I was working on my WIPs, but then I put my Spotify on shuffle and heard the song Have We Met Before by Sarah Barrios ft. Eric Nam and wrote a new story. What can I say, it screamed SuperBat identity porn to me!

This story takes place early on in their careers, the Justice League is newly formed, Batman isn't really a member of the League and they don't know each other's secret identities.

Three cheers for rotasha! Thanks for helping me out!

Disclaimer: I don't own any DC characters.

Clark stepped out of the Gotham City Police Department expecting to be greeted by warm rays of sunlight only to be disappointed when he realized the sun was hidden behind dark, grey clouds. He'd been inside the building interviewing Commissioner Gordon for the past hour and had missed the warmth and heat of the sun. Who knew the inside of a building could be so dark? But maybe he shouldn't have been surprised; he was in Gotham.

When he'd checked the weather channel this morning, there hadn't been any rain in the forecast, so he hadn't thought it would be necessary to bring an umbrella with him. He was regretting it now as he stood under the small awning of the precinct trying to stay dry. He'd taken the train from Metropolis to Gotham and then he'd walked from the station to the police department. Clark weighed his options as he continued to hide from the rain. Either he could run to catch the next train, and be soaked to the bone during the uncomfortable ride back to Gotham, or he could go next door to the All-American-themed diner and wait out the rain.

He looked down at the watch on his wrist. He had monitor duty at the Watchtower tonight, but he didn't need to be there for another forty minutes. He had time to spare. Although it was rush hour and the diner seemed busy, Clark was able to spot an open seat left at the counter. Perfect.

Clark removed his tweed jacket and raised his arms to hold it over his head; at least it would keep him somewhat dry as he ran over to the restaurant. He didn't use any super speed, but he still got there fairly quickly. There weren't a lot of people on the sidewalks; everyone seemed to be hiding from the rain.

The bell above the door rang as he entered the establishment, but it was drowned out by the chatter of patrons and the music flowing out of the nearby jukebox. Despite all that, one of the waitresses noticed Clark enter, even as she was serving a customer.

"There's a spot open at the counter. Take a seat and I'll be with you in a moment," she told him, her loud yet melodic voice carrying across the room.

"Thank you!" Clark replied. His jacket was soaking wet, so instead of putting it back on, he hung it on the coat rack near the front door. He then walked over to the counter.

The seat that was available was at the very end, so only one other customer was sitting beside him. Clark barely had time to get comfortable because, within seconds, the waitress who'd told him to seat himself approached with a menu in hand. She was an older lady, her long gray hair tied into a bun on the top of her head.

"Here's our menu, sugar," she said as she handed him the plastic-coated sheets of paper. "Can I get you started with something to drink?"

"I'll take a coffee with milk, please," Clark answered. Despite his night shift tonight, Clark didn't need the caffeine. He didn't get the same energy boost it gave non-Kryptonians, but he did enjoy the taste and warmth of it. It was like drinking liquid sunshine! But only after putting a lot of milk in it. It was something Lois made fun of him for doing. She joked that he took his milk with a side of coffee.

Clark quickly glanced over the menu, spotting what he wanted near the bottom of the page. "And I'll take the cheeseburger, please." Whenever he visited a new restaurant, he preferred ordering something he knew he would enjoy. Plus, a hamburger was a hard meal to mess up.

"Sounds good. It shouldn't be too long. I'm Holly, flag me down if you need anything else," she told him as he handed her back the menu. She walked behind the counter to relay his order to the chef.

Holly then grabbed a large mug from one of the shelves on the wall and walked over to the coffee machine. She took the pot of freshly brewed coffee and walked back to Clark. Holly placed the cup in front of him and poured the coffee, filling it to the brim.

"Thank you," Clark told her as he brought the mug closer to him.

"No problem. And here's your milk," she replied as reached into a mini-fridge under the counter to grab a pitcher. Clark took the milk from her and watched as Holly shuffled over to the customer beside him. "Can I get you anything to drink, honey?"

"Coffee, please," the man replied. Since Clark had entered the establishment, the man had his nose buried in his book. He'd already been served, but he hadn't touched his food. His book must have been really interesting if he'd forgotten his dinner was in front of him and getting cold. Even now, as he answered the waitress, he kept his nose buried in his book, not even looking up to make eye contact with the waitress.

But Holly didn't seem to mind the man's strange behavior. She simply grabbed another cup and filled it before walking back to the kitchen.

As an investigative reporter, Clark could easily admit he was curious by nature. He knew it wasn't polite to stare, but he couldn't help but wonder what book the man beside him was so enthralled with. Maybe Clark needed to add it to his reading list. As he took a tentative sip of his coffee, Clark glanced at his neighbor and noticed that the book was an early edition of The Hobbit. The copy looked beat up, so either he'd read it before or he'd bought it used.

Clark could relate to that. Growing up, The Hobbit had been one of his favorite books to read. His copy, passed down to him from Pa, was also in bad shape. With fondness, he remembered how on nights when he couldn't sleep, his Ma would come to sit on the edge of his bed and read to him. A couple of pages and the soft rhythm of her voice were all it took to lull him to sleep. He often dreamt he was a hobbit going on glorious adventures.

He wondered what part of Bilbo's adventure the man beside him was currently reading about. Clark snuck another peak, trying to see a chapter title or page number. He could probably accurately guess the plot point based on that information.

Strange. The man hadn't turned the page since Clark had last looked. Maybe he was a slow reader? He shouldn't judge.

As he returned his gaze to his coffee mug, Holly arrived with his food. She placed the plate with the cheeseburger and side of fries in front of him.

"Enjoy," she said, flashing him a gentle smile.

"Thank you," Clark replied as he placed the mug back on the counter.

He should concentrate on his food and stop spying on his poor neighbor. He needed to eat and then get ready for his shift tonight. He didn't have time to be investigating the man's reading habits.

The burger was grilled to perfection and the fries were warm and very salty. It didn't take long for Clark to get more than halfway through his dinner. It was delicious and he was enjoying himself. So why did he feel the need to once again look at the man beside him?

One last glance wouldn't hurt.

He was still on page 68 and his BLT sandwich remained untouched in front of him. That was weird, right? Clark knew Gotham was a strange place; he'd heard plenty of stories from Batman. Gotham had a reputation; it was dark, dangerous, and creepy. Should he be worried that the man beside him was planning something nefarious?

Without trying to be too obvious, Clark tried to analyze the man's face and body language. There was no denying the man was handsome. He had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and incredibly fair skin. His posture was relaxed; nothing seemed to indicate that the man was in distress or that he was hiding something. The only thing that seemed weird was the fact that his eyes weren't moving, he wasn't actually reading. Then why did he keep the book open? Why did he need to give the appearance that he was reading?

Maybe Clark was being dramatic. Or maybe he was being cautious based on what he knew about Gotham. It was probably an invasion of privacy, but Clark thought it was a good precaution to listen to the man's heartbeat.

The heartbeat was steady and strong. Normally, Clark could distinguish when someone was stressed or nervous; their heartbeat grew faster and more erratic. But the man beside him didn't give the impression that he was panicking. The risk of him robbing the place was small.

There had to be another explanation. Maybe he'd had a hard day and couldn't concentrate. Maybe he was lost in his own thoughts.

Clark must have been staring a bit too intensely. He hadn't meant to, but the man beside him had taken notice. Clark felt panic grip him as he made eye contact with the man. The man seemed slightly surprised that Clark had been staring at him. Clark didn't blame him; he wouldn't have wanted to be stared down either.

Even if that meant admitting he'd been staring, he was about to apologize; his Ma had raised him properly. But the man spoke before Clark could get a chance to say anything.

"Could you pass the maple syrup?" he asked, looking at Clark.

"What?" Clark replied, the word slipping out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

The man pointed at something past Clark, near the edge of the counter. Clark turned to look and sure enough, there was a glass dispenser full of maple syrup. It had probably been there since breakfast time. Clark remembered seeing pancakes on the menu.

"Oh! Yeah, of course," Clark finally answered. He grabbed the dispenser and handed it to the man.

"Thanks," he replied. He turned back to his book as if nothing had happened.

Maybe he hadn't noticed that Clark had been staring earlier. Good. Now was the time to look away and mind his own business.

If anyone asked, he would swear that he had actually been about to look away. But movement caught his attention and he watched in horror as the man took the maple syrup and poured it into his coffee. And it wasn't just a little bit; it was a good ten seconds' worth of pouring! Clark knew he shouldn't be judging; he put cheddar cheese on top of his apple pie. But maple syrup in coffee just felt wrong! Was this a normal thing in Gotham? It wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen in the city. Maybe he could ask Batman about it. But only if they became closer as friends. Their relationship, much to Clark's disappointment, was still strictly professional.

Finally, Clark looked away. His Ma would be disappointed in him. He'd spent the entire night judging a poor man who'd probably just come to the diner after a hard day at work. Clark was no longer hungry and it was more than past time he left the man alone. He flagged Holly down, paid his bill, and left a tip before heading back out.

His coat was still wet, but luckily it had stopped raining. Clark found a dark and unoccupied alley to change into his Superman suit before flying out of Gotham and to the Watchtower. Hopefully, Batman hadn't noticed Superman had been in his city.

A couple of days later, Clark was once again on the Watchtower for monitor duty. He hadn't been scheduled to work tonight, but Flash had begged to switch shifts with him. He supposedly had a hot date he couldn't miss and he would forever be grateful to Superman if he covered for him. Clark had agreed; Flash deserved to have some fun and Clark enjoyed helping his friends.

He'd arrived at the Watchtower a couple of minutes before his shift. Clark hadn't had time to eat dinner before coming since he'd had to fly to Paris to help with a hostage situation. The League kept a fully stocked fridge in the kitchen; most of the time, only Flash used it. But Clark would be able to go there and grab a quick snack before he had to be in the monitor room.

In the kitchen, Clark found the right ingredients to make a grilled cheese sandwich. To save time, he cheated and used his heat vision to melt the cheese. He was just about to leave when Batman suddenly walked into the room.

"Hi, Batman," he said joyfully. Although Batman wasn't a member of the League, Clark enjoyed working with him any chance he got. Sure, Batman seemed intimidating, but Clark could tell it was partially an act and that there was something more lurking underneath. He didn't necessarily mean that in the literal sense; of course, he'd never peaked under Batman's mask. He would never violate his secret identity. But sometimes, Clark wished he could get to know Batman. Maybe it was like earning a dog's trust; it was something that took patience and kindness. Clark had both of those things. So, he flashed Batman a smile. "Wonder Woman mentioned you might be visiting sometime tonight."

"Do you know where she is?" Batman asked, his tone flat and his question direct.

"She's just gone to take a shower. Earlier she was sparring with Green Lantern. She should be back any minute..." he said, trailing off after relaying Wonder Woman's message.

Batman grunted in reply. Clark wasn't an expert – hopefully, one day he would become one – but he was fairly sure that had been one of Batman's happier grunts. He wasn't mad, he was just acknowledging what Clark had said.

"I can keep you company while you wait," Clark offered. He knew Martian Manhunter wouldn't mind that he was a couple of minutes late. "Want anything to eat or drink?" It wasn't his house, but he felt like he should play host. Batman was technically a guest at the Watchtower.

Batman stared at him and Clark was sure he was about to get told off or ignored. But to his surprise, Batman mumbled that he wouldn't mind a coffee.

"Sure!" Clark excitedly replied. He placed his plate back on the counter and reached up into the cupboard to grab a mug. The League always kept a pot of fresh coffee in the machine. "How was your day?" he asked as he went about making Batman his drink.

Silence. Had Batman not heard him? He quickly turned his head around to see if Batman was even still there. He had a habit of disappearing without making a sound; Clark had no idea how he did it. But no, Batman was still there. Clark was now on the receiving end of a frown.

"Oh," he mumbled when he realized why Batman wasn't answering him. He should have remembered Batman's preference of wanting to keep his personal life separate from his work life.

Silence enveloped the room as Clark struggled with how to rectify the situation. He could apologize but that would probably make Batman scowl even more than he already was. He could maintain the awkward silence. Or he could try asking another question.

"How was your patrol of Gotham last night?" Clark finally chose to ask.

"Fine, it was quiet," Batman replied. Clark tried his best to mask his pleasant surprise at the fact that Batman had actually answered him. This was progress! It wasn't much, but he felt like he'd just accomplished a huge milestone.

"That's good," he acknowledged as he tried to play it cool. He turned around and handed the mug to Batman. "Sorry, I'm not sure how you like your coffee, but there's milk and creamer in the fridge and the sugar is in the cupboard."

Batman accepted the cup but didn't make a move to grab any of the items Clark had listed. Clark wouldn't be surprised if Batman drank his coffee black; it matched his theme.

But still, Clark felt like he needed to ask, his Midwestern upbringing taking over.

"There's also dairy-free products in the fridge in case you're lactose intolerant," he suggested. He smiled shyly at Batman, hoping to make him feel comfortable enough to take whatever he needed.

"I'm not," Batman admitted. Batman was known for preferring to speak in short and concise sentences, but Clark couldn't shake the feeling that Batman wasn't telling him something.

"Is there something else you prefer in your coffee? There's maple syrup in the fridge," Clark said recalling how the Gothamite in the diner had made his coffee.

If Clark didn't have super senses, he wouldn't have noticed how Batman's grip on his mug tightened.

"Batman?" Clark suddenly asked as his senses picked up on something else. "Are you okay? Your heart rate just spiked." Had Clark's question been too personal? By the way Batman's heart rate sped up, it seemed like he was desperately trying to keep a panic attack at bay.

"I'm fine," Batman angrily mumbled. "Tell Wonder Woman I'll be waiting for her in the lab." Clark watched in surprise as Batman turned around and walked away. Clark had somehow crossed a line and he felt terrible. He hadn't meant to make Batman uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Clark said, calling out after Batman. He wanted, no, he needed to rectify the situation.

Once again, to his surprise, Batman did the unexpected. He stopped walking away and whirled around to face Clark. Batman didn't say anything, so Clark assumed that meant it was his chance to explain. Or at least he hoped that was what it meant.

"I wasn't judging or anything. It's just that I recently saw a man in Gotham pour maple syrup in his coffee and wondered if it was a common occurrence in your city. But I'm probably wrong, I think I spent way too much time analyzing this poor man's life while he was just trying to eat a meal in a diner." Why had Clark just admitted to all of that? His Ma had always said he tended to vomit out all his words when got nervous. This is exactly what was happening now; he was making a mess instead of salvaging what little friendship he had left with Batman.

"I'm rambling now," Clark admitted. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry for making things awkward. I'll let Wonder Woman know where you are."

Clark expected Batman to leave. But he stayed rooted in place. Clark wished he could see underneath the cowl; he was curious as to what emotion was currently painted on Batman's face. If he knew, it would give Clark a better impression of what to expect. All Clark knew was that Batman's heartbeat had slowed down. It was now strong, steady, and oddly familiar. Maybe it was because he had subconsciously familiarized himself with Batman's heartbeat after working with him so frequently.

He kept trying to tell himself that instead of listening to the part of his brain that was screaming at him that it was the same heartbeat he'd heard in the diner. Wow, he was a mess tonight.

"Were you using your x-ray vision to read my copy of The Hobbit or were you just checking me out?"

Although Clark knew he had perfect hearing, he was positive he'd just misheard Batman. Did he just say his copy of The Hobbit?

Batman waited in silence. Clark could feel Batman's heavy gaze on him and he felt like he was being tested, judged, and analyzed all at the same time.

"That was you in the diner?" Clark whispered even though they were the only two people in the room. "You were the mysterious handsome man sitting next to me at the counter?" he repeated, his voice rising as he realized what Batman had just admitted.

Apart from Clark hearing Batman's heartbeat spike once again, neither of them said anything else after Clark's statement. The pair stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say now that the information of their secret identities was out in the open.

Clark listened as Batman calmed his heart rate once more. "I'm not sure about handsome," he said as he reached up to remove his cowl. "I normally go by Bruce Wayne."

Clark must have defied the laws of physics as his jaw dropped even further. "Wayne?" he stuttered as he placed the name to the face. Bruce Wayne was Batman?

That should have been a bombshell of a revelation. He should have been shocked, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Who else but Bruce Wayne could fund all of Batman's gadgets? Who else but Bruce Wayne seemed to care about making Gotham a better place?

How had Clark not recognized Bruce when he was at the diner? Clark was a reporter, and everyone in the Metropolis and Gotham area knew who Bruce Wayne was. He'd been too preoccupied with Bruce's reading habits to realize who he'd been rudely staring at.

"I, uh... I'm Clark Kent," he finally managed to say. "But why are you telling— Cowl!" Clark cut himself off to warn Bruce.

With a speed that could rival Flash, Bruce pulled his cowl back on just as Wonder Woman walked into the kitchen.

Clark had been so caught up in the moment that he hadn't heard her approach until the very last second. Thankfully they avoided Bruce having to reveal his identity to Wonder Woman as well.

"Batman, I'm sorry for making you wait," Wonder Woman said in greeting. "Have you been here a while?"

Bruce turned, his cape fluttering around him at the sudden movement. "It's fine. I just got here," he replied calmly. Clark had no idea how he gave the impression he hadn't just revealed his most guarded secret to Superman.

"Wonderful," Wonder Woman replied, flashing a relieved smile. "Shall we head to the lab?"

Batman nodded as he walked towards the door.

"Have a good night, Superman," Wonder Woman called out.

Clark ignored Wonder Woman and instead took a few steps forward to chase after Bruce.

"But wait," Clark said, an almost frantic tone coating his voice. "Why would you... What changed..."

Despite Clark's lack of complete sentences, Bruce seemed to know what he was trying to ask.

"I realized I don't know you. I know Superman, but not you. I thought it was time to change that."

"Oh," Clark replied as he tried to process what Bruce meant. He couldn't help but think and hope it meant Batman trusted him. He smiled softly. "Well, I'm glad you changed your mind."

Batman grunted in acknowledgment before turning back around to exit the room. Wonder Woman, who'd been listening to their exchange, shot Clark a pointed look. He knew he'd be cornered later on to fill her in on what she'd just witnessed.

Clark watched as Batman and Wonder Woman walked out of the kitchen. He really needed to get to the monitor room to relieve Martian Manhunter of his duties. As he rushed over, he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. If it hadn't rained during his time in Gotham, he wouldn't have run into Bruce Wayne. If Flash hadn't gone on a hot date, Clark wouldn't have discovered Batman's identity. It was a lot to process. But the fact that Batman enjoyed maple syrup in his coffee was still, by far, the weirdest thing Clark had learned tonight.

Clark's a sap and brings Bruce to a coffee shop for their first official "get to know each other meeting". Which, later on, is referred to as their first date.

Also, Bruce was doing undercover recon, that's why he wasn't reading. He was busy listening to other patrons talking.