The Adventures of Batman and Superman
Disclaimer: Do not own; not making money off this.
A/N: Remember before you read this that this IS a parody. It is OOC and AU—well, kind of AU.
Dedicated to Sexy Ascot, the annoying Superman to my Batman! (;
Chapter One: NOT THE TUMMY!
"BRUCEY!" a chipper voice called throughout the Watchtower.
No, no, no.
He knows that voice.
Do I need to get a bell for him!
It's the voice that has been known to drive Bruce up the wall. The voice that almost makes him want to crawl under a rock for the rest of his life.
But Bruce never cowers.
This voice though—this unnaturally chipper voice!—has Bruce wanting to run away and never return.
It's the voice of Clark Kent, Superman.
"BRUCEY, BRUCEY, BRUCEY!"
Bruce groans and bangs his head on the table in front of him.
The man of steel belonging to the voice enters the room then, clad in his Superman outfit, hovering over the ground as he moves like he sometimes does to show off. Oh, sure. Bruce thought. Sure. Just continue to show off that you can defy gravity, like we all don't know that about you yet.
Clark had the annoying tendency to try to one-up him by bringing up the fact he could fly and Bruce was just a normal human.
Clark has a lot of annoying tendencies.
And Bruce has a feeling that this is going to be one of those days—the kind of days where Clark just can't help himself to go out of his way to annoy Bruce.
Just what he wanted.
One annoying Clark plus one aggravated Bruce equaled very bad outcomes.
Here we go again, Bruce thought sadly.
"BRUCEY!" Clark called again. "Are you ignoring me? Brucey, why? Come on, Bruce. You know you can't ignore me for too long." He nudged Bruce's shoulder. The nudge wasn't meant to be hard, but it had enough force to move Bruce a good six inches. "Bruce, Bruce, Bruce! BRUCEY? BRUCEY, HAVE YOU GONE DEAF? BRUCEY!" He was yelling now.
Right in Bruce's ear.
He actually hadn't been deaf, but he feared he might be before the day was over.
"I can hear you," Bruce snarled.
"Oh," Clark responded. "BRUCEY!" he threw his arms around Bruce's Batsuit-clad shoulders. "It's been too long since we've had a nice, good friendly talk between us two, old buddy, old pal!" he declared, his arms firmly planted around Bruce, despite his struggles.
Bruce growled in response. Where's the Kryptonite when I need it? He tried to get himself out of Superman's hold, but he was holding him too tightly. He was no match for super strength. Yeah. Kryptonite would be good right about now. Where's Dick? Maybe he has some.
Bruce had no idea why Dick would have Kryptonite, but it could happen. Bruce had learned to expect anything over the years.
"Why are you wiggling so much? Why can't you ever hug me back? Brucey, hug me back! Right now!"
"Absolutely not!" Bruce growled in response. "I do not hug! Especially not you!"
"Aw, that hurts my feelings, Brucey. Come on, just a little squeeze?"
"Get. Off. Me!" He growled in his fiercest 'Angry-Bats' voice. It didn't seem to faze Clark.
"Bru-u-u-cey," Clark sang in his ear, dragging out the syllables.
"Clark, for god's sake! Get off me!"
"Then I refuse."
"Say it," Clark sang in a sing-song voice. "Say it, Brucey, say it!"
"You're insane, you damn—"
"Ah, ah, ah. Don't swear. It's unbecoming."
"For god's sake—Damn it, Clark! Get off!"
"I'm still not hearing a please."
"You're about to hear something and it's not going to be a goddamn please."
"Ouch," Clark said. "Someone is grumpy. Are you grumpy, Brucey?"
"Ye—No! I don't get 'grumpy'!"
"Are you sure? You seem grumpy."
"Do I? Maybe it's because some idiot won't get the hell off of me!"
"You are extremely rude today. What's wrong with you?"
Stubbornly, Clark's arms remained tightly around Bruce. There was no way out of this, and he knew it. Sighing, Bruce muttered, "Clark, get off me. Please." The last word was snarled, but Clark appeared to accept it, as he finally let Bruce go.
"Was that so hard?"
"Finally!" Bruce exclaimed, and jumped up out of his seat. "You insane, annoying creature! Can't you just leave?"
"Aw, but I've missed you, Brucey!"
"My name is Bruce!" he growled fiercely.
"Wow. Someone is sure testy today. Women trouble?"
Bruce couldn't take it anymore. He snapped. He grabbed a batarang from his utility belt and flung it at Clark. "Shiny!" Clark cried when he saw it coming towards him, and Bruce took advantage of the distraction. He made a break towards the door, but a blur of red and blue beat him to it. Just before Bruce had reached the door, Clark stood in front of it, grinning like an idiot.
"Are we playing tag now, Brucey? Who's it?"
Bruce skidded to a stop. Yeah. Definitely need a bell for this one. And some Kryptonite.
An idea popped into his head. He wants to play tag, does he? Well. They'll play tag then. "Yeah, Clark. We're playing tag. I'm it."
"Oh! Okay!" And with that, Clark sped from the room, fast a lightning, giggling all the way.
Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. Finally. Sweet solitude.
Ten minutes of silence later, Bruce was standing in the Watchtower's monitor room, watching the screens with a blank look on his face. He wasn't very interested, but he wasn't disinterested either.
He was watching a bit too intensely though, as he didn't notice the blue and red blur come in.
Said blur whirled in front of him and poked him in the stomach. "You're it!"
The poke was meant to be soft, but it felt more akin to a punch to Bruce. It caught him so off guard that his breath hitched and he fell backwards.
In a moment of slightly panic and temporary insanity, Bruce declared, "Not the tummy!" in a high-pitched voice.
Both men's eyes flew open at the statement. Bruce was just as surprised as Clark that he had uttered such a thing.
There was a silence following Bruce's announcement.
For a moment and a half.
Then Clark burst into laughter.
A full out, belly-deep guffaw.
He took it too far when he started rolling around on the floor, unable to help himself. "You—said—tummy!" he panted between laughs.
Bruce glared. Hard.
He was sorely tempted to kill him right then and there.
And he never killed.
Clark seems to bring this side out of him a lot.
"I can't believe you just said 'tummy'!" Clark exclaimed a little while later, when his hearty laughter calmed down enough so he could talk.
Bruce grabbed Clark forcefully by his collar and pulled him close—so close that they were nose-to-nose. He glared hard into his friend's mirth filled eyes. "I swear, Clark, you mention this to anyone, and you'll never talk again. I will rip your tongue out and put it in a jar for all to see what happens to those who spread lies about Batman!"
"But it's not a lie."
Bruce snarled and pulled him an inch closer; glare hardening—if that was even possible. "Not a word, Clark Kent!"
Clark's eyes widened and he nodded furiously. "Got it. Sorry. Won't tell a soul."
"Not one. Got it. No problem."
"I mean it, Clark."
"I know. I won't. I promise."
"Good," Bruce said, and released the man of steel. Clark stepped back, forcing space between the angry Dark Knight and himself. That's one bat's buttons he definitely did not need to push anymore today. He liked his tongue very well, thanks.
"I'm going to bother Barry now!"
And with that, Superman was gone.
Bruce sighed in relief.
A/N: I hope you like so far! I had fun writing it, LOL. It's my second multi-chapter fic and I'm not the best at multi-tasking so bear with me on the whole updating thing! I'll try to update next as soon as I can!