Chapter One: Munkin
In answer to YJ_Anons_Meme prompt: Big bad turns Superboy into a teeny tiny 5 year old. Batman makes Clark, not Superman because Batman is awesome and wants Clark to spend time with his clone/son with-out Superman looming over their heads, babysit while he and Young Justice track down said Big Bad to try and fix it.
Cue awkwardness and cute!teeny-tiny-5-year-old!Superboy.
Bonus points if somehow Superboy confesses to Clark about how he thinks Superman hates him and Clark is all I can't resist the adorableness that is TeenyTiny!SB and hugs the kid and realizes what a jerk he's been.
Disclaimer: Characters and premise are the property of DC, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.
A man in loud plaid jacket with a tiny boy in a superman tee-shirt balanced on his hip stepped out of the elevator at the Daily Planet and casually scanned the bullpen. His gaze shifted to a leer as it landed on gossip columnist, Cat Grant. Cat eyed him distastefully as he made his way over to her desk.
"Hey doll, point me toward Kent's desk would ya?" he asked talking around a matchstick he was chewing on with the ease of long practice.
"Clark Kent?" Cat asked dubiously.
"That's the one," Matches confirmed. "Got something for him."
"He and Lane are at a press conference, he's not here," Cat said.
"I'm not blind doll. Just point me toward his desk and I'll be outta your hair." Matches said. "Can't be hanging around here all day, got urgent business ya understand?"
"I'm sure you could leave... whatever it is with security downstairs," Cat suggested. "In fact I'm sort of wondering how you made it past security in the first place?"
Matches just grinned at that. "Well doll, ya look trustworthy enough. Ya mind passin' 'im on for me?"
Practically before Cat knew what was happening the little boy was unloaded into her arms and his odd companion was headed back toward the elevators.
"Hey!" Cat protested. She held the boy as far away from her as possible, just in case the child was a carrier for dirt, snot or anything else that didn't mix well with designer clothes. "You can't just walk in here and hand over a kid!"
Cat's complaints didn't have an impact but a small, unhappy sound from the child stopped him cold. Matches took the boy back from a relieved Cat and sat him on a nearby desk then crouched down so that he and the boy were on eye-level. "Now kiddo, we talked 'bout this. I gotta go straighten out the situation, get things back to normal for ya." As he spoke he absently straighten the boy's clothes and ruffled his hair. "You're gonna stay with Kent. He's a good guy, knows Superman even. He'll keep an eye on ya 'til things get fixed up. 'Member ya said ya were okay with it."
The boy sniffled. "Don't like her," he pointed at Cat.
"Feeling's mutual," Cat muttered.
Matches scratched his head absently. "Eh, that is a problem. I was hopin' Kent'd be here." He looked around the room again. "Ya see anyone ya do like?"
The little boy looked around as well with huge sapphire-blue eyes. "He's got spots, like Wally," the boy declared as he pointed at Jimmy Olsen.
Matches nodded, he scooped the little boy up again, walked over to Jimmy's desk and dropped the boy in the red-head's lap. "That's for Kent," he informed the startled photographer. He fished Jimmy's press-pass out of his pocket. "See that the kid gets to him in one piece or things might get a bit dicey for ya... Olsen is it? Later."
"Bye-bye," the boy replied a bit mournfully. Jimmy could only blink in shock at the five-year-old perched on his knees.
"And there's another one of Superman catching Ms. Lane," Jimmy said.
"She falls lots," the little boy commented.
Jimmy ruffled his hair, "Don't you know it. Now don't tell anyone I said this, but I think she might just do it on purpose. Oh Ms. Lane was always the first one to go rushing in, but before Superman she didn't fall off of everything in sight."
"Now here's one of our last office party. That's CK in the background."
"What the Sam Hill is this!" Perry White shouted. "Am I running a newspaper or a day care!"
Jimmy cringed. The little boy sitting on Jimmy's lap glared up at Perry. "Mine! My friend! Don't scare him," he ordered.
"Well, er." Perry rubbed the back of his neck and stared at Jimmy's fierce, little protector. "He's not really scared of me, kid. I just yell, it's what I do."
"He's not mine, mine!" Jimmy was babbling. "I'm just watching him for CK."
"He's Kent's?" Perry's eyebrow spoke volumes about the likely-hood of Clark Kent having a kid appear out of nowhere.
"I'm mine," the scowling child contributed.
"Well, I don't think he's really Clark's, as in Clark's kid. This guy with a Jersy accent and a loud jacket brought him and said to give him to CK. Maybe he has something to do with a story?"
Perry studied the boy dubiously. "If we were talking about Lane? Maybe. But Kent? Hell, half the reason I hired him was to keep Lane from breaking too many laws chasing her story."
"We don't know kidnaping was involved," Jimmy protested.
"We don't know who the brat belongs to either," Perry said.
"I don't belong to no one!" the kid snapped.
Perry crouched down so he was on eye-level with the boy. "Let's get some formalities out of the way. I'm Perry White, I run this mad-house. Who are you?"
The boy made a zipping gesture. "Not supposed to tell," he declared.
"It's a secret?" Jimmy asked, widening his eyes comically. "Well, we've got to call you something." He glanced down at the emblem on the boy's shirt. "How about SB, for Superboy?"
The little boy's jaw dropped, he stared up at Jimmy in awe. "How'd you know? I didn't tell!"
Jimmy grinned, "I'm good like that. But if that's a your secret identity you'll have to tell me another name to call you."
"SB's okay," the boy said with an unhappy sigh.
"Well, I guess he can stay 'til Kent gets back," Perry decided. "But if Kent doesn't know where he belongs we're calling child services."
"I told you! I belong to me!" SB exclaimed stubbornly.
"And Olsen? Take him in my office and shut the door," Perry continued. "God knows what kind of language a kid like that'd pick-up around here."
Clark returned from the press conference to find the whole staff of the Daily Planet staring at him as soon as he walked into the room.
"Whatever you did, Smallville, I'm impressed," Lois declared.
Clark adjusted his glasses nervously. "But I didn't-"
"Kent!" Perry shouted. "There's a little something in my office that; by god; you'd better be able to explain!"
"Sir?" Clark asked.
"Just go!" Perry shouted.
With a feeling of impending doom Clark headed for Perry's office. Lois, Cat and Perry trailed after him, the rest of the room restrained themselves to goose-necking.
Clark opened the door. Perched in Perry's chair, feet dangling well off the floor, was a tiny blue-eyed boy with dark hair and a S-Shield tee-shirt. Jimmy, having run out of Superman pictures and stories, was looking around the room for inspiration with a faint look of desperation in his eyes.
Clark recognized the boy instantly. The resemblance to his own baby pictures was too strong for coincidence. Age-change aside the boy could only be his clone. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 'How many times have I told Bruce I'm not his father. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave he dumps this on me. At work, at Clark Kent's work place! Practically in costume! And he's my clone! There's no way to deny the resemblance! Can't imagine what he'd do to anyone who screwed with his identity like this.'
"Wouldn't wear anything without that?" Clark asked unhappily, with a nod to the S-Shield.
The little boy nodded his head adamantly.
"You do know him. Thank god," Perry said.
"He's my cousin's," Clark fabricated.
"The obnoxious guy with the match-stick fixation is your cousin?" Cat asked with an expression of disgust.
Clark winced, "Friend of her husband's," he explained, trying to distance himself from that particular persona of Batman's. He wondered what Cat would think if she ever learned she'd most likely just blown off Bruce Wayne.
The little boy hopped off Perry's chair and tugged on Clark's pant leg then presented him with a letter. Clark held the letter up near his face to read, the better to unobtrusively thwart Lois' efforts at reading over his shoulder. He needn't have bothered. Batman had written it, there was nothing incriminating for the casual observer to find. It said: "Something important came up. Can't bring the kid. Watch him 'til I get back. ~Matches P.S. Take a closer look." Clark slid his glasses down his nose and scanned the paper with his X-Ray vision. "Taking YJ to find de-aging cure. SB's power and memories intact. Emotional age is consistent with physical appearance. Due to deprivation, touch/taste impulses on par with a two-year-old's."
As Clark puzzled over that warning, Jimmy suddenly lunged for Superboy. Clark glanced up to see Perry's pencil sharpener giving off smoke. Superboy was sucking on his finger while Jimmy and Perry panicked.
"He just stuck it in! I couldn't stop him!" Jimmy exclaimed. "That guy's gonna kill me!" He peered into the pencil sharpener. "I don't see any blood," he sounded relieved and confused.
Perry was tugging futilely on Superboy's arm, trying to get a look at the boy's hand. "Strong little tyke," he grunted. "Maybe it broke before it hurt him?"
"Mean!" Superboy declared without taking his fingers out of his mouth. He glared at the pencil sharpener. "It bit me!"
Clark stared at the boy with dismay.