Surprise! I decided to make a sequel. This story can be read as a standalone to Have We Met Before. It's an alternate scenario, ending, and POV; just the same concept.

Originally, this is how I wanted to tell the story to play out, but I couldn't figure out an ending that I liked. But now I've decided to finish it in time for BruClark Week! Happy last day of BruClark Week and thank you to the organizers!

Disclaimer: I don't own any DC characters.

Bruce had been stuck in a business conference since the early hours of the morning and as the evening drew near, exhaustion settled in. He wished he could just get into his car, drive home and crawl into bed. To say his week had been hectic was an overstatement. Between patrolling Gotham, attending meetings for Wayne Enterprises, and helping the Justice League with an urgent mission, Bruce was more than ready to clock in a couple of hours of sleep. He wouldn't even fight Alfred on the matter like he normally did.

Unfortunately, what he wanted wasn't a possibility yet. The business conference was in Metropolis and it was far from being over. Lunch and dinner had been provided by the venue, but Bruce chose to only stick around for the lunch. With an hour of free time before the final leg of the conference, Bruce jumped at the opportunity to leave the venue and all the guests in attendance. Everybody wanted to talk to Bruce Wayne and if he wanted to maintain his joyful playboy appearance, he needed to leave. Bruce feared that he would lose his patience if one more rich, old man tried to tell him how to run his own company. A lot of them thought he was wasting money by giving so much of it to charities.

Instead of mingling with the other guests during the provided dinner, Bruce left the Metropolis Convention Center and started walking around the city. Once the cool autumn air had calmed him down and he felt the tension leave his shoulders, Bruce decided it would be a good idea to grab a small bite to eat before heading back to the venue.

It was Friday night and with only forty minutes to spare, Bruce knew he wouldn't have enough time to sit down for a full-course meal at a fancy restaurant. A fast-food joint would solve the time issue, but he didn't enjoy most chains; the only one he frequented was native to Gotham and had yet to expand to Metropolis.

As he aimlessly walked around and pondered where to grab a bite to eat, Bruce spotted a typical All-American diner across the street. It seemed busy, which Bruce took as a sign that the food was edible. Luckily the restaurant wasn't overcrowded to the point of not having any available seats.

The bell above the door rang as he entered the establishment, but the sound was slightly drowned out by the chatter of patrons and the music flowing out of the nearby jukebox. Still, one of the waitresses noticed him enter, even as she was busy serving another customer.

"Take a seat wherever, I'll be with you in a moment," she told him, her loud voice carrying across the room.

Bruce nodded in reply. There were two unoccupied booths at the back of the diner, but Bruce felt rude taking up all that space when he could just as easily sit at the counter. It was a small counter and there were already four other customers sitting down and enjoying their dinner. The stool at the end was empty and although Bruce didn't normally enjoy sitting close to strangers, he decided that it was a sacrifice worth making if it meant the diner wouldn't have to turn down a large party of clients simply because Bruce wanted a booth all to himself.

He would also draw less attention to himself if he blended in with the other patrons.

Bruce walked over to the counter and sat down on the only unoccupied stool. Within seconds, the waitress who'd spoken to him earlier approached with a menu in hand. She was an older lady, with long locks of gray hair tied into a bun on the top of her head. Just by the way she had expertly weaved her way through the tables and by the flick of her wrist as she handed Bruce the menu, he could tell she'd been working at this diner for a long time.

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

"I'll take a coffee, black," Bruce answered. He would need the caffeine to get through the rest of the evening. Bruce quickly glanced over the menu, spotting what he wanted near the bottom of the page. "And I'll take the BLT, please."

"Sounds good. It shouldn't be too long. My name is Bridgette, flag me down if you need anything else," she explained as he handed her the menu. She walked over to a window in the kitchen wall to relay his order to the chef.

Bruce watched as Bridgette then grabbed a large mug from one of the shelves on the wall and went to the coffee machine. She took the pot of freshly brewed coffee and walked back to Bruce. She placed the cup in front of him and poured the hot beverage, filling it to the brim.

"Thank you," Bruce told her as he slid the mug closer to himself.

"No problem," she replied before shuffling over to the customer beside him. "Need a refill, honey?"

"Yes, please," the man replied. Until now, he'd had his nose buried in a book. The plate in front of him was empty, meaning he'd already finished eating. Out of habit, Bruce had taken the time to analyze everyone sitting at the counter; especially the one he'd be sitting beside. Bruce had hoped that the empty plate meant the man on his left would be leaving soon. But based on the refill, Bruce's assumption had been proven false.

"Your usual dessert?" Bridgette asked after she'd finished pouring him a fresh cup of coffee.

"You're the best, Bridgette," the man replied. He was evidently a regular customer.

"And don't you forget it," she answered, winking in response. They shared a smile before she turned around to presumably get him his dessert. She grabbed the empty plate in front of him as she left.

From the corner of his eye, Bruce watched the man. He'd placed his book facedown on the counter while he'd been talking with the waitress. Bruce recognized it as an early edition of The Hobbit. The book looked beat up, meaning the customer had most likely read it before or he'd bought it used.

Bruce took a sip of his coffee, pretending to be lost in thought. But he couldn't stop glancing at the man beside him. The man was also drinking his coffee. Bruce couldn't stop himself from noticing every little detail about the customer. Like how his large hands made the regular-sized mug seem like it was made for kids at a teacup party. After taking a couple of sips, the man placed the mug back down and grabbed his book. He continued reading, adjusting the glasses on his face as he did.

Maybe the reason why Bruce couldn't stop staring was because the man was attractive.

The suit he was wearing did the man no favors. It was the ugliest and ill-fitting suit Bruce had ever seen. Luckily, the horrible fashion statement couldn't hide the fact that Bruce seemed to be sitting beside a literal Greek God. From the perfectly coiffed hair to the pearly white teeth he'd flashed at Bridgette, there was no denying how good-looking the man was.

Disregarding his sexual attraction, there was something else about the man that captured Bruce's focus. Bruce had a strange sense that the man looked familiar. But, much to his frustration, he couldn't quite place the face. He often came to Metropolis for business, so maybe that was why the man looked familiar. Maybe they'd crossed paths at one point?

If Bruce knew this man from his work as Batman, he was positive he would have picked up on it. As Batman, he made great efforts to memorize the faces of anyone he came in contact with. He also had a very good gut feeling when it came to deciding if someone was a threat or not.

But Bruce didn't currently feel in danger sitting beside the man. Surprisingly enough, Bruce felt comfortable, not at all intimidated.

As he pondered why that was, Bridgette returned with his food. She placed the plate with the BLT sandwich and a side of fries in front of him.

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

"Thank you," Bruce replied as he placed his mug back down on the counter.

"Here you go, Clark," the waitress said as she placed the other plate that had been in her hand on the counter. It was a slice of apple pie. With disgust, Bruce realized that the pie was covered with a piece of cheddar cheese. Bruce knew that some people liked to eat apple pie with cheese, but he refused to try it; it seemed wrong. The combination certainly didn't meet Alfred's culinary standards.

Bruce turned his attention to his own meal. He needed to hurry up and finish eating if he wanted to get back to the conference on time. The sooner he got that over with, the sooner he could head back to Gotham for a short patrol, and then he could finally get the sleep he'd been dreaming of all day.

Long after the business conference concluded and halfway through his regular route in Gotham, Batman received a call from Wonder Woman. She asked if he could join her on the Watchtower once he was done with his patrol. She needed his opinion on a case she was working on.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to ignore her request and crawl into his bed. He could always visit the Watchtower sometime tomorrow. But Wonder Woman had, on countless occasions, done favors for him; the least he could do was help her when she needed it. Hopefully, his detour to the Watchtower would be quick and eventless.

Also, no intelligent being who valued their life would ignore Wonder Woman's request for assistance.

So, when Batman finally arrived at the Watchtower, he expected to find Wonder Woman waiting for him. But to his surprise, the main room was empty, which meant she was somewhere else in the space station. Instead of randomly walking around in the hopes of finding her, Bruce decided it would be wiser to check the video feeds in the monitoring room.

On Fridays, Green Lantern was normally scheduled for monitor duty, so Bruce was a bit confused at the sight of Superman sitting in front of the computers. But when Superman turned around to greet him, Batman acted like he'd been expecting to find the Man of Steel there.

"Hi, Batman," Superman said. He flashed Bruce a smile. "Wonder Woman mentioned you would be visiting sometime tonight."

"Do you know where she is?" Bruce asked, ignoring the warm feeling he got every time Superman smiled at him.

"She left not too long ago with Green Lantern; there was an emergency. She told me to tell you that she was sorry. She also wanted me to ask if you could wait for her," Superman explained.

"You weren't available to help?" Batman asked skeptically.

"GL got a tip about a hidden stash of Kryptonite. I was benched and Wonder Woman volunteered to help him."

Bruce grunted in response. It made sense for Superman to stay behind in this kind of situation. But the situation itself didn't make much sense. But for now, Bruce filed the information away for later. There would be a better time to figure out who the tip was from and why Bruce hadn't known about the Kryptonite. He kept track of any and all sightings of the green substance; so how had Green Lantern found out about it before him?

"You're welcome to stay here with me while you wait," Superman offered once again. "I can hear Wonder Woman and Green Lantern; they're updating local authorities right now, so it shouldn't be long"

Good. Bruce didn't want to be stuck here forever waiting for the Amazonian Princess. He didn't normally enjoy loitering around; he preferred to remain productive at all times. But he figured it would be pointless to start working on a task if Wonder Woman was bound to return momentarily. Plus, Bruce was tired. It wouldn't be so bad to sit down for a small break. And as long as Superman didn't ask too many questions, it could be a bearable, maybe even a comfortable, experience.

"How was your day?" Superman asked as soon as Bruce sat down in the chair beside him.

Of course, Superman couldn't go for more than one second without talking. Bruce chose to ignore the question. All of the Justice League members were well aware that he preferred to keep his personal life separate from his work life.

"Oh. Right, sorry," Superman mumbled when he realized why Batman wasn't answering him.

Silence quickly filled the room. Good. Superman remembered that Batman was here on business, not to exchange pleasantries.

Bruce's eyes wandered over the multiple screens in front of him. There were video feeds showing all the rooms on the Watchtower as well as different news channels so the League could keep track of any worldwide emergencies.

"How was your patrol of Gotham?" Superman chose to ask after a couple of beautiful seconds of silence.

"Fine. It was quiet," Bruce replied, throwing the poor man a bone. But he wasn't about to reciprocate and ask Superman about his patrol of Metropolis. Bruce had been in Metropolis all day; he already knew how quiet and danger-free it had been.

"That's good," Superman acknowledged. He must have gotten the memo that Bruce wasn't going to ask him about his day because he didn't try to salvage the one-sided conversation.

Bruce returned his attention to the screens in front of him. On one of them, he could see a reporter talking about the police raid that had been done at a coffee shop in Moldova. Thanks to Wonder Woman and Green Lantern's intervention, they'd discovered it was a front for a small company trying to manufacture Kryptonite.

Bruce made another mental note to investigate the origins of this coffee shop. He also wondered if Green Lantern or Wonder Woman had the sense to collect a sample of the Kryptonite. It would be a good idea to test the substance in order to make sure it wasn't a new or modified kind of Kryptonite with different effects. As he mentally made a list of all the things he needed to do, Bruce suddenly noticed a rhythmic tapping sound that had overtaken the silence of the room.

Batman's focus switched from the monitors to Superman's fingers which were drumming against the desk. Bruce was about to tell Superman to cut it out when his gaze landed on a book on the edge of the desk. Superman must have been reading it before Bruce arrived.

As Batman, he should have reprimanded Superman for not paying attention during his monitor duty. But as Bruce, all he could think about was the fact that he recognized that book. He'd just seen it in a diner in Metropolis.

Bruce knew it was the same book because the handmade bookmark and the dog-eared pages were identical. What were the odds that Superman and the man named Clark from Metropolis were both reading the same battered copy of The Hobbit?

"Batman?" Superman suddenly asked, his head whipping around to look at Bruce. "Are you okay? Your heart rate just spiked."

He knew Superman, or should he say, Clark, was waiting for him to reply, but he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He needed to perfectly plan his response; the secret identity he'd spent so long protecting was at stake.

It was just hitting him how similar Superman and Clark looked. How had he managed to not be recognized over the years? It seemed like such a basic and risky disguise to only rely on glasses and differently coiffed hair. Was it really enough to conceal an identity as large and public as Superman's? Bruce was somewhat disappointed to admit that it did seem enough to fool others; until now, he'd been fooled as well.

But that wasn't entirely true. Bruce replayed his visit to the diner and how he'd felt sitting beside Clark. That nagging feeling he'd felt had been right. He had, on a certain level, recognized Superman. That explained why he felt so comfortable beside a "stranger".

It wasn't often that Bruce found himself admitting that he felt comfortable around someone other than Alfred. But then again, this also wasn't the first time that Clark had made Bruce feel things he didn't normally feel. Was it dangerous that Clark seemed to hold so much power and control over him?

Bruce focused his gaze on the man in question. He studied Clark's features. When had Superman gone from being Batman's tentative ally to someone Bruce felt comfortable around?

Bruce wasn't oblivious. As he studied Clark, he could tell that Superman knew something was wrong; Batman never took this long to answer a question. Clark would be suspicious and would probably be able to see right through any lies Bruce came up with if he tried to explain his sudden change in heart rate. But Bruce also knew Superman would be too polite to call out any lies he detected.

Bruce needed to decide, right here and now; did he trust Superman with his secret identity.

Yes, he thought with a strange amount of certainty.

"Batman?" Superman prompted again. He sounded slightly more panicked now.

"Did the diner always serve cheese on their apple pie or did you somehow convince Bridgette to add it just for you?" Bruce asked. He knew he was completely ignoring Clark's concern and question, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. It wasn't often that someone was able to catch Superman off guard.

The look of pure confusion that crossed Clark's face almost made Bruce laugh, but he had better self-control than that. He patiently waited for Clark to answer his question, staring the man down to encourage him to reply.

"What? Um, no, it's always been a staple on their menu, that's why I eat there every—" Clark stopped mid-sentence, cutting himself off. Bruce could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to process what was going on and what Bruce's question meant.

Bruce continued to wait, giving Clark the time to collect his own thoughts.

"Were you spying on me today?" Clark whispered even if they were the only two in the room. "But why? I thought you trusted the League now?" Clark asked, sounding hurt by Batman's betrayal.

But then Bruce saw the exact moment Clark remembered he hadn't gone to the diner as Superman. "Wait... You were the handsome man sitting beside me in the diner?" This time his voice rose as he realized exactly who Batman was.

Clark thought he was handsome? Bruce wasn't oblivious, he knew that others found him attractive; he often graced the covers of magazines as the "sexiest man of the year". But it had never crossed his mind he'd be faced with a scenario where Superman casually confessed that he found Bruce Wayne attractive.

The pair stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say now that their secret identities were out in the open.

As it seemed to be the theme tonight, Bruce had to correct himself. Once again, that statement wasn't entirely true. Clark knew what he looked like without his cowl on, but he hadn't seemed to recognize that he was Bruce Wayne. He could fix that.

"I'm not sure about handsome," Bruce replied, slipping into his persona's sultry voice. "I normally go by Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

Clark seemed to be trying to defy the laws of physics as his jaw dropped. "Wayne?" he stuttered as he placed the name to the face. "Dear Lord! Uh, I mean... I'm Clark Kent."

An alarm suddenly rang, forcing Bruce to bite his tongue; he'd just thought of the perfect response and it involved seeing just how much he could make Superman blush. Unfortunately, the sound had been an alert notifying them that Wonder Woman and Green Lantern had returned. That was Bruce's cue to leave.

He stood up, his cape fluttering around him at the sudden movement. Bruce could feel Clark's eyes on him.

"I'm off to find Wonder Woman," Bruce said. He normally didn't announce his intentions to others, but he didn't know how else to snap Clark out of his confused daze.

Clark suddenly rose from his seat, taking a few steps forward to chase after Bruce.

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

Despite Clark's lack of complete sentences, Bruce knew what he was trying to ask. Why would Batman suddenly reveal his identity? What changed? Did he now trust Superman?

Bruce wasn't entirely sure he knew how to answer those questions. Scratch that, he could answer them, but it only made sense in his head. He didn't know how he could voice his thoughts out loud to Clark. How did you tell someone you'd made an effort to not get close to that you now found their presence comforting? How could he explain the sudden realization that he not only felt comfortable around Clark but that he was also attracted to him?

It wasn't the time or place to get into any of that. And if Bruce was being honest, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to voice these feelings out loud.

So, for now, Bruce chose to go with the simplest version of the truth.

"When I saw you at the diner, I thought I knew you. And just now, I realized I don't know you. I know Superman, but not Clark. I thought it was time to change that."

"Oh," Clark replied thoughtfully before smiling softly at him. "Well, I'm glad you changed your mind. It's nice to meet you, Bruce."

I love these two idiots. Also, go listen to Have We Met Before by Sarah Barrios with Eric Nam since this series is inspired by that song. Honestly, the song is so good and I swear it's going to make the top five of my Spotify Wrapped this year.