympathy had come into his eyes.
Harvey wasn't sure what he felt about that, nor the worried and concerned looks he shot Bruce from time to time.
He stepped closer to Bruce, who looked at him, somewhat confused. Damn. He hoped he wasn't getting feverish. "Well, guys, it's your city. Where can we go to do this interview where we won't get bothered? Harvey had turned so he was walking backwards, raising a eyebrow at the other students.
"Um... there's a quiet coffee shop a few blocks away..." Kent offered, hand twitching to his glasses, fumbling with them.
Harvey had never seen anyone look so... dork-like before. "Sounds good. That okay with you two?" He asked, nodding at Ross, but looking at Bruce.
"That's fine. Yeah." Ross said, glancing at Kent. Bruce didn't seem to react, but Harvey knew him well enough to be able to see the agreement in his eyes. And the slight plea.
"Lead on, then." He gave a mock half bow to Ross and Kent, moving aside so they could lead them to the coffee shop, receiving odd looks from them both by his actions. They probably thought that this was how rich kids acted, as if they were still stuck in the middle ages or something.
He held back a snort. Bruce gave him a look; he just shrugged. No one said that they couldn't have fun, had they? Bruce sighed softly, and Harvey instantly felt any joviality leave him. They needed to find a drug store. He was debating if it was best to go to one now, or see if Bruce could hang on until they could ditch Ross and Kent, when they stopped suddenly, Bruce bringing up an arm to stop him from walking into them.
Kent turned to look at them - at Bruce, and Harvey felt something dark and rolling move in his stomach.
"You'll be able to get some medicine in there."
Harvey glanced at the shop they were standing outside, seeing that it was a drug store. He looked at Kent sharply, wondering how he had known. Bruce was hiding it well, only someone who knew him, really knew him, should be able to see that he was sick.
"Thank you," was all that Bruce said, his first spoken words to Kent and Ross - to Kent - dropping his arm from Harvey. Harvey blinked at him - he must be feeling truly awful if he was willing to admit his illness to these two complete strangers.
Bruce moved to go inside, and Harvey quickly followed him. Knowing Bruce he'd end up getting the wrong thing and only making himself even more ill. He was vaguely aware of Ross and Kent following him, but then Bruce was stumbling slightly, and Harvey rushed forward to catch him. "Are you-"
"I'm fine. Just tripped."
He stared at Bruce hard, seeing his unfocused eyes. Damn it, why did Bruce have to hide so much of what he was feeling? Why couldn't he just open up to him and just tell him how he was really feeling? There was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing, it wouldn't change anything if-
"Harvey." Bruce's voice was quiet, but he immediately let go of him. He obviously didn't want to cause a scene, and once the people around them realized that the only heir to the Wayne fortune was standing right here in their midst... Damn it.
"Will you at least tell me if it's bad enough to go to hospital?" He scowled.
Bruce was glaring at him, but that was okay, he was used to Bruce's glares. "I'm fine, Harvey. I'll be even better when he actually get somewhere quiet."
Harvey nodded, considered briefly sending Bruce ahead with Kent or Ross, then decided against it, not trusting them. "Okay," he nodded, seeing the look in Bruce's eyes. He'd never win when Bruce was in this kind of mood. Beside them Ross and Kent were shifting from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. "Okay."
*****
Medicine bought and taken with a grimace, they were once more on their way to the coffee shop. None of then talked, Ross and Kent seeming to have nothing to say, Harvey too worried about Bruce to start any conversation. The crowds thinned, there were only one or two people around now, and Harvey could practically see the waves of relief rolling off Bruce. He was relieved himself, the less people around, the less likely that any paparazzi were lurking.
They arrived at a small cafe, some scattered tables outside, no one sitting at them. Harvey and Bruce followed Ross and Kent inside; the cafe was warm, a radio was playing quietly, only one or two people were sitting at the rough wooden tables. Perfect.
There was a awkward pause for a moment, then Ross spoke. "So, where shall we sit?"
Harvey glanced at the tables, before Bruce moved, and seemingly picked one at random, though it was probably the most strategic or defensible or whatever, table in the place. Or, Harvey thought with a eyebrow raising, as Bruce sat down with his back to the door, he just really wanted to sit down.
Harvey pulled a chair over and put his bag on it, Ross and Kent doing the same. The chairs were odd and mismatched, but they seemed to work, somehow. Harvey put a hand on Bruce's shoulder - he was taking his gloves off, but looked up at and nodded. Opposite Bruce, Kent was sitting down, after nearly tripping over his chair, and seemingly having a titanic struggle in removing his coat.
Harvey felt for his wallet, then moved over to the counter, Ross following him. They ordered drinks and sandwiches, Harvey getting a pastry for Bruce - the girl behind the counter seemed to know Ross and Kent, he guessed they were regulars here.
"I'm sorry your friend's ill."
Harvey looked back at their table - Bruce had taken his coat and scarf off, but kept his hat on. He was pulling the envelope of information from his bag; Kent's rather rumpled copy already on the table, though he was apparently now struggling to find something to write with. "He'll be better soon. It's just a cold." Yes, it might be, but that wouldn't stop him from worrying any less about it.
They collected their drinks and Bruce's pastry, their sandwiches promised soon, then walked back to the table. Bruce had his phone out, he seemed to be texting someone. Harvey placed the hot chocolate and pastry in front of him, figuring that Bruce's stomach wasn't up for much. Besides, they could always get something else later.
"Texting Alfred?" He questioned, placing his coffee at his place. Bruce nodded, concentrating on his phone.
"Who's Alfred?" Ross asked, sitting down.
"He's my... guardian." Bruce said, after a moment's pause. "He wanted to know we got here okay," he added, then put the phone away.
Kent was smiling. "My Ma and Pa are like that too." His eyes were warm as they looked at Bruce, and Harvey felt the black... thing inside him move again.
He draped his coat over the back of his chair, then sat down. Bruce sipped his chocolate. "Thanks Harvey," he murmured, a brief smile flittering across his face.
He felt the dark thing's hold lessen at the sight of it. "S'oaky."
Ross and Kent were taking sips from their drinks too. "So, you're, um..." Ross was looking at Bruce, rather stunned.
Bruce nodded, slowly, warily. "We, ah, try not to use his name too much. In case someone might overhear..." Harvey said, looking at them meaningfully. Ross and Kent nodded, seeming to understand the gravity of the situation.
"So, um, what should we call you, then?" Kent's voice was quiet, mild, still looking at Bruce in concern.
Bruce smiled wryly. "Bruce is fine."
Kent smiled then, almost bashfully, a hint of color touching his cheeks. "Okay, Bruce. I'm Clark." Bruce nodded at him slightly in acknowledgment.
"I'm Pete."
"And I'm Harvey." Their somewhat less informal introductions over, Harvey started to dig around his bag from the interview sheets, Bruce pulling his out from the envelope, smoothing them carefully, while Kent went back to searching for a pen.
*****
"So, you live on a farm?" Bruce's quiet question broke the semi-silence.
Kent smiled, his eyes going distant. "Yeah... I've lived there all my life, with my Ma and Pa..."
"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" Bruce was being unusually talkative. For him, Harvey thought, raising an eyebrow at him slightly, which Bruce ignored. But maybe he was just trying to distract himself from how terrible he was feeling. Or he really wanted to get the interview over as soon as possible. Sometimes, you could never tell with Bruce. Unless you were Alfred. But Alfred knew everything. Harvey was sure of that.
"Well, I..." Kent shifted slightly, then exchanged a brief look with Ross. Harvey almost thought that Ross' look was a warning. "I, um... Not a lot of people know this, but I was adopted. I... never knew my birth parents, so..."
Bruce nodded slowly beside him. Harvey frowned a little to himself. He didn't trust these two guys, not yet, and he knew that Kent was pushing Bruce's buttons just right, mentioning parents and orphans and... "You've never tried to find your birth parents?"
There was a flash of pain in Kent's eyes then, too intense to be faked. Ross glared at him. Harvey just looked back.
"I... No." There was finality in Kent's tone, a steel he hadn't expected under the surface.
There was uncomfortable silence again. Bruce started nibbling his pastry. "Uh... What's Gotham like?" Ross was still slightly angry, no doubt at his upsetting Kent, but it made Harvey feel better. Wouldn't he act the exact same way if someone started prying Bruce on his parents?
"Gotham is..." He found himself smiling. "You really have to be a Gothamite to understand. But it's big and dirty and needs clearing up, and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."
Beside him Bruce was smiling, a true smile, the smile he had whenever he thought about Gotham. "She needs someone to... be there for her. To help her. Yes, she may be dirty and full of criminals and it may seem like there's no hope... But there is. There are good people there. People with so much hope. Who know that they can make a difference. People who want her to be able to hold her head high again." Bruce sighed, sounding for all the world like a man desperately in love. "She's beautiful."
Ross was eyeing Bruce like he was crazy - not many people viewed cities as living beings, after all. But Gotham wasn't just any city. It was... Gotham.
Kent was looking at Bruce in surprise, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time, for the first time realizing that maybe he wasn't alone. "And are you one of those people, Bruce?" His question was quiet, but charged, almost as if he desperately wanted to know the answer, but at the same time desperately didn't, held between the two, tortured.
Bruce smiled slowly, nodding thoughtfully. "I certainly hope so."
Kent's smile was blinding in its intensity then, in its relief and hope.
"She?" Ross' voice was incredulous, clearly starting Bruce and Kent, who had been staring into each others' eyes, as if stunned by what they had both found.
Harvey felt strangely relieved at Ross' loud question, the dark thing within him had been rising again... He smiled now, as best as he could. "Gotham is different from every other city. You can't spend any true amount of time there and not realize that."
Ross was looking bemused, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But then the girl from the counter arrived with their freshly made sandwiches, and the conversation halted for the time being.
*****
"So, what's it like to live in a mansion?" Ross had gone back to looking at Bruce in awe. Harvey could practically feel Bruce's uncomfort rolling off him.
"Well, it's..." He sighed, then smiled wryly. "I've lived in my home all my life. That it's a mansion doesn't really mean anything to me. It's just my home." Bruce was smiling distantly, no doubt thinking of Wayne Manor.
Ross looked skeptical and Harvey felt a sudden flash of annoyance - what, just because Bruce's home was a mansion that meant it wasn't a home like whatever house Ross lived in? Grew up in? But Kent just made a note on his papers, a small, happy smile on his face.
Bruce was being unusually talkative, opening up in ways he never normally did, and it made Harvey... annoyed that Ross couldn't see that for what it was, couldn't tell how precious it was. Kent, at least, seemed to understand that, that every word Bruce uttered was precious, had to be stored away somewhere safe, to protect it from harm. Fragile wasn't a word to describe Bruce - indeed, he would deeply resent it if it was applied to him - but it was so true in so many ways, so many different ways... But Bruce was talking now, and Harvey quickly halted his thoughts so he could listen.
He was asking Ross and Kent a question for a change. "What do you want to do after you graduate?" He took a sip of his chocolate - his throat was probably getting really sore now.
Ross looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I think I want to travel. See things and people. Then, maybe..." He paused, obviously thinking deeply. "I think I want to get involved in politics."
Harvey dutifully noted it down, seeing Kent smiling again. "I know you'd make a great politician, Pete."
Ross seemed to glow at Kent's words, like it was some form of a massive stamp of approval.
"And you?" Bruce prompted Kent.
He looked lost in thought for a while, choosing his words carefully. "I want to help people. I know that. I know that I can do that. And I want to be a journalist, write about things that wouldn't normally be written about. Write things so that people know the truth, not what people are bribed to say."
Harvey raised a eyebrow, but he could see Bruce's small, almost satisfied smile, like Kent had just passed some kind of test.
"You might upset a lot of powerful people if you do that..." Harvey warned.
Kent shrugged again, glancing at him, before looking back at Bruce. "If that's what's going to happen, then let them get upset. I'm not going to let them scare me into submission, like everyone else."
Harvey raised his other eyebrow, so they were twinned now. Either this guy was stupid or crazy. Yet... yet, he seemed to honestly believe what he was saying.
"I want to change things. Make them better. Make the world a better place."
Ross was smiling, like he knew a secret then. "I know you will, Clark." Kent blushed then, red flushing all over his face, one hand coming up to fiddle with his glasses. Bruce was noting down what he had said with a thoughtful look on his face.
"What about you two? What do you wanna do?" Ross asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Bruce seemed pensive, so Harvey answered first.
"I'm going to be a lawyer. Then I'm going to be DA for Gotham. Start to finally tidy things up."
It was Ross' turn to look skeptical. "You seem so sure you'll be DA..."
Harvey looked at him. "I know I will be. It's what's meant to happen." Ross exchanged a look with Kent. Bruce was silent. Harvey didn't need him to tell him that he believed him, knew he could do it. He had already told him, after all. Ross noted it down regardless.
"And you, Bruce? What do you want to do?" Kent looked shy and hopeful. Harvey was almost ready to swear that he had a crush on Bruce.
Bruce was silent for a while, clearly gathering his thoughts. "I'm expected to become CEO of Wayne Enterprises, of course. And I will, even if I'm only a figurehead. But I want to do... good. Charity work. Try to find ways to help people. To fight for the people who can't fight for themselves. To make Gotham a better place, a safer place. To try and make sure... no one is ever hurt again."
There was silence for a while after Bruce's quiet words. They all could tell he meant what he was saying with all his soul. And that he was baring a lot of it. Ross and Kent had better realize how precious that was, Harvey thought with a sudden flash of anger and protectiveness, perhaps spurred on by the emotions he could plainly see on Kent's face. He looked like he had just fallen in love.
"I know you'll do that, Bruce. I know it." His voice seemed deeper than normal, more... resonant.
Harvey was amazed to see color touch Bruce's face. "Thank you," he murmured. Kent smiled softly. Beside him, Ross looked slightly troubled.
*****
They ended up not going to the bookshop after all. Bruce seemed happy just staying in the coffee shop, sitting down, resting, away from crowds of people. He must have still been feeling horrible, colds didn't just disappear like that, and Harvey would have worried that he might have gotten dizzy again, anyway.
So they stayed where they were, drinking coffee and hot chocolate, eating the odd pastry - Bruce even relaxed enough that he let Kent and Ross have one of Alfred's cookies each, and the wide-eyed look on their faces as they tasted them made them both smile. Bruce phoned Alfred to get the recipe for Kent's mother and they all relaxed around each other, talking less and less about the interview, and just as friends.
But it didn't escape Harvey's notice that Bruce and Kent spent most of their time talking to each other - if Ross' raised eyebrows were any indication then he wasn't entirely happy about that either.
They were all surprised when they had to leave so Bruce and Harvey could get the coach back and they swapped e-mail address so, if they later found they had missed a question or needed to know more, they could contact each other.
This time, walking back to the campus, it was Kent walking beside Bruce, not Harvey, and when they got separated by the crowds of afternoon shoppers for a moment, then found each other again, they were both flushing, a heat that couldn't exactly be attributed to Bruce's cold, or to Kent's shyness.
They paused before the coach, knots of other students around, and Harvey could feel the dark thing in his chest rising, threatening to overwhelm him as they said goodbye, along with promises of how, if Kent or Ross were ever to visit Gotham they should let them know so they could show them the true city. Because he could see the way Bruce and Kent were looking at each other.
And then later, when Bruce and Harvey were on the coach, winding through the mid-afternoon traffic, Harvey watching Bruce stare unseeing out the window, fingers touching his lips now and then, a tiny smile on his face...
Harvey knew that he had lost the battle before it had even fully begun. Because he had seen the way Bruce had looked at Kent, the way he had never looked at anyone or anything besides Gotham before... And he knew that Clark Kent had captured Bruce's heart.
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Harvey, Bruce, Clark, Pete Ross. Implied Clark/Bruce and hints of Harvey/Bruce
Word Count: 5930
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Lots of thanks to
jij for all her help and encouragement, and for the beta. For arch_schatten! *glomps*Harvey walked into the quiet coffee shop where he had arranged to meet Bruce. As always, his friend was reading a book, making careful notes in the margins, seemingly oblivious to everything and everyone else.
He sighed, shaking his slightly in bemusement, and went to the counter to get some coffee and a croissant. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pockets, before paying and taking the drink and pastry over to the table that Bruce had claimed. The small table was covered in books - a Russian dictionary, several notebooks, their pages covered with Bruce's scrawled handwriting. It was an odd irregularity in someone so organized and methodical. But when Bruce took notes it was almost as if he had so much he wanted to get down, he had to do it right now, before he thought of something else.
Managing to find a tiny spot to place his coffee and plate, Harvey took off his scarf and leather coat before sitting down. Bruce grunted a greeting to him, and Harvey knew that, though to all appearances he was totally absorbed in his book, he would be able to give you descriptions of everyone who had come into the coffee shop while he was there, right down to how much money they had and where they were going. It was freaky, and he often wondered what Bruce saw when he looked at him.
Quickly moving on from those thoughts, he took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his croissant, before grabbing Bruce's drink, and peering at it. "Hot chocolate?" Bruce only grunted again, turning a page. "Are you okay?" The book lowered enough for a brief glance of those dark blue eyes, like the sky before a storm, before they were hidden behind the book again. "You only drink hot chocolate if you're sick. Or missing Gotham."
Bruce sighed, lowering the book, and looking up a word in the Russian dictionary. "It's cold outside, Harvey."
"Still, you always drink coffee, Or tea. So, sick or homesick?" He took another bite of his croissant as Bruce found the word and made another note in the margin, reclaiming his chocolate and taking a sip of it. "Don't make me call Alfred..."
Bruce sighed again and glared at him, but put the book down, book marking his page. Harvey just looked at him. Bruce shifted slightly. "I don't know. Maybe both." He looked down. Admitting a weakness was always hard for him. That he only did so around a tiny handful of people only made it worse, since, unlike all the other people, those people meant so much to Bruce, their opinions mattered so much, that the thought of disappointing them was almost unbearable.
Harvey sighed softly. That he was one of those people was almost unfathomable. "Hey, it's okay to miss home, you know. I miss Gotham too. And if you're sick then you'll just have to put up with me looking after you."
Bruce's head raised, and a small smile touched his lips. "I'd say that's an incentive for me not to get ill..."
Harvey laughed. He was just as hopeless as Bruce when it came to illness, and trying to make edible food, for that matter. It was a good job Bruce had so much money, otherwise he would have run out of it ages ago, since his dinners and lunches and breakfasts were all bought. If he remembered to eat, that is. Really, it was a good job Alfred sent up a care package every week. His cookies were to die for.
He sniffed, pretending to be hurt. Bruce's lips quirked in a smile again, and while Harvey was taking a drink of his coffee, Bruce stole some of his croissant. "Hey!"
Bruce just smirked, and he felt his heart catch at the sight of it. He mock grumbled and Bruce leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully, looking out the window, watching the people walking past, while Harvey watched him. "We're going to Metropolis tomorrow, right?"
Bruce nodded slowly, a hint of a frown on his face.
"Hmm. Should be interesting." He finished his coffee slowly as Bruce people watched, his hot chocolate going cold.
*****
Harvey shuffled on his feet the next morning, his breath misting in the cold air. Beside him, Bruce wasn't moving at all. Harvey looked sidelong at him. He was dressed completely in designer clothing, all black, but his leather jacket was a deep chocolate brown. He had a bag slung over his shoulder that Harvey knew contained, among other things, several books and notebooks, as always, and possibly some of Alfred's cookies that he knew had arrived the night before. He had been at a lecture, so he hadn't had the chance to steal any. Yet.
There were other students in small groups near them, all of the girls, and some of the boys, had an eye on Bruce. It made him feel sick. He wondered how many had come here to study just for the chance of seeing Bruce Wayne. He moved slightly closer to Bruce, Bruce turning his head slightly to look at him in question.
"It's freezing! The coach had better turn up soon..." They had been picked, supposedly at random, to do a study on rich v poor. Or, rather, privileged and the not so privileged. They were to go to Metropolis, where they were to meet with other students, also supposedly picked at random, to contrast their different backgrounds. Harvey rolled his eyes. If they didn't freeze to death first, that is.
The coach finally arrived, just as one of the bolder girls was making her way over to them. Harvey quickly pulled Bruce with him, hoping to be one of the first on the coach so they could get a good seat. They made it on third, Harvey letting Bruce go ahead of him so he could pick their seats. He watched as Bruce glanced around, taking in where the emergency exists were, before choosing a seat a quarter of the way into the coach.
Bruce sat next to the window, and Harvey quickly sat next to him, before one of the girls who was pressing behind him could. Bruce gave him a grateful look; he just shrugged. One thing he had learned quickly about Bruce was that he didn't like crowds, was far happier on his own, just doing his own thing then around people. But those people who he did befriend... they had his loyalty for life. So, being trapped on his coach, the seats around them quickly filling up with giggling girls must be hell for him. If he could act as a barrier for Bruce, let him be alone, in a way, then he was more than willing to do so.
Bruce was taking his coat off, the heated coach making it unnecessary, his gloves and scarf too, balancing his bag on his knees. Harvey waited for him to be settled before removing his own coat, gloves and scarf. Bruce put his gloves and scarf carefully in his bag, Harvey doing the same with his, but far more carelessly.
The teachers were on the coach by then, getting everyone settled, before they were given the security and safety briefing. Then the two of them walked up and down the coach, one ticking their names off on a register, the other handing them brown envelopes with their names on. Harvey received his, but waited until Bruce got his before he opened it, derisive laughter and incredulous cries echoing around the coach.
He found several pages of stapled paper inside the envelope, the first page had a brief description and picture of the student he was going to be working with in Metropolis: Pete Ross. He looked over at Bruce. "Who'd you get?"
Bruce flipped thought the papers quickly, before returning to the first page. "Someone called Clark Kent. I think he lives on a farm."
"Huh. Mine's called 'Pete Ross'".
Bruce was scanning the second page now. "It says here that Kent and Ross are best friends. Grew up together."
"No idea why they gave them to us then." That got him one of those lightning fast smiles from Bruce, before he frowned. Before Harvey could ask what was wrong the coach started to move and one of the girls sitting opposite them was talking to him.
By the time he was able to free himself from the conversation, Bruce had put his papers back in the envelope and had his phone out. It bleeped and he made a satisfied sound, before putting it a coat pocket and pulling a music player from a different pocket, placing ear phones in his ears, preparing for the 2 hour long journey.
"Everything okay?" Harvey asked, surprised that he wasn't reading, getting more concerned as he hugged his bag to his chest before draping his heavy coat over himself, music player held loosely in one hand.
"Just tired."
Harvey nodded, eyeing him suspiciously, part of him knowing this was just Bruce's defense for situations like this, part of him remembering their conversation from the day before, Bruce admitting that he might be sick. He stuffed his papers back in the envelope, then shoved it into his bag, before he was pulled into one of the girls' conversations again.
It must have been half an hour later when he thought he heard a beeping noise coming from Bruce over the din of voices, and broke off his conversation to see Bruce peering at his phone. He raised an eyebrow.
"Alfred says 'Hello'."
"Tell him I said 'Hello' back. How is he?" He checked in with Alfred every other day, reassuring the faithful butler that Bruce was alright, was looking after himself. He wasn't sure if Bruce realized he did so.
"He's fine..." Bruce's voice trailed off and he frowned.
"What?"
"I asked him to do some searching about this 'Clark Kent'. There are several gaps where there shouldn't be..."
Harvey rolled his eyes. "Well, you can ask him all about these gaps when we meet him." Bruce nodded, but he was still frowning. He reached out and placed a hand on his forehead, obviously startling him. It was Harvey's turn to frown at the heat his hand encountered. "Hey, you are sick, aren't you?" Bruce batted his hand away and grimaced. "We'll get you something to make you feel better in Metropolis, okay?" Bruce sighed. "In the meantime-"
"If I'm going to be sick I'll aim for you."
Now it was Harvey's turn to grimace. "Thanks."
*****
Harvey was carefully looking at Bruce from behind the pages of the thick book on law he was supposedly reading. He hadn't turned a page in... he couldn't remember. He had just kept reading the same, very dry paragraph over and over.
If there had been doubt if Bruce was really sick, one glace at him now... He looked terribly young, like the boy whose tear streaked face had been splashed over every newspaper in the country. He wasn't asleep - his body was too tense, and besides, Bruce wouldn't let himself fall asleep here, surrounded by all these people who he didn't trust. It didn't matter how bad he was feeling, nothing was going to make that happen. Maybe he was meditating or... something.
Harvey sighed and made another attempt at reading. The coach was going slowly, stopping, then moving a little, then stopping again. Normal Metropolis traffic. Normal in any great city. Still, they were almost there. At least the noise level had fallen now, most people reading or listening to music or texting. The people who were talking were doing so quietly, though there were loud giggles from the girls sometimes.
Harvey's eyes went back to Bruce - he was looking out the window, watching the traffic and buildings, nibbling at one of Alfred's cookies. He hadn't had the chance to steal any yet, but he wasn't going to. Bruce was sick, after all. He sighed, and gave up on the book, putting it back in his bag, then checking his mobile. Nothing since the last time he'd checked. He closed his eyes and sat back, then yawned, the monotony of the travel making him sleepy. And it was getting really hot on the coach too, the heating still on full blast and the body heat... Well, he would be glad once they could get off.
He nearly found himself falling asleep, when one of the girls exclaimed at the first sighting of the Daily Planet building. Harvey rubbed his eyes as he sat up, seeing that, yes, they were much closer to finally being able to get off the coach. He looked at Bruce and saw a flash of those stunning eyes.
"How're you feeling?" He asked quietly. Bruce looked at him slowly, then licked his dry lips. "We're almost there." Harvey noted. Bruce nodded, looking out the window again. "We'll get you some medicine, then find somewhere quiet, okay? Then after we've done the interview thing we'll find a bookshop and stay there until it's time to meet up with everyone again, okay?"
Bruce looked at him again, a slight smile on his lips, and nodded. "Thanks Harvey."
Harvey smiled at him, resisting the urge to hug him. It was at times like these you were reminded of just how young Bruce was. Of how used he was to having someone looking after him.
The coach winded its way through the streets and traffic until it stopped for a final time, outside the Metropolis University campus.
*****
They were one of the first people off the coach; breathing in the cold, clean air was a welcome shock. The other students trickled off as Bruce and Harvey pulled on their coats and gloves, putting their scarfs about their necks. From his bag Bruce pulled a hat and put it on, hiding himself further. Of course, the paparazzi were a threat here, though Harvey hoped they wouldn't prove a problem today. Not with Bruce sick.
Finally everyone was off the coach and then they were following the teachers into one the buildings, through corridors and then into a room, full of a equal number of Metropolis students. They were chatting quietly, but fell silent as they walked in. Bruce managed to maneuver himself behind Harvey, scanning the room carefully.
Once everyone had entered, the teachers introduced themselves, then reiterated why they were here: to interview each other, rich v poor, yada yada. They were to meet back here at 3pm precisely. It was near 11am now, so that meant they had four hours. More than enough time.
They mingled - or rather, everyone else did, Harvey didn't move, and nor did Bruce. He glanced at Bruce to see that his eyes had settled on two students, a blonde haired one, eyeing the girls, and a dark haired boy with glasses, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"That's them. Kent and Ross." Bruce murmured.
Harvey raised a eyebrow in their direction. They boy with the glasses looked over at them suddenly, as if he had heard Bruce say his name. "Well, we'll get the interview done by 12, so that'll give us plenty of time to find a good bookshop."
People were trickling out of the room now, talking with their partners for the day. Kent and Ross started to move towards them. He saw Bruce tugging his hat down even further, hiding himself more. Harvey plastered a smile on his face and moved forward to shake his partner's hand.
*****
They had left the campus behind, Harvey and Bruce walking before Ross and Kent, who both looked rather... awe-inspired of them. Their eyes had widened when they had been introduced to Bruce, though Kent's brow had furrowed slightly, then a look of sympathy had come into his eyes.
Harvey wasn't sure what he felt about that, nor the worried and concerned looks he shot Bruce from time to time.
He stepped closer to Bruce, who looked at him, somewhat confused. Damn. He hoped he wasn't getting feverish. "Well, guys, it's your city. Where can we go to do this interview where we won't get bothered? Harvey had turned so he was walking backwards, raising a eyebrow at the other students.
"Um... there's a quiet coffee shop a few blocks away..." Kent offered, hand twitching to his glasses, fumbling with them.
Harvey had never seen anyone look so... dork-like before. "Sounds good. That okay with you two?" He asked, nodding at Ross, but looking at Bruce.
"That's fine. Yeah." Ross said, glancing at Kent. Bruce didn't seem to react, but Harvey knew him well enough to be able to see the agreement in his eyes. And the slight plea.
"Lead on, then." He gave a mock half bow to Ross and Kent, moving aside so they could lead them to the coffee shop, receiving odd looks from them both by his actions. They probably thought that this was how rich kids acted, as if they were still stuck in the middle ages or something.
He held back a snort. Bruce gave him a look; he just shrugged. No one said that they couldn't have fun, had they? Bruce sighed softly, and Harvey instantly felt any joviality leave him. They needed to find a drug store. He was debating if it was best to go to one now, or see if Bruce could hang on until they could ditch Ross and Kent, when they stopped suddenly, Bruce bringing up an arm to stop him from walking into them.
Kent turned to look at them - at Bruce, and Harvey felt something dark and rolling move in his stomach.
"You'll be able to get some medicine in there."
Harvey glanced at the shop they were standing outside, seeing that it was a drug store. He looked at Kent sharply, wondering how he had known. Bruce was hiding it well, only someone who knew him, really knew him, should be able to see that he was sick.
"Thank you," was all that Bruce said, his first spoken words to Kent and Ross - to Kent - dropping his arm from Harvey. Harvey blinked at him - he must be feeling truly awful if he was willing to admit his illness to these two complete strangers.
Bruce moved to go inside, and Harvey quickly followed him. Knowing Bruce he'd end up getting the wrong thing and only making himself even more ill. He was vaguely aware of Ross and Kent following him, but then Bruce was stumbling slightly, and Harvey rushed forward to catch him. "Are you-"
"I'm fine. Just tripped."
He stared at Bruce hard, seeing his unfocused eyes. Damn it, why did Bruce have to hide so much of what he was feeling? Why couldn't he just open up to him and just tell him how he was really feeling? There was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing, it wouldn't change anything if-
"Harvey." Bruce's voice was quiet, but he immediately let go of him. He obviously didn't want to cause a scene, and once the people around them realized that the only heir to the Wayne fortune was standing right here in their midst... Damn it.
"Will you at least tell me if it's bad enough to go to hospital?" He scowled.
Bruce was glaring at him, but that was okay, he was used to Bruce's glares. "I'm fine, Harvey. I'll be even better when he actually get somewhere quiet."
Harvey nodded, considered briefly sending Bruce ahead with Kent or Ross, then decided against it, not trusting them. "Okay," he nodded, seeing the look in Bruce's eyes. He'd never win when Bruce was in this kind of mood. Beside them Ross and Kent were shifting from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. "Okay."
*****
Medicine bought and taken with a grimace, they were once more on their way to the coffee shop. None of then talked, Ross and Kent seeming to have nothing to say, Harvey too worried about Bruce to start any conversation. The crowds thinned, there were only one or two people around now, and Harvey could practically see the waves of relief rolling off Bruce. He was relieved himself, the less people around, the less likely that any paparazzi were lurking.
They arrived at a small cafe, some scattered tables outside, no one sitting at them. Harvey and Bruce followed Ross and Kent inside; the cafe was warm, a radio was playing quietly, only one or two people were sitting at the rough wooden tables. Perfect.
There was a awkward pause for a moment, then Ross spoke. "So, where shall we sit?"
Harvey glanced at the tables, before Bruce moved, and seemingly picked one at random, though it was probably the most strategic or defensible or whatever, table in the place. Or, Harvey thought with a eyebrow raising, as Bruce sat down with his back to the door, he just really wanted to sit down.
Harvey pulled a chair over and put his bag on it, Ross and Kent doing the same. The chairs were odd and mismatched, but they seemed to work, somehow. Harvey put a hand on Bruce's shoulder - he was taking his gloves off, but looked up at and nodded. Opposite Bruce, Kent was sitting down, after nearly tripping over his chair, and seemingly having a titanic struggle in removing his coat.
Harvey felt for his wallet, then moved over to the counter, Ross following him. They ordered drinks and sandwiches, Harvey getting a pastry for Bruce - the girl behind the counter seemed to know Ross and Kent, he guessed they were regulars here.
"I'm sorry your friend's ill."
Harvey looked back at their table - Bruce had taken his coat and scarf off, but kept his hat on. He was pulling the envelope of information from his bag; Kent's rather rumpled copy already on the table, though he was apparently now struggling to find something to write with. "He'll be better soon. It's just a cold." Yes, it might be, but that wouldn't stop him from worrying any less about it.
They collected their drinks and Bruce's pastry, their sandwiches promised soon, then walked back to the table. Bruce had his phone out, he seemed to be texting someone. Harvey placed the hot chocolate and pastry in front of him, figuring that Bruce's stomach wasn't up for much. Besides, they could always get something else later.
"Texting Alfred?" He questioned, placing his coffee at his place. Bruce nodded, concentrating on his phone.
"Who's Alfred?" Ross asked, sitting down.
"He's my... guardian." Bruce said, after a moment's pause. "He wanted to know we got here okay," he added, then put the phone away.
Kent was smiling. "My Ma and Pa are like that too." His eyes were warm as they looked at Bruce, and Harvey felt the black... thing inside him move again.
He draped his coat over the back of his chair, then sat down. Bruce sipped his chocolate. "Thanks Harvey," he murmured, a brief smile flittering across his face.
He felt the dark thing's hold lessen at the sight of it. "S'oaky."
Ross and Kent were taking sips from their drinks too. "So, you're, um..." Ross was looking at Bruce, rather stunned.
Bruce nodded, slowly, warily. "We, ah, try not to use his name too much. In case someone might overhear..." Harvey said, looking at them meaningfully. Ross and Kent nodded, seeming to understand the gravity of the situation.
"So, um, what should we call you, then?" Kent's voice was quiet, mild, still looking at Bruce in concern.
Bruce smiled wryly. "Bruce is fine."
Kent smiled then, almost bashfully, a hint of color touching his cheeks. "Okay, Bruce. I'm Clark." Bruce nodded at him slightly in acknowledgment.
"I'm Pete."
"And I'm Harvey." Their somewhat less informal introductions over, Harvey started to dig around his bag from the interview sheets, Bruce pulling his out from the envelope, smoothing them carefully, while Kent went back to searching for a pen.
*****
"So, you live on a farm?" Bruce's quiet question broke the semi-silence.
Kent smiled, his eyes going distant. "Yeah... I've lived there all my life, with my Ma and Pa..."
"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" Bruce was being unusually talkative. For him, Harvey thought, raising an eyebrow at him slightly, which Bruce ignored. But maybe he was just trying to distract himself from how terrible he was feeling. Or he really wanted to get the interview over as soon as possible. Sometimes, you could never tell with Bruce. Unless you were Alfred. But Alfred knew everything. Harvey was sure of that.
"Well, I..." Kent shifted slightly, then exchanged a brief look with Ross. Harvey almost thought that Ross' look was a warning. "I, um... Not a lot of people know this, but I was adopted. I... never knew my birth parents, so..."
Bruce nodded slowly beside him. Harvey frowned a little to himself. He didn't trust these two guys, not yet, and he knew that Kent was pushing Bruce's buttons just right, mentioning parents and orphans and... "You've never tried to find your birth parents?"
There was a flash of pain in Kent's eyes then, too intense to be faked. Ross glared at him. Harvey just looked back.
"I... No." There was finality in Kent's tone, a steel he hadn't expected under the surface.
There was uncomfortable silence again. Bruce started nibbling his pastry. "Uh... What's Gotham like?" Ross was still slightly angry, no doubt at his upsetting Kent, but it made Harvey feel better. Wouldn't he act the exact same way if someone started prying Bruce on his parents?
"Gotham is..." He found himself smiling. "You really have to be a Gothamite to understand. But it's big and dirty and needs clearing up, and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."
Beside him Bruce was smiling, a true smile, the smile he had whenever he thought about Gotham. "She needs someone to... be there for her. To help her. Yes, she may be dirty and full of criminals and it may seem like there's no hope... But there is. There are good people there. People with so much hope. Who know that they can make a difference. People who want her to be able to hold her head high again." Bruce sighed, sounding for all the world like a man desperately in love. "She's beautiful."
Ross was eyeing Bruce like he was crazy - not many people viewed cities as living beings, after all. But Gotham wasn't just any city. It was... Gotham.
Kent was looking at Bruce in surprise, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time, for the first time realizing that maybe he wasn't alone. "And are you one of those people, Bruce?" His question was quiet, but charged, almost as if he desperately wanted to know the answer, but at the same time desperately didn't, held between the two, tortured.
Bruce smiled slowly, nodding thoughtfully. "I certainly hope so."
Kent's smile was blinding in its intensity then, in its relief and hope.
"She?" Ross' voice was incredulous, clearly starting Bruce and Kent, who had been staring into each others' eyes, as if stunned by what they had both found.
Harvey felt strangely relieved at Ross' loud question, the dark thing within him had been rising again... He smiled now, as best as he could. "Gotham is different from every other city. You can't spend any true amount of time there and not realize that."
Ross was looking bemused, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But then the girl from the counter arrived with their freshly made sandwiches, and the conversation halted for the time being.
*****
"So, what's it like to live in a mansion?" Ross had gone back to looking at Bruce in awe. Harvey could practically feel Bruce's uncomfort rolling off him.
"Well, it's..." He sighed, then smiled wryly. "I've lived in my home all my life. That it's a mansion doesn't really mean anything to me. It's just my home." Bruce was smiling distantly, no doubt thinking of Wayne Manor.
Ross looked skeptical and Harvey felt a sudden flash of annoyance - what, just because Bruce's home was a mansion that meant it wasn't a home like whatever house Ross lived in? Grew up in? But Kent just made a note on his papers, a small, happy smile on his face.
Bruce was being unusually talkative, opening up in ways he never normally did, and it made Harvey... annoyed that Ross couldn't see that for what it was, couldn't tell how precious it was. Kent, at least, seemed to understand that, that every word Bruce uttered was precious, had to be stored away somewhere safe, to protect it from harm. Fragile wasn't a word to describe Bruce - indeed, he would deeply resent it if it was applied to him - but it was so true in so many ways, so many different ways... But Bruce was talking now, and Harvey quickly halted his thoughts so he could listen.
He was asking Ross and Kent a question for a change. "What do you want to do after you graduate?" He took a sip of his chocolate - his throat was probably getting really sore now.
Ross looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I think I want to travel. See things and people. Then, maybe..." He paused, obviously thinking deeply. "I think I want to get involved in politics."
Harvey dutifully noted it down, seeing Kent smiling again. "I know you'd make a great politician, Pete."
Ross seemed to glow at Kent's words, like it was some form of a massive stamp of approval.
"And you?" Bruce prompted Kent.
He looked lost in thought for a while, choosing his words carefully. "I want to help people. I know that. I know that I can do that. And I want to be a journalist, write about things that wouldn't normally be written about. Write things so that people know the truth, not what people are bribed to say."
Harvey raised a eyebrow, but he could see Bruce's small, almost satisfied smile, like Kent had just passed some kind of test.
"You might upset a lot of powerful people if you do that..." Harvey warned.
Kent shrugged again, glancing at him, before looking back at Bruce. "If that's what's going to happen, then let them get upset. I'm not going to let them scare me into submission, like everyone else."
Harvey raised his other eyebrow, so they were twinned now. Either this guy was stupid or crazy. Yet... yet, he seemed to honestly believe what he was saying.
"I want to change things. Make them better. Make the world a better place."
Ross was smiling, like he knew a secret then. "I know you will, Clark." Kent blushed then, red flushing all over his face, one hand coming up to fiddle with his glasses. Bruce was noting down what he had said with a thoughtful look on his face.
"What about you two? What do you wanna do?" Ross asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Bruce seemed pensive, so Harvey answered first.
"I'm going to be a lawyer. Then I'm going to be DA for Gotham. Start to finally tidy things up."
It was Ross' turn to look skeptical. "You seem so sure you'll be DA..."
Harvey looked at him. "I know I will be. It's what's meant to happen." Ross exchanged a look with Kent. Bruce was silent. Harvey didn't need him to tell him that he believed him, knew he could do it. He had already told him, after all. Ross noted it down regardless.
"And you, Bruce? What do you want to do?" Kent looked shy and hopeful. Harvey was almost ready to swear that he had a crush on Bruce.
Bruce was silent for a while, clearly gathering his thoughts. "I'm expected to become CEO of Wayne Enterprises, of course. And I will, even if I'm only a figurehead. But I want to do... good. Charity work. Try to find ways to help people. To fight for the people who can't fight for themselves. To make Gotham a better place, a safer place. To try and make sure... no one is ever hurt again."
There was silence for a while after Bruce's quiet words. They all could tell he meant what he was saying with all his soul. And that he was baring a lot of it. Ross and Kent had better realize how precious that was, Harvey thought with a sudden flash of anger and protectiveness, perhaps spurred on by the emotions he could plainly see on Kent's face. He looked like he had just fallen in love.
"I know you'll do that, Bruce. I know it." His voice seemed deeper than normal, more... resonant.
Harvey was amazed to see color touch Bruce's face. "Thank you," he murmured. Kent smiled softly. Beside him, Ross looked slightly troubled.
*****
They ended up not going to the bookshop after all. Bruce seemed happy just staying in the coffee shop, sitting down, resting, away from crowds of people. He must have still been feeling horrible, colds didn't just disappear like that, and Harvey would have worried that he might have gotten dizzy again, anyway.
So they stayed where they were, drinking coffee and hot chocolate, eating the odd pastry - Bruce even relaxed enough that he let Kent and Ross have one of Alfred's cookies each, and the wide-eyed look on their faces as they tasted them made them both smile. Bruce phoned Alfred to get the recipe for Kent's mother and they all relaxed around each other, talking less and less about the interview, and just as friends.
But it didn't escape Harvey's notice that Bruce and Kent spent most of their time talking to each other - if Ross' raised eyebrows were any indication then he wasn't entirely happy about that either.
They were all surprised when they had to leave so Bruce and Harvey could get the coach back and they swapped e-mail address so, if they later found they had missed a question or needed to know more, they could contact each other.
This time, walking back to the campus, it was Kent walking beside Bruce, not Harvey, and when they got separated by the crowds of afternoon shoppers for a moment, then found each other again, they were both flushing, a heat that couldn't exactly be attributed to Bruce's cold, or to Kent's shyness.
They paused before the coach, knots of other students around, and Harvey could feel the dark thing in his chest rising, threatening to overwhelm him as they said goodbye, along with promises of how, if Kent or Ross were ever to visit Gotham they should let them know so they could show them the true city. Because he could see the way Bruce and Kent were looking at each other.
And then later, when Bruce and Harvey were on the coach, winding through the mid-afternoon traffic, Harvey watching Bruce stare unseeing out the window, fingers touching his lips now and then, a tiny smile on his face...
Harvey knew that he had lost the battle before it had even fully begun. Because he had seen the way Bruce had looked at Kent, the way he had never looked at anyone or anything besides Gotham before... And he knew that Clark Kent had captured Bruce's heart.
