How I Spent My Summer Vacation
By C. Leuch <leuch@iastate.edu>
Rated PG-13
Submitted July 2000

__________


COMMENTS:

If you haven't read my earlier story, "Dawn of Discovery," I would
recommend it.  It might help you with some characters and references.
This IS a fantasy world of mine, and in it, the legislators have seen the
light and lowered the drinking age to 18.

Note on my continuity: I assume everything in the show happens up to the
end of the second season (except HG Wells). That's where my continuity
breaks off.

As always, comments are welcome (leuch@iastate.edu). The usual
disclaimers apply. Enjoy!

***


My name is Samuel Clark Kent.  My friends call me Clark, my
family calls me CJ (since there is already a Clark Kent in the family),
and right now the scum of Gotham are calling me Robin.  Whatever they
call me, I'm still just me.  But who am I exactly, you're asking.  I
guess that's why I'm writing this - to answer that question.  That, and
I'm really bored right now casing this guy's hotel room - he hasn't been
here in twelve hours, and I have clear instructions not to go ANYWHERE
until he gets in, so here I am.  I figure that this is as good of a time
as any to start my memoirs - maybe someone will actually want to read
them at some point in time, I don't know.

I'm sure you're pretty curious about how I got to be on the roof
of the Gotham State Bank tower waiting for my as yet unnamed guy to get
to his room; and why I'm dressed as Robin, a character of local lore who
has been present in Gotham sporadically since before I was born.  Well,
I'll get to that.  It's an interesting story, really, but before I go
there, I think I'm going to tell you all about myself.  It will help you
understand a lot.

I was born in Metropolis on a beautiful spring evening in May of
1999.  My parents are Lois Lane and Clark Kent, reporters at the world
famous Daily Planet.  Oh, and my dad is Superman.  Don't get too shocked
- if you're reading this you probably know that already.  I'm the second
of three children - I have a brother, Jonathan Lane Kent, who is two
years older than myself, and a sister, Laura Emily Kent, who is five years
younger than me.  Laura was kind of a surprise and kind of not - I know
Dad always wanted a little girl, but Mom was beginning to think she was
getting a little old to be having many more kids by the time she came
around.  Oh well, they wouldn't trade her for the world.

I am six feet tall exactly and have medium brown hair.  I must
say, I don't look very much like anybody else in my family.  If I take a
good look at old pictures, I can see the resemblance to my Grandpa Lane -
he's taller than me though.  Heck, about everybody in my family is taller
than me except Mom.  I'd almost think I was adopted, but I have some very
good reasons to believe I'm not. I don't wear glasses like my dad and
siblings. I just never thought it would fly (no pun intended) as a
disguise for me, a guy who spends a lot of time in the locker room with
other guys.  It's not like I look enough like Superman to have it make a
difference.  Of course, nobody else in my family NEEDS to wear glasses,
either, but it works pretty well for them as a disguise.

Those are the statistics, but that doesn't really tell you much.
What was the family of Superman like?  Boringly normal, for the most
part.  We did the same things everyone else would do.  I'm sure your
imagination would tell you that we probably flew all over the globe,
courtesy of my dad, or that my dad would put on shows for us with his
superpowers or something.  Well, you'd be wrong - I didn't even know
about my dad until I was 14, and even then, we didn't make a big deal
about it.  When we went on family vacations, we drove in the car.  You
know all those scenes on TV that show a family crammed in a car rolling
down the interstate and the kids fighting with each other while the
parents seemed all exasperated in the front seat? THAT was my family.
You probably think that Superman would be an extremely strict parent.
You would be wrong on that one, too.  My dad was a real softie compared
to my mom, deemed the "drill sergeant" by me.  Of course, none of us
dared to call her that to her face.  I know now that Dad probably heard
every last thing we said about him and Mom, even when it wasn't said to
his face, but he wasn't hard on us.  Kids will be kids, after all.

Growing up, I liked math and science and I liked sports.  This
doesn't seem like a very normal combination, but it worked for me.  My
brother was always more interested in things like English and social
studies and the arts.  He joined band, I played football.  And I played
football darn well, too; well enough to make me a starter on the high
school team as a sophomore.  It earned me a scholarship to Metropolis
University, where I'll be a junior next fall.  I must say, even though a
lot of bigwigs on the team like me tend to be the typical "dweeb-hating
jock", you will never see me put down anybody with an interest in
academics - I probably fall in the "dweeb" category myself.  Right now
I'm on my "summer internship", but I digress.  I said I would get to that
later, and I will.

Reading what I have written, I noticed that I'm still dealing in
generalities.  I'm sure it's fascinating to read, especially if the
curious (read: "snoopy") type.  And I admit I'm not an English major by
any stretch of the imagination.  But maybe I should try to organize my
thoughts a little better, to relate some more specific stories and
anecdotes.  I'll stick to the most profound, for the sake of time.


HOW I LEARNED MY FATHER WAS SUPERMAN


Everybody in the family has a story on how they found out about
Dad.  Mom isn't really quick to relate hers to us kids, except to say
that it was wonderful and scary at the same time.  I suspect it was a
very private and emotional thing for both her and Dad, so I don't pry.
My brother told me how he found out once.  He was pretty traumatized by
it - he caught Mom and Superman in bed, I guess, and put two and two
together when Mom called Superman "Clark" in a fit of passion. Let me
just be the first to say that looking in on my folks IN BED is not
something I would ever imagine my brother doing, but I give him points
for admitting to it.  My sister just found out the family secret last
week, and I'm not really sure how that went down since I was here in
Gotham at the time.  The list goes on.

Myself, my journey to discovery of my dad's identity began the
summer when I was 14.  I was out playing soccer with my friends, and Jon
stayed at home to do his chores (Mom always gave us chores to do when her
and Dad were at work and we were at home by ourselves).  Anyway, I got
home after my game and Jon was vacuuming in the living room.  I walked in
the front door and around the corner and saw the couch suspended in
midair, supported only by my brother's left hand.  The WHOLE couch (it
had a hide-a-bed, so it was HEAVY) was being held at chest height by a
sixteen-year-old.  I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks, but I don't
think Jon heard me because he didn't react at all.  Besides, he was in
the process of vacuuming where the couch usually sat, and that vacuum was
pretty loud.  In any case, I snuck away, making sure that he didn't see
me.  Something fishy was definitely going on - I was sure I didn't see
any wires or hoists or any other way that the couch could POSSIBLY be in
midair besides the obvious - Jon was holding it.

From this point, I made it my own personal quest to see what the
heck was going on.  I followed Jon around, although he always seemed to
know I was there.  I didn't know how then (I do now).   Being the
scientist that I was, I figured that maybe science could help explain the
floating couch.  Instead of explaining it, science just magnified the
problem.  A couch made of denser material than air couldn't float, unless
maybe it was filled with helium or something, and even then it was highly
unlikely.  Finally, it boiled down to biology.  The only explanation was
that Jon was the son of Superman.  This could only happen if Dad was
Superman (yeah, right. I didn't see that as being an option), if Mom had
an affair with Superman, or if Jon was adopted.  I got to looking at Jon,
and he really did look a lot like Superman, only with glasses (and he
didn't get those until about six months earlier).  He also definitely had
Mom's eyes. The odd thing was that Jon also looked a lot like Dad, too.
After studying some pictures of Superman, I concluded that Dad also
looked a lot like Superman.  Strange.  But if Jon could do THAT to a
couch, he had to be a product of Mom and Superman, not Dad.

I decided that I had to talk to Superman and ask him what the
heck he did to my mom.  Plus I really wanted to know if Jon was his son.
Now, I could have asked Mom or Jon the same thing, but I could see them
giving the answer that they thought I wanted to hear.  Besides, how often
did you get to say that you'd met Superman? Arranging to meet him was a
problem, since it wasn't like you could give him a call on the phone or
anything.  He DID have appointments to keep, though - charity golf
outings, speaking engagements and hospital visits.  But all these were
highly publicized and I thought my chances of catching him alone at any
of these was slim to none due to the media, so I came up with another
plan.  It was devilishly simple: just stand somewhere and yell, "HELP!
Superman!"  Yes, I know, Superman could fly over and take one look and
see that I wasn't in trouble if I just stood in the street or something.
So I found a nice, tall building and made my way to the roof to do my
yelling. I had no intention of jumping off the building, I just wanted to
make it look like I was.

One weekend when I thought I was ready (and I could sneak out of
the house safely), I went to the top of the Metropolis Trade Tower, went
over to the edge (after jumping the fence around the observation area),
and yelled with all that was in me.  I was scanning the sky so hard that
I was very startled to hear Superman himself walk up behind me, sight
unseen - I was almost so startled that I went over the edge.  Almost, but
not quite.  Superman caught my shoulder and steadied me and cleared his
throat.  I whipped my head around to face him, and I almost laughed.  I
could tell that my dad was standing there, but I was SURE that he was
just dressing like Superman as a joke or something - after all, I hadn't
SEEN Superman fly in.  I know I was looking at him funny, and I said
something to him along the lines of, "Dad, what are you doing here
dressed like Superman?"  Naturally I was surprised when he picked me up
and took off into the air.  He was looking a bit embarrassed (there were
other people staring at us in the nearby observation area), but he also
looked pretty mad.  We landed on a deserted beach north of town and began
to talk. Well, I guess he talked and I gaped.  He asked what the heck I
thought I was doing and harped on about how I shouldn't have been up
there, etc.  I think he noticed my lack of a response because after a
while it turned into a staring contest.

Finally, I said, "Dad?"

"Yeah?" He said.

"You're...."  I said and pointed to the S on his Superman outfit.

"Yes I am."  He was looking at me with one eyebrow in the air,
his arms folded across his chest.

"OK, that explains a lot."  And it did - Dad always seemed to
disappear at weird times.  And Mom and Dad seemed to get a lot of
Superman stories at work (but not all of them).  Plus the reason why Jon
would be able to easily hoist a couch into the air was very clear all of
a sudden.  I suppose I should've been mad because he didn't tell me about it
sooner, but for some reason I wasn't.

Dad just stood there looking at me, his one eyebrow still cocked
and his arms still folded, not saying anything.  I think maybe he began to
grin a little bit, but it was barely perceptible.  All in all he looked
pretty intimidating, which in itself is not very characteristic - he was
NEVER as intimidating as mom (not even when he was dressed as Superman).
In any case, he was waiting for me to elaborate, so I decided to keep
talking.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you...." I said and pointed again to his
chest.

"Is that why you were leaning over the edge of the second tallest
building in Metropolis a moment ago?"  He asked.  I sensed a hint of
sarcasm in his voice.

"Well, it's not like Superman's phone number is listed."  I could
be sarcastic, too.  I don't think Superman/Dad appreciated that much
because he squinted his eyes a little bit and looked at me for a few
moments before continuing.

"Point taken.  However, in the future, I would like you to NOT
put yourself in jeopardy to get a hold of me."  Now, I could tell this
went beyond the point of sarcasm and was just being silly.  Leave it to
my dad to break the tension with hokey humor.  I rolled my eyes.

"I THINK I know where I can find you now."  He smiled, I smiled.
He came over to me and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Now, what did you want to ask your old dad?"

"Well, this is going to sound kinda dumb now because, well, my
question has already been answered." I was waffling now, and I know I was
blushing.  I could feel it in my cheeks. Dad just looked a little amused.

"Why don't you ask me anyway?"

"OK.  It's kind of a long question."  I began to look around for
someplace to sit down and found a couple of large boulders at the edge of
the beach and walked toward them.  Dad followed and we sat down before I
continued.

"The other day I got home and Jon was vacuuming.  Normally this
wouldn't be unusual, but I saw that he had lifted the couch about four
feet into the air with one hand." I was gesturing like I was holding up a
couch with my left hand.

Dad completed the thought for me. He obviously knew what was
coming next.  "So you thought that it might have something to do with me."

"Well," I said, "You have to admit that Jon does look a lot like
you, and by 'you' I mean Superman.  His hair is a little lighter and he
has the glasses now, but...."  I raised my eyebrows.

Dad made a bit of a "thinking" face and uttered a grunt.  Then he
gave a half-smile and shook his head.

"Jon just began to develop his strength very recently, and I
think he just got a little careless. I'm going to have to talk to him."
He said this while looking off into the distance.  It was almost an
offhand comment.  He looked at me, then and began to talk again.

"Speaking of which, I wonder...."  He stood up and gestured for me
to do the same.  "See if you can pick up that rock." He pointed to where
I was just sitting.  Naturally, I looked at him like he was crazy.  Being
my dad, he caught on to this and again told me to pick up the rock. So I
went over to it and wrapped my arms around it firmly.  I was half
expecting him to tell me to bend at the knees and not at the back when I
picked it up (like Mom always preached to us when we shoveled snow in the
winter), but Dad stayed quiet. I then lifted it (bending my knees like a
good boy, if you were wondering) and amazingly I was able to pick the
rock up. I did it easily, but not without at least a little bit of
effort.  I quickly put it down again and turned in amazement toward my
dad.

He was beaming at me.  "I guess that answers that question."

"How come I didn't know I could do that before?"  I asked.  I was
thinking of a dozen ways in which my new found skill could be useful.

Dad just shrugged. "I'm not a psychologist, but I think it was
just something that you didn't think about.  I bet if you think now,
though, you will find that you've always been able to easily do all the
physical things that all the other kids had trouble doing, and I bet you
always wondered why the other kids thought it was so hard."

He was right, of course.  I hadn't ever thought that I might be
able to things so much beyond what everybody else could do.

"Yeah, okay." I nodded my head slowly.

"We're going to have to have a talk about the responsibilities
that go with your strength and later with your powers."  Powers? I was
going to have powers? This was too much. "But we can do that later.  I
bet right now you just want to get home and think about it for a while."

He was right.  Again.  I had had a bit of a shock, although it
wasn't really bothering me that much.  I just needed to absorb it all.
We flew back home, and nobody else was there when we got back, so Dad
dished us up some ice cream and we talked.  Well, again, he did most of
the talking.  It was about him growing up in Kansas and what he went
through. It was pretty neat to hear.  He also told me about how Jon found
out and asked me more than once if I was OK with him being Superman.  I
told him I was fine, and I was.  I guess Jon had a lot of trouble
accepting who Dad was, but it all worked out OK for him in the end.

I think the reason that I didn't have any trouble with it was
because frankly, being the curious (snoopy) person I was, I had always
been a bit more observant.  I probably noticed things that Jon didn't
that made it very easy for me to equate Dad with Superman. Don't ask me
to go more in depth on that because, really, it was just one of those gut
feelings.  When I found out, then I knew and it made sense.

Anyway, that was the story about how I found out my dad was Superman.


THE SUPERPOWERS AND ADOLESCENCE


It was an interesting experience going through adolescence with
superpowers.  Of course, I don't know what it would be like to NOT go
through adolescence with superpowers, but I'm relating my experience to
what other people have told me (at school - not Dad or Jon. That would
defeat
the purpose).  Normal kids get acne and their voices crack.  My voice
cracks (I thankfully avoided the acne, although Jon wasn't so lucky) PLUS
I can all of a sudden see through things or set something on fire just by
looking at it.  At least I had a close relationship with my dad, and we
would go work out my new powers when I got them, making it safer for me
to be out among other people.  How many other people can say that
adolescence allowed them to get closer to their parents (as opposed to
the hormone induced rebellion that most kids go through)?

Now, I love athletics, and participated in them actively, even
after I developed my many talents.  It was a real challenge not to use my
strength once I learned I had it.  Stuff like soccer or hockey weren't so
bad - those are more finesse than power. And since I didn't (still don't
and probably never will) have superspeed, these weren't a problem with
these.  Baseball was OK - don't swing the bat too hard or throw the ball
too hard and that sport is fine. My first love is football, though, and
that one is laden with pitfalls for a super-powered individual.

When you're, say, a freshman in high school trying out for the
varsity football team, and you know you could probably bench press the
previous year's entire varsity squad, it gets interesting.  Of course, I
didn't let on to anybody how strong I really was - I just made myself out
to be a bit stronger than your average freshman guy and I ended up on the
team.  It wasn't anything that somebody might get suspicious about.
Actually, the philosophy I used then is the same one I use now at
Metropolis U. - basically, I play defensive line, and all you have to do
is make a good imitation of a brick wall, maybe do some pushing, run in
and tackle the quarterback sometimes for good measure.  It doesn't take
any exceptional effort. If you go up against some of these behemoths,
like those corn-fed giants they have at Nebraska, then a 200 something
pound guy like me has to make it look like I'm getting pushed around at
least a little in order to keep up appearances and not raise suspicions.
The fact that a guy my size can do so well on the line at all does raise
some eyebrows, but I don't let that bother me - I HAVE seen stranger
things in the real world. But I won't go into that here.

There is more to life than football, believe it or not.
Adolescence is also the time in a man's life where he begins to develop
facial hair.  For the men with my lineage, shaving is interesting.
Instead of using a razor (it wouldn't work - we are invulnerable), we
bounce our laser vision off of a mirror and burn off the stubble. It's
pretty cool to watch, but it's kind of hard to get a handle on. The same
goes for cutting hair - scissors won't work, so you have to laser burn
that, too. Would you believe that I had to go the library and read hair
styling books?  It was like torture for a testosterone junkie like
myself, but I understand that Dad didn't want to get stuck cutting my
hair all the time.  He had to learn, so why shouldn't I?  I usually keep
it easy on myself and go for the buzz cut look.

Speaking of the whole invulnerability thing, that was
interesting, too.  I didn't realize this until I thought about it, but I
stopped getting cuts and scrapes by the time I was ten.  It's not for
lack of trying - I fell down often enough, I just always thought that I
was doing something different to not hurt myself. I didn't question that
at all.  I was never in any big accidents, either, so that helps.  Sure,
okay, I fell out of the tree house when I was twelve and didn't break any
bones.  Again, I chalked that up to luck.

If you took a good look at my adolescent life after I discovered
my heritage, it would become evident that I made a habit of hiding myself
and what I could do. The only time I could truly be myself was around my
family, and even then my little sister didn't know the secret.  We had to
be discreet because of her and because we didn't want to make a habit of
using our powers casually.  Hiding that much of yourself can make you
crazy after a while, and I can understand why Dad likes going out and
being Superman. Granted, you are still hiding a large part of yourself
(namely, your personality) then, too, but at least you get to use your
powers. It would be very easy to become schizophrenic under these
circumstances, but thankfully everyone in my family turned out okay. I
think I am closest to the edge, though, because of the situation with my
particular set of powers.

Let me elaborate a bit more.  When two people get together and
have children, they each give the child half a set of genes, and those
two halves combine to make a whole person (and that's the VERY simplified
version of genetics).  The same is true for Superman, so naturally his
children wouldn't have EVERYTHING that he does.  That goes for powers,
too, apparently.  So far, both me and my brother are missing two powers,
and in both cases these powers are related.  Jon doesn't do the hot/cold
thing: no heat vision or cooling breath. Big deal. I don't fly or have
superspeed.  Those are the two that, beyond a lot of other things, makes
Superman particularly "super".  Think about it - if he were just really
strong, invulnerable, and could shoot laser beams out of his eyes (plus
the super senses, but the public doesn't really get to see that in action
a lot), it would be a lot less impressive.  This is what I'm faced with.
It's a relatively new development - the flying thing would have happened
a year or two ago if was going to, and it hasn't.  Now, I'm not bitter
about the situation, don't get me wrong.  It's just that, in my current
employment, which will probably end up being my "night job" after
college, I can't even use the powers I have. It just brings up too many
possible problems. I'll elaborate later.

Now that I've brought up the employment, maybe I should just stop
the suspense and get right to it:


WHY I'M IN GOTHAM CITY


I already mentioned that I will be a junior at Metropolis
University this fall.  I didn't tell you my future career goal, though: I
want to be a forensic scientist.  In my ideal scenario, I am a guy with a
badge and a chemistry set, busting the bad guys through science.  Of
course, reality is a far different thing, and most police departments
have independent labs do most of their scientific testing.  It's too bad,
too, because I really wanted to be a cop. Maybe I still can be a cop, or
at least, someone who makes arrests. I can be Batman.

Again, don't be shocked.  Due to the lack of "super" superpowers,
I really shouldn't conduct my after hours activities as a Superman. Face
it, I would feel...inadequate. I would have to make up some totally
different superhero and appear in Metropolis, but it would be hard to
disassociate myself from Superman, which I would have to do in order for
the ruse to work.

Maybe you're confused. I'm sorry about that - some things you
take for granted after being around them for a long time. Let me
elaborate.  What is Superman's costume?  He wears a red, blue, and yellow
spandex suit. No mask. Therefore, there is no reason to believe he is
anybody other than who he says he is.  We all know that he really is
somebody else, and he can accomplish the deception by, well, putting on a
pair of glasses.  He also does his hair differently and behaves
differently when not in costume.  But like I said earlier, nobody would
suspect that Superman would have an alternate identity just because he
doesn't hide ANYTHING.  I mentioned that I don't wear glasses, so in
order to keep my identity a secret, I would have to wear a mask when
doing hero stuff.  I couldn't exactly do this and wear the "Superman"
name because then people would know that Superman does indeed have
something to hide, an identity to protect, and that wouldn't be good for
my family.  So you can see now why I would have to create another
identity.  Fortunately, I was saved from having to do this by good timing.

Heroes from different cities tend to keep to their own areas, but
every now and then they have an occasion to wander into each other's
territories.  The year before I was born, Superman and Batman, Gotham's
elusive and dark hero, met.  Batman was visiting Metropolis for some
reason, and of course my dad spotted him during his patrols and he
dropped down to chat. They got friendly and, long story short (and this
particular how-we-met story is VERY long - it can take my dad HOURS to
tell it) they found out each other's identities. Batman is Bruce Wayne,
millionaire playboy of Gotham and, deep down, an emotionally disturbed
guy. Bruce is about 15 years older than my dad and, as such, is right now
rapidly approaching retirement age.

Middle age is not a good time to be crawling across the roofs of
Gotham chasing thugs and madmen, and Bruce knows this.  He will soon be
giving up his night job, and he needs a replacement. This is where I come
in.  My dad was talking to Bruce the summer before I left for college and
just happened to mention my career interest and possible problems being a
superhero in Metropolis to him. This started the wheels turning, and
eventually he offered me the job. Kinda. Actually, the conditions are
that I would intern under him during my summers (and the intern is Robin.
Now you know), and if he was satisfied, I could take over for him.

Now you ask, why me? There have been other Robins before my
little internships.  Truthfully, these past Robins really didn't want the
job.  The first Robin was Richard (Dick) Grayson, now Nightwing. He has
built up a reputation over the years as his current identity, and he
really doesn't want to give that up. The second Robin was Jason Todd, and
he died on the job many years ago. The third Robin was Tim Drake.  After
he graduated from high school he moved away from Gotham and established a
life and a family of his own where he is, and he doesn't want to
sacrifice that to be Batman. I can understand that. I think, considering
all this, Bruce was really happy that I came around, otherwise there was
probably a very good possibility that the Batman would retire along with
Bruce Wayne.

So I have been on summer internships since entering college.
Last year, my first, I was shipped off to study martial arts in Hong
Kong. This was pretty neat in many ways.  My dad has told us kids stories
about the years he traveled the globe after college, and I have always
envied him a little for that.  So now I've done a little globe traveling
myself, and I'm happy.  Anyways, during my stay in Hong Kong, I learned a
few different martial arts, the point of which was to focus my mind (a
thing I do only when I'm working - otherwise I'm as unfocused as the next
20-year-old guy) and train me for hand-to-hand combat. Yes, I am super
strong, but these arts teach you to focus that power into more efficient
movements.  After going through this training, I'm of the opinion that my
brother should also take some martial arts courses. I mentioned this to
my mom and she agreed with me wholeheartedly.

This is my first summer actually spent in Gotham.  I got into
town three weeks ago, and I've been living in a set of rooms at Wayne
manor. I even have my own phone line.  The first week I was here we did
nothing but practice using the bat tools he has - and let me tell you,
there are a ton of them.  Grappling hooks, lines, batarangs, pellets,
radios, transmitters, other electronic toys, gliders.  If this guy wasn't
rich, he would NEVER be able to finance Batman.  I really didn't have any
problems learning to use the toys, and anymore I've really begun to like
them.  The hooks and swing lines allow me to fly over the city in my own
way.  The pellets and batarangs and dark suit allow me to substitute
stealth for superspeed.  Face it, Dad's costume doesn't really let him be
too incognito (and it's not supposed to).  Of course, my super senses
come in handy, too. The problem is, I can't use the laser vision or super
strength as Robin because, well, that's just not something normal people
do. And again, it would raise too many suspicions. Bruce has been helping
me think of way to use them when I become Batman, though - maybe he could
drop hints that he's designing a new suit with circuitry that would make
Batman very strong or would let him shoot lasers from around his eyes.

"Work" has consisted of doing research for Bruce during the day,
while he's at work over at Wayne Enterprises, and of donning the Robin
suit at night and doing his bidding.  So far, this has mostly been
surveillance (such as right now), although I got to go along with him
once or twice when we rumbled with the bad guys. THAT was fun. Too bad I
don't get to do it more. It's not that Bruce is keeping me away, it's
just that after so many years of Batman patrolling the city, the criminal
element has wised up and stays away from the Batman more times than not.
There aren't even any really bad guys left to fight anymore, either -
your Jokers and Penguins and Two-Faces of the world have been beaten long
ago, and possible future criminals have wisely decided on different
career choices. Because, face it, Batman WILL get you.

So here I am, on another night of surveillance, looking through
the window of a hotel waiting for this guy to get home....


***


The sound of a swoosh and a thud behind him caught Robin's
attention.  *I know THAT sound all too well,* he thought.  Closing his
notebook and slipping it back into the large pouch on his utility belt
along with his pen, he turned around and smiled.

"Hey, bro.  I wasn't expecting you to come calling until tomorrow."

The Crimson Superman smiled back and ran his hand through his
hair.  "Well, I checked into the hotel and got bored, so I figured I'd
visit.  I called over to your place but you weren't there, so I thought I
could find you the old-fashioned way. I didn't expect to only have to go
across the street. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're spying on
me."  He had a twinkle in his eye that told Robin he was kidding around.
Robin turned away from the young Superman to face the hotel again.

"Oh, ha-ha. I thought that maybe the Planet would put you up in
someplace a little less pricey.  Don't they usually shove the rookies to
places called 'The Cozy Motel' or something like that?"  School had only
been out for less than a month, but CJ missed the bantering with his
brother.  Bruce just wasn't the type who you could tease and get away
with it. Besides, he was never around.

"Well, they tried to make reservations, but there was a Harley
convention in town and the Cozy Motel was all booked up.  It's too bad,
too, because I was really looking forward to getting closer to nature.
The mice and roaches don't like my place back in Metropolis too much, for
some reason."

CJ chuckled and shook his head. Jon walked over to where CJ was
sitting and stood next to him.

"So what are you doing up here?" Jon asked.

"Oh, there is this guy who is orchestrating an insurance scam.
I'm waiting for him to get back to his hotel room so I can spy on him a
little bit.  He is in the middle of a trail against the insurance
company, which just happens to be owned by Bruce, claiming he should be
collecting disability payments for injuries supposedly received on the
job.  Bruce doesn't think there is anything wrong with him, so I'm
supposed to take a few pictures of him doing things that an injured guy
shouldn't be doing, and then we'll have him."  CJ/Robin sighed.  It
wasn't exactly what he would call a job for a superhero.

Apparently Jon/Crimson Superman thought the same thing.  "Since
when did your job description change to private detective for hire?" he
asked.

CJ made a bit of a face. "Since Bruce said it did. He IS paying
to have me around, might as well keep me busy.  It's been kind of slow on
the crime front lately."

"Well, hopefully that story I'm here for can change that."

"So you said on the phone."  CJ had been glad to hear that the
Planet was sending Jon out to Gotham to work on an investigation.  It was
going to be his first big story.  It would be shared with Mom and Dad, of
course - there were investigations going on in Metropolis, too.  CJ
didn't really know what exactly the story was supposed to be yet, but he
suspected he would be finding out soon.

Suddenly, the light in the room CJ was watching flicked on.

"I wish I could stay and chat some more, but I have to take care
of this. Shouldn't take too long."  CJ reached for the line on his belt
at shot it at the hotel across the street.  It caught on the roof ledge,
and he used it to swing over.

"Do you need any help?" Jon called after him.

"Nah, I got it," CJ said from mid-air.  He hit the side of the
hotel with his feet, several stories above the room he was looking at. He
rappelled down so that he was next to the room window and stared through
the wall, waiting for the man to do anything incriminating.  After a few
minutes, he saw what he was looking for and swung over to the window,
pulling a camera from his belt while doing so.  After snapping a few
pictures through the window, he secured the camera and climbed the line
up to the roof.  While he was rewinding his line, Jon flew over and
landed next to him.

"Done?" Jon asked.

"Mission accomplished."

"So what were you planning on doing for the rest of the night?"

"Weeeell...." CJ looked over at his brother and gave him a
mischievous grin.  "Maybe I can show you what a good time can be had
around Gotham after hours."

Jon rolled his eyes. Some things never changed. "Why am I not
surprised?"

CJ lifted his glove and glanced at his watch. It was only 10 PM.
Bruce didn't have anything else for him to do tonight, and Batman was
staying in tonight, so he wouldn't have any need for Robin's assistance.
Ignoring Jon's comment, CJ spoke again.  "I need to go back and change.
I brought the motorcycle.  You can either follow from above or meet me at
Wayne manor in 45 minutes."

"I think I'll just follow. I've always wanted to see the famous
Batcave, anyways."

"OK, then."  CJ dropped over the edge of the building and snapped
the glider wings on his cape into place.  He glided down to street level,
about 30 stories down, landing softly.  The motorcycle was stashed in a
nearby alley.  He drove back to the cave, Jon hovering well overhead.
The Batcave was deserted when CJ entered, well, except for the many bats
that clung to the ceiling.

Jon received the full tour, and he was duly impressed.  The many
trophies of Batman's conquests throughout the years were displayed, along
with the costumes previously used by Batman.  CJ really didn't know a
whole lot about most of these things. He made a mental note to get some
stories out of Bruce before he left in August. The two brothers chatted
about CJ's experiences with Batman thus far as they ascended the stairs.
CJ had removed his Robin costume upon entering the cave and was now
wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts.

"I would love to take a tour of the mansion sometime, too," Jon
said as they opened the door that led from the cave into the foyer of
Wayne Manor. "I bet it's full of all sorts of great old stuff."

"It's a regular antique stockpile, alright," CJ said dryly. It
was like living in a museum. Half of the house wasn't used at all, but it
was dusted once a week by the housekeepers and kept looking nice,
anyway.  Fortunately for CJ, his suite was normal, having been lived in
by the Robins who came before himself. They had had pretty good taste in
furnishings, sticking to more contemporary and, really, more useful
furniture.  "Bruce could probably show you around sometime, but beware:
this place is huge. It would take hours."

"Well, some other time, then."  Jon took in as much as he could
as they made their way though the corridors of Wayne Manor. CJ led him to
a door that was sitting ajar with light streaming through it. He knocked,
which was followed by an invitation to enter from the man inside.  The
room they entered was an enormous library, rivaling some public libraries
in size. In the middle of the room was Bruce Wayne, sitting at a large
oak desk.

"Clark, good evening.  I see you brought a guest." Bruce stood as
the brothers approached him.  He held out his hand toward Jon. "Hi, I'm
Bruce Wayne."

"Jon Kent." Jon took Bruce's hand and shook it.  He was still
dressed as Superman, he realized, but Bruce knew the family secret, so it
was okay.  Jon regarded Wayne closely.  He had expected the man who was
Batman to be a big, solid guy, maybe six and a half feet tall.  What he
saw was somebody who was almost identical to CJ in size and stature.
Wayne's eyes, Jon felt, were his most endearing feature. They blazed with
intelligence - he could tell that not much got past this guy.  Jon smiled
a little nervously. "Ah, nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Bruce said with a pleasant smile. They
all sat down to chat.  "So Jon, I heard you were coming to town, but I
didn't expect you until tomorrow."

Jon had planned all along to include Bruce in his impending
investigation, and had even set up a meeting with him for the next day.
"I was in town and bored so I looked for CJ here," Jon said.  "I thought
if anybody could keep me entertained, this was the guy."

"So I've heard," Bruce said. He turned quickly to CJ, his face
becoming more serious and the pleasant tones dropping from his voice.
"Did you finish the job?"

"Yeah. The film is developing in the machine. He is as good
as finished."

"Excellent," Bruce said, the smile returning to his face. Jon
remembered his dad saying something about how serious Bruce could be when
he got to working. He thought maybe he had seen a hint of that when he
had spoken to his brother just then, but it seemed to have evaporated
quickly.  His pleasant side was nice, although Jon didn't see evidence of
the kind of laugh and smile lines around his mouth and eyes like he saw
on his dad's face. He suspected that Bruce didn't smile a whole lot.

CJ popped up out of his chair and faced Bruce. "I'm going to go
change." He looked at Jon. "Maybe you should, too."

"Eh, I'll do it on the way out. It'll only take a sec."

CJ shrugged. "OK. I'll be right back. You two have fun." He
walked out of the room, leaving Jon alone with Bruce.

Jon and Bruce talked about Jon's new jobs in Metropolis, about
how the superhero thing was going, and about how his father was.  Any
apprehension that Jon had at the thought of being in Bruce Wayne's
company quickly melted away.  Jon and Bruce were bantering like old pals
by the time CJ returned, dressed to impress.

"We're going out to experience the night life here in Gotham," CJ
told Bruce as he approached them again.

Bruce raised his eyebrows in mild amusement at this. "The real
night life in Gotham has the night off."

"And I am VERY grateful, let me tell you," CJ said, appreciating
one of Bruce's rare light moods and milking it for all it was worth. "Do
you suppose we could...."

"Take the Mustang," Bruce said with a wave of the hand. "Have a
good time. Enjoy your time out - I suspect things will be pretty busy
starting tomorrow." He looked directly at Jon as he said the last part.
Jon had the impression that Wayne knew more about their upcoming meeting
than he let on.  Jon just nodded and quickly turned to follow his brother
out of the room.

"I will treasure this rare moment of freedom. Thanks!" CJ said
over his shoulder.  A brief gust of wind as they made their way back into
the hallway signaled that Jon had changed clothes. "Looking good, bro,"
CJ said with a smile.

"Have I ever NOT been looking good?" Jon asked, batting his
eyes mockingly.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"  The two reached the
garage quickly, and upon entering, found the Mustang among the twenty or
so other cars.

Jon whistled in amazement at the sight of all the cars. Some of
best automobiles in the world were housed here - Porches, Mercedes, BMWs,
a Rolls Royce, a Prowler. The Mustang almost seemed dumpy in comparison.
"Nice! I sure wish I were rich."

"Don't we all. Come on, lets go." CJ climbed into the driver's
seat, Jon climbed in the passenger door. With a squeal of tires, the two
set out.


***


Jon and CJ entered a popular nightclub in the campustown area
around Gotham State University.  Even though most of the students had
left for the summer, the club was still relatively full of people.  It
was your typical student hang-out: the furnishings were a little worn
around the edges from heavy use.  A warm, well-stocked bar lined the rear
wall, with bottles of every sort of liquor stocked on the shelves behind it.
The
layer of cigarette smoke that hung near the ceiling obscured the neon of
various beer signs hanging on the walls.  Televisions were mounted on the
walls around the room, showing various baseball games and the basketball
playoffs.  Pool tables and dart boards were clustered near the entrance.

The two brothers found a table close to the bar and sat down.
Jon mused that this was just CJ's type of place - the music was loud,
several single women sat at the bar, and several sports were being shown
simultaneously on TV.  Jon offered to get drinks, and he approached the
bar to order. Just as the bartender set the beers in front of him, he
heard his name being called.

"Jon? Jon Kent?"  Jon looked around and found the source sitting
two barstools away. Recognizing her immediately, he momentarily abandoned
his drinks and addressed her.

"Oh my gosh, Jenny! How are you? What are you doing here?" He
approached a brunette and gave her a big hug.

"Oh, I'm great. I'm working at the Gotham Gazette for my summer
internship. How about you? I heard you graduated."  They released each
other.

"Oh, I did. I'm here visiting my brother." Jon motioned in the
general direction of their table.

"Hey buddy!" the bartender yelled at Jon. "You want these or
what?" Jon regretfully took his attention away from his friend and
addressed the bartender.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." He paid the bartender and claimed his beers.
"So," he said, facing Jenny, "why don't you come over and sit with us? We
can talk."

"I'd love to!" she said, following him over to the table.  CJ was
thoroughly engrossed in the basketball playoff game as Jon approached. CJ
sensed his coming and spoke, not looking away from the TV. "Took long
enough - I bet the beer is getting warm! Did you get lost?" he asked.

"Ah, no," Jon said as he sat down. CJ realized that there was
somebody else sitting down next to Jon. Curious, he brought his attention
back to the table. What he saw made him stop cold.

Jon was accompanied by the most gorgeous women that CJ had ever
seen.  And CJ had seen a lot of women. Some made it their point to go
with every guy on the football team. Others were ones he found at the
bar, lonely. Still more he met around campus.  CJ tended to consider
himself a bit of a playboy, although none of the relationships he got
into ever went anywhere.  Even so, this woman with Jon...wow.  He didn't
know what it was.  Her flowing brown hair seemed to frame her oval face.
Her eyes were a vibrant green, and glowed with warmth and happiness.  She
was thin but not overly so, wearing a flattering dress that, at the same
time, didn't give too much away.

CJ was aware that he was staring, so he forced himself to tear
his eyes away from Jon's companion. He felt a touch of jealously for his
brother, who had brought this woman to his table.  He also felt slightly
embarrassed for his behavior. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself
quickly and looked back toward his brother. Jon had an amused look on his
face. The brunette didn't seem to be effected by CJ's unusual behavior.

Clearing his throat, CJ opened his mouth to speak. "Jon, who is
your friend?"  CJ was aware that his voice was a little deeper than it
normally was.  This only seemed to add to Jon's amusement.

"This," he said, "is Jenny Sears. We worked together at the
campus paper last year.  She's a journalism major at the U. of
Metropolis."  Jon turned to face his companion. "Jenny, this is my
brother...."

"Clark Kent, ah, junior," CJ interrupted Jon in mid sentence. He
thrust his right hand in her direction, still desperately avoiding
looking at her, for fear she might think he was staring at her.  As she
took his hand, he took a chance and looked her way.

As their eyes met for the first time, the world seemed to stop
altogether.  CJ became very aware of her soft hand in his, and of the
strange energy that seemed to be flowing through that hand.  Her eyes
seemed to speak to him, bore into him. All of a sudden CJ wanted to know
everything there was to know about this woman. He didn't want to let go
of her hand - what he really wanted to do was raise it up to his lips and
kiss it.

The smile on Jenny's face faded, even as the smile in her eyes
lingered. CJ felt her hand slipping out of his. A blush began to form on
her cheeks as she shyly cleared her hair away from her face with her free
hand.  Their eyes remained locked together, and Jenny softly said, "Nice
to meet you." Finally, they were no longer touching. This seemed to break
the spell, and they both suddenly blinked and looked away.

Jon's amused smile had turned more alarmed.  When CJ and Jenny
took hands, he could feel the mood change.  The playful atmosphere at
their table turned very serious all of a sudden, and Jon didn't know if
he liked it. He had a bad feeling, though.  CJ and Jenny were looking
anywhere but at each other when Jenny finally spoke.

"Jon, you never told me you had a brother before today."  No, Jon
didn't like where this was going. He decided to play it lightly, though.

"Oh, I thought I had." Jon looked at Jenny, who began to stare at
the baseball game on the TV over the bar. "Not that we had a lot of time
to talk about our personal lives at the paper."  Jon looked at CJ now,
who was staring into his beer.

"Mmm," was Jenny's only reply.  An uncomfortable silence fell
over the table. Jon struggled to start a conversation.

"You know, CJ, Jenny is doing her internship in Gotham this
summer, too. What a coincidence!"

Jenny looked a little startled when Jon spoke. "CJ?" She looked
questioning to Jon.

"My dad laid claim to the name 'Clark Kent' before I ever came
around.  He's the only one my family calls Clark. So they call me CJ." CJ
said somewhat timidly. Jenny nodded, still avoiding CJ's eyes.

"So what do you prefer to be called?"  she asked, softly, with a
hint of something deeper than just curiosity in her voice. It was like
music to CJ's ears.

"You can call me Clark. All my friends do," CJ replied, his voice
deep with longing. The tension was beginning to drive CJ crazy, so he
decided to change the subject to something a lot less dangerous. He
nodded to the TV carrying the baseball game that Jenny was again staring
at.  On it, the Gotham Knights were playing the Chicago Cubs. "You a big
Knights fan?"

"Not really. I do like the Cubs." She snorted as the hitter for
the Knights singled up the middle, driving in a run.  "Their bullpen
always seems to give up games, though."

"Give their starting pitchers some credit - they blow their fair
share of games, too," CJ countered.

"The team can usually get enough runs to cover their starters,
though." Jenny was beginning to get animated. "It's hard to come back
when the other team gets ahead of you in the late innings."

"You'd think after so many years of bad pitching, the Cubs GM
would get a clue and acquire some decent pitching,"  CJ said, his voice
becoming more confident.

"You said it," Jenny said.  "Hitting never seems to be a
problem...."  Jenny kept talking, facing toward the TV, but CJ wasn't
listening. He was staring at her again, thinking about how amazing this
woman was. *She's beautiful and she knows sports! I think I'm in love.*
This last thought caught CJ by surprise.  Sure, he felt like he had been
hit by lightning when he first saw her, but love? He'd never been in love
in his life! His girlfriends were all...infatuations. Nothing deep. *Love,
bah!* his inner self countered, *you are in LUST, my boy, nothing more.*

Jon had watched as the two talked sports, following the
conversation back and force like a tennis match. Jenny was speaking now,
but he saw a telltale goofy grin spread across his brother's face.
Almost subconsciously, he reached across the table and slugged CJ in the
upper arm. This seemed to do the trick, drawing CJ out of his trance, and
he tossed a dirty look at Jon.  Jon countered with his
what-the-heck-do-you-think-you're-doing look. He then nodded his head
toward Jenny, who was still talking about the Cubs.  Figuring he made his
point as he watched CJ's face turn red, Jon took a long, triumphant swig
of his beer.

Meanwhile, Jenny finally ran out of steam.  The baseball
conversation had helped to loosen her up after her initial encounter with
CJ, and now she was more than willing to bring her attention back to the
table.  Now that her mind was on sports, she looked at Jon again. "Say,
don't you play on the football team?" she asked him.

After being so rudely brought out of his earlier reverie, CJ
decided once and for all that if he was going to get though the night, he
was going to have to control himself.  He mentally transposed the face of
his sister onto this Jenny Sears, torturer of his soul.  That being done,
the rest of the night went incident free. The trio played darts and had a
few more beers.  As they prepared to depart for the night, CJ purposely
let his defenses slip down. He really didn't want this night to be the
last night he saw Jenny.

Jon gave her a final embrace as he climbed into the passenger side
of Bruce's 2010 Ford Mustang.  CJ began to extend his hand toward her,
but remembering what happened the last time they touched, he withdrew it
again.  She caught this gesture and seemed relieved when he withdrew.  CJ
reached into his wallet and withdrew a business card at random.

"Do you have a pen?" he asked Jenny.  She looked a little puzzled
at first, but seeing the card in his hand, she understood and fished a
pen out of her purse.  CJ accepted it, deliberately avoiding her touch.
On the back of the business card, he wrote his name and phone number.

"Give me a call if you want to go to a Knights game sometime," he
told her, extending the card and pen in her direction.  She smiled and
took them.

"I will," she said lightly. CJ felt joy surge up within his body.
The smile that he wore could light up even the largest room - it almost
knocked Jenny off her feet.

"Well, goodnight then," CJ said. Jenny just nodded, unable to say
anything.

CJ climbed into the driver's seat. Before pulling the car out of
the stall, his eyes met hers again.  They spoke volumes to each other
without saying a word. It was understood that they would see each other
again.  CJ blinked, shook his head, and drove off into the night.


***


As they pulled away from the bar, Jon looked over at his
brother.  The look shot toward him almost made CJ laugh, but he
refrained.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Jon asked.  CJ's
behavior that night had been erratic at best - at least he managed to
pull himself together enough for them to have a good evening.  For a
while after he introduced CJ to Jenny, Jon was sure that he was going to
be a third wheel.

CJ made himself look as innocent as he could. "Gee, I just don't
have any idea what you could possibly be talking about."

Jon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Spill it."

"Well," CJ smiled boyishly, "I must say, I like your friend."

"I figured as much. So define 'like'." Jon knew that CJ had
"liked" a lot of women since he arrived at college.  He had brought a few
of them over to their apartment for supper (and more?) a few times. But
Jenny, she was Jon's friend, and he didn't want to see her getting hurt.

"You know...." CJ shrugged.

"Come on, CJ. You take a look at her and it's like you're a deer
in the headlights.  Then you act all weird for a while, talk sports - and
I KNOW you only talk sports with girls when you're nervous - and then you
act like she's some old friend that you have no attachment to.  I've seen
you're pick-up routine before and this definitely didn't follow the
pattern. So what gives?"  Jon felt like he was playing the stodgy older
brother.

CJ sighed and shook his head.  "This wasn't the old routine, let
me tell you. I wasn't looking to pick anybody up tonight. It's just...when I
saw her, it's like the earth stopped." CJ glanced at his brother.  The
serious tone in CJ's voice, the complete lack of mischief or humor meant
that something really did happen to him. Jon recalled a conversation he'd
had with his father when he was in high school. Jon had asked him if he'd
ever
had that sensation, like earth stood still. "It's that way every time I
look at your mother," he had said. Jon knew it now definitively - CJ was
doomed.

CJ turned back toward the road and continued. "I had to act
detached or else I was going to jump all over her."

"Thank you for that, then. So, are you going to see her again?"
Jon asked, trying to hide his apprehension.

"It's up to her. I gave her my number," CJ said, still serious.

"Well, treat her good. She's my friend."

"What, you don't trust me?" All of the sudden the humor returned
to CJ's voice. Jon was extremely relieved to have the emotional tones
lifted from the conversation. He went out tonight to have fun, after all.

Smiling in CJ's direction, and seeing the twinkle in his eyes,
Jon played along. "Who, Love-'em-and-leave-'em Kent? Mr.
Girl-of-the-month? You're practically a legend."

"Oh, I am NOT." CJ chuckled. "As far as the football team goes,
I'm tame. Considering the girls that are throwing themselves at me all
the time, I figure I'm the picture of restraint."

"You certainly aren't the picture of humility. Girls throwing
themselves at you? You should be so lucky."  Jon knew HE certainly wasn't
that lucky. Jon also knew below CJ's football jock facade, he was just a
somewhat shy, uncertain brainiac. The fact was, most of the time CJ's
relationships ended because the girls who wanted the jock got
disappointed when all they got was the academic.

CJ slipped into a Rodney Dangerfield act as he pulled the car up
to Jon's hotel.  "No respect, I'm telling you." CJ looked away from his
brother, acting like he was adjusting an imaginary tie, trying to hide a
smile.  Jon climbed out of the car. Before he shut the door, he poked his
head back in.

"Noon at Bruce's office, right?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Good. 'Night. And hey, try not to hit any of those women who are
throwing themselves at you on your way home."  Jon grinned wickedly and
shut the door as CJ made a goofy face and stuck out his tongue. Yes, he
missed having his brother around.


***


Jenny Sears entered her apartment and flopped down on the sofa,
not bothering to turn on any lights.  The dim glow of the sign for the
small grocery store across the street cast an orange and blue hue across
the ceiling.  Blue....Clark had been wearing a blue shirt tonight....

She clutched her hands to her temples and shook her head. Tonight
sure hadn't turned out like she thought it would, that's for sure.  She
had gone out basically just to get out of her apartment. The neighborhood
bar seemed like a good place - little did she know that she would run
into the object of her desire.

She had to admit, she had always had a crush on Jon Kent. He was
a couple years older than her, and he was SUCH a good writer. Considering
who his parents were, that was no great shock. And Jon was very good
looking. She had never followed through on her crush, though. When she
saw him tonight, she thought this would be the time to do so. Then she
met his brother. If Jon was very good looking, Clark was a knockout. When
they touched, she definitely felt something. When their eyes met, she
almost drowned. She had thought she had seen something in them - desire
maybe.

She certainly felt desire toward him, although she had no clue
why. She didn't even know him, and Jenny had always told herself that she
could never go out with a guy unless they were friends first.  *Now
you're thinking about going out with him?* Maybe. Could it be love at
first sight?  Why else would she feel that kind of instant attraction
toward him? She had had a couple of boyfriends in college, but she had
never felt that kind of overriding desire with them that she felt tonight.

The tension between them had been palpable. Then he reverted to
jock mode and he changed. He treated her like his sister or something.
That didn't bode well for any future relationship. Of course, he did give
her his number before leaving.  The anticipation in his voice when he
asked her to call him said a lot - he was just as interested in her as
she was in him. Probably. He DID invite her to a ballgame. Not to his
place, not out on the town, but to a ball game.  Jenny fished the card
out of her purse.

Wayne Enterprises. He worked for them? Looking more closely at
the front, she realized that this was Bruce Wayne's personal business
card. Why would he part with that?  Was that who he was working for over
the summer? Interesting. Jenny held the card to her chest briefly, then
rose and tacked it onto the bulletin board above her phone. He would
definitely be hearing from her again. He seemed like an interesting guy -
he definitely had the same sense of humor as his brother. Maybe it was a
family trait. She had to know more about him. He seemed like a more
complex person that he appeared on the outside.

Jenny sighed and made her way into the bedroom. She wasn't
looking forward to going in to work tomorrow. She brushed her teeth and
changed before crawling into bed. As she closed her eyes, the face of
Clark Kent Jr. floated into her vision. It was so handsome, so soft.  A
smile played across her face as she fell into sleep, dreaming of her
newest friend.


***


At a couple of minutes before noon, a secretary ushered Jonathan
Kent into the penthouse office of Bruce Wayne. Wayne was sitting at a
large desk, intently reading papers from a folder.  CJ lounged in a large
chair facing the desk.  His attire was very unprofessional - his t-shirt,
baseball cap, and jean shorts looked out of place in the executive
office, among the books and tasteful office furnishings. Jon was dressed
in a nice suit - he was technically here on Daily Planet business, after
all.  Jon had fashioned his work attire after his father's, with the
colorful jackets and ties that would definitely not be considered
conservative. The view from the large office was spectacular - the Wayne
Tower was the tallest building in Gotham. Jon was impressed.

Bruce acknowledged Jon as he approached the desk. They shook
hands again, and Jon sat in a chair next to his brother.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Kent?" Wayne asked, his demeanor very
serious and businesslike.

Jon settled more comfortably into his chair as he began to relate
his lengthy tale. "About a month ago, the Peterson tower, a 40 story
skyscraper in downtown Metropolis, partially collapsed during a wind
storm. I'm sure you heard about it on the news."

Wayne nodded. "A hundred people died in that tragedy, right? I
heard it would've been more if not for Superman and son."

Jon smiled grimly and nodded. "Right. Initially, authorities were
unable to explain what would cause the building to collapse apparently
without reason. No explosive devices or vandalism were found. It remained
a mystery. Then, last week, another building collapsed on a windy day.
This time it was a dorm at New Troy State College. Luckily, it was
shortly after all the students had moved out for the summer, but again
the collapse was apparently unprovoked.

"Two days ago, the report of an independent structural engineer
hired by the City of Metropolis was released, and what it said was
disturbing. Apparently both these buildings had been constructed
improperly. The original design for both these buildings called for
welded joints where steel structural members met. However, in both the
joints had been riveted instead. It might seem like a slight difference,
but structurally, it means a lot, and it led to the collapse of those
buildings under large lateral loads conditions, such as when there were
strong winds.

"The Planet began to do some digging and found that the same
contractor, Smithson-Eastern Contractors, built both of these buildings.
This company primarily operates in Metropolis and Gotham, with their main
work being bridges and buildings.  An investigation is beginning in
Metropolis - inspectors with the contractor and the contracting authority
are being interviewed, and structural engineers are pouring over every
structure this company has built in Metropolis. The same investigations
will be beginning here soon, which is why I'm here.

"What I need from you is an account of any dealings you have had
with this contractor. I also need to borrow my brother for a while. In
Metropolis, Superman is scanning Smithson-Eastern built buildings on his
own - I plan to do the same here. Superman is also helping to correct the
problem, manually welding together defective joints. I am unable to do
this - that's where CJ here comes in."

Wayne nodded slowly, the wheels in his head turning. CJ also
nodded. He knew about the building collapses - they were both all over
the news. He had no idea that he was expected to be a human welding
torch, though. The thought excited him somewhat - it wasn't often that he
got to utilize his laser vision in public due to the Robin persona.

Jon sat back and accepted the silence. He knew Wayne would come
through for him - he was probably formulating a strategy right now. Bruce
collected his thoughts before speaking.

"I recall having dealings with this contractor several times. I
was always somewhat suspicious of the bids they submitted - they seemed
unbalanced, but it was nothing I could prove. Since my company is not a
public institution, I had the discretion to reject their bids and use the
company that I wanted. I'm sure the college wasn't as lucky." Wayne's
voice had taken on a deep, somewhat raspy quality. It was the Batman
voice; CJ knew it well.

"I'll make you a deal, Kent," Wayne said, his intense eyes boring
into Jon. "You two go ahead and inspect the buildings - I know they built
dozens over the years in Gotham and the suburbs. Be discreet about it,
stay out of sight - we don't want Clark here giving away anything he
shouldn't be." Wayne knew what was at stake if it were to be seen that
Robin had x-ray and laser vision.  "I will gather information on this
company - things the police wouldn't be likely to get their hands on. I
will also personally interview the company bigwigs in Gotham." A devilish
smile crept across his face at the thought of some much-needed work for
Batman.

"You can have the information that I gather, but only AFTER the
situation is taken care of.  It would be wise not to scare the contractor
into hiding - if we want to get them, we have to take them by surprise.
So I would advise not publishing anything until later."

Jon nodded. He had expected to have to do his own research,
although he thought that Bruce just might offer to do it himself.  His
father had said that Bruce always liked research - they didn't call him
"The World's Greatest Detective" for nothing.  Bruce seemed much more
vibrant now that he had a job to do, as compared to his lackadaisical
manner last night.

"Why don't we start now? We can meet up again later tonight,"
Jon suggested.

"That's what I was thinking. Midnight. The cave." Bruce nodded
and made a hand gesture, indicating they were dismissed. The Kents
promptly rose and left the office.

As Jon stepped into the elevator leaving the office, his brother
close behind, he pulled a cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed
the familiar number for the Daily Planet.  Superman would also be
attending their little meeting tonight.

The next stop was the courthouse to get blueprints, then a change
of clothing and they would be off on inspection. It was going to be a
long day.


***


By 10 PM the brothers, dressed as Robin and the Crimson Superman,
found themselves on top of the third building on the list. The first two
had been rather small, as far as skyscrapers go, but a fifteen-story
building has all sorts of steel joints, as they found out. Lucky for
them, the first was an industrial building, so accessing the joints
wasn't a problem. It took a long time welding them all, though, and by
the time he was done, CJ was feeling decidedly worn out.  The second
building didn't have any defective joints. CJ was really hoping this one
didn't, either.  This one was an apartment building, so it would be
difficult doing repairs without getting detected or having to cut through
walls to reach the steel.

Transportation for the night had been provided by Jon. He
deposited CJ on the roof and did a quick search of the building's frame
at superspeed.  While he was doing that, CJ pulled a blueprint of the
building out of the backpack he was carrying and spread it out in front
of him. The building was in the campustown area, only a block away from
the bar that they had visited last night. The thought of last night
momentarily sent CJ into a swoon, but he shook it off in order to
concentrate on the task at hand.  A blue and orange neon grocery sign
across the street provided enough light to read the plans, the full moon
overhead helped, too. These were nice, roomy apartments for being so
close to campus, CJ thought.  He frowned as he studied the plans further
- as he suspected, access to the steel would have to be done through the
hallways and stairwells - no convenient maintenance corridors or
ventilation shafts.

Jon sighed as he appeared before CJ on the roof. CJ could tell
right away that the news wasn't going to be good. He hazarded a look at
Jon's face and his suspicions were confirmed. He sighed and laid back on
the roof, letting out a groan as he did. The stars sure did look nice,
well, at least the ones he could see through the illumination of the
city. He wanted to just lie on the roof and stare at them for a while.

"No rest for the weary, I'm afraid," Jon said.  He wasn't feeling
as worn out as his brother was, but then again, he had the easier job.
Of course, there were many nights when he, too, wanted nothing more than
to stare at the stars. He was able to get a better vantage point, though.
He brought CJ up to the top of the stratosphere once, and he had
appreciated it in a resigned way.

"Darn it," CJ muttered under his breath. He reluctantly pulled
himself up along with the blueprints. He thrust them toward his brother.
"This one isn't going to be easy."

"I know, I saw," Jon said, taking the blueprints and looking
through them anyway.  "I suppose we should get going. Maybe we can get
this place done before we have to get to the meeting - it's only six
stories."

"Yeah, yeah." CJ made his way toward the roof access to the
stairs. "Are we starting at the top or the bottom?"

"We're here, might as well start at the top." Jon jogged to catch
up with CJ, grabbing the backpack as he went.  "Just be careful."

"I'm the torch, you're the eyes and ears, remember?" CJ's fatigue
was causing his mood to darken.  He wasn't usually cross with anybody -
he wasn't usually this tired, either.  A good night in bed or a shot of
sunshine would do a world of good right now.

Jon quickly scanned the staircase all the way down to the
basement and saw nobody.  Most of the apartments in this complex were
empty right now, he had noticed during his earlier scan. This was prime
time for vacations, and with the college kids largely gone, that left a
lot of space for rent. As they reached the top floor, he scanned all of
the apartments, finding them all to be empty.

"Nobody's home," Jon said as they opened the door.

"Good to hear."  CJ reached up and touched the paneled ceiling.
"This might work better than I thought."  He walked to the nearest column
and removed the ceiling tiles.  Any scorch marks could be nicely
concealed above the ceiling line, making the explaining quite a bit
easier. CJ checked the hallway again before welding the connection.

"Nice digs," he commented as he shot a beam of heat out of his
eyes. "How come they don't have places this nice around the MU campus?"

Jon drifted up through the hole in the ceiling to get a better
look at his brother's handiwork.  "Sure beats the place we lived in."

"SOME of us still have their name on a lease there." CJ focused
his energy beam on the connection on the next side of the column.


--

Jenny Sears padded lightly up the stairway on the opposite side
of the building. As she reached the sixth floor landing, she nestled her
laundry basket on her hip and gently pulled open the door. Her bare feet
made almost no sound as she made her way down the carpeted hallway. She
heard voices in the distance, an unusual thing since she knew she was the
only renter on this floor for the summer.  She wondered who it could be -
the landlord wouldn't be showing apartments after 10 PM.

She approached the corner in the hallway cautiously.  She almost
gasped at what she saw and heard. In her hallway was Metropolis's newest
superhero, the Crimson Superman, and Robin, the sidekick of Gotham's own
elusive hero. Robin hadn't been around town for years, though.  Superman
was floating, his head lost in the ceiling. Robin was staring into the
ceiling, the distortion in the air caused by extreme heat evident around
his eyes.

*What's going on here?* Jenny asked herself while she quietly
slipped out of direct line of sight of the heroes.  As she listened in on
the conversation, she became even more confused.

"It WAS a better apartment complex than a lot of them in
campustown, I guess," Crimson Superman said. Jenny had heard him speak on
the news a couple of times before she left Metropolis. This newest
Superman wasn't exactly the most friendly toward the media, although Jon
Kent did manage to get an interview with him for the campus paper right
after he first appeared. How Jon swung that one, she didn't know. In any
case, Jenny could've sworn that his voice was an octave lower normally
than what she was hearing here. In fact, his voice sounded familiar in a
different way now that she thought about it.

"Not that you ever needed to be in close walking distance," Robin
said. His voice sounded familiar, too.  "Anyways, even obviously high
quality places like ours didn't come cheap. Good thing Dad paid for it."

*Ours? Dad?*  Startled at implications, Jenny unconsciously
loosed her grip on the clothesbasket, causing it to come tumbling to the
ground.

The sound stopped the superheroes' conversation cold. Instantly,
both heads snapped around to investigate the source.  "Shoot," Jon
uttered under his breath.

Aware that she had given herself away, Jenny resolved to be bold
and stuck her head around the corner. The Crimson Superman was now
standing on the floor. Two sets of very wide eyes regarded her - she felt
very shy all of a sudden. Even though the pair were probably one hundred
feet away from her, she was able to lock eyes with Robin. It was almost
as if a bolt of electricity passed between them. *That's the second time
that's happened in as many days,* she thought almost absently.  Before it
had a chance to register, though, the pair just disappeared.

Jenny stood in the hallway and blinked a few times. *Think,
Jenny, think!*  She mentally kicked herself into action. What were they
doing? That was the question. After scooping her spilled laundry back
into the basket, she made her way down to where the pair had just been
standing.  Superman had been floating, his head in the ceiling, and Robin
had been looking upwards. All Jenny could see was a normal looking drop
ceiling.

She placed the laundry basket on the ground and reached up to
remove the ceiling panels.  As she did, she noticed two pairs of black
holes burnt into the wall. Interesting.  Deciding to look further, she
dumped the clothes onto floor and turned over the basket so it could be
used as a stepping stool.

*Much better!* Upon examination of the scorch marks, it was
evident that they had been made by someone standing on the ground. The
angle made it obvious. Robin had made these! Still standing on the
basket, she stared blindly at the wall as the information processed.

All the pieces fit, it had to be. By all accounts, Robin was just
a normal guy in a cape, yet here is this seemingly new Robin, who can
burn things with his eyes.  Then the conversation - "Dad" (Superman,
obviously) paid for "our" apartment. "They're brothers," she muttered.
Brothers. *What a story that would make!*

Giddy all of a sudden, Jenny jumped down, gathered her things,
and jogged to her apartment. Oh yes - this could be just the thing to
endear this college girl to her editor.


***


CJ felt dazed. One second he had been staring into Jenny's eyes,
the next he was back on the roof. He blinked a few times, trying to
reorient himself.

Jon stood a short distance away, his right hand on his hip and
his left hand grasping his chin in a thinking pose.  He seemed to be
looking through the roof toward where they just were. His face fell a
little as the seconds passed. CJ figured he could take a peek, too, but
he really didn't think he'd like what he would see.

"Would you mind telling me what the heck just happened?" CJ
asked, a bit of anger showing through his voice.  Jon was supposed to be
the lookout, after all - nobody was supposed to see them.

Jon shook his head a little. "I... I guess I wasn't paying
attention."  He sounded sad.

"You were paying attention just now - what do you think she knows?"

"Ah, well, she took a look and found the scorch marks. I think
she might have seen something else, too." The last part was said cautiously.

"My God, I think she recognized me!"  CJ was beginning to panic.
If he didn't watch out, he might end up hyperventilating.

"No, no, no." Jon couldn't believe what he was hearing. He went
over to put a hand on CJ's shoulder.

"Yes. I'm telling you, our eyes met! I felt that...whatever it was
from when we looked at each other last night.  There's no way she
COULDN'T know!" CJ was gesturing wildly with his hands.  Jon didn't know
what to make of this assertion, but this mysterious connection - that
couldn't be possible, could it? It was just a lot of hooey invented by
people who liked to exaggerate their love for each other (he didn't see
his brother as the type who would do this, but hey, people change).  He
had to dispel this notion pronto.

"Hey, she was practically on the other side of the building!
There was no way she could've recognized you...or me!  I wouldn't have
recognized her if not for the powers!"  This seemed to calm CJ a bit.

"Okay, okay, maybe you're right. But there WAS that connection.
It was weird." CJ's face brightened a bit at the thought that maybe they
were connected.   Soul mates?  It was an interesting idea. CJ wallowed
momentarily in this, but then his mind snapped back to reality.
Something his brother had said began to come back to him.

"You said she might have seen something else - what did you mean?"

"She took a good look at where you patched that connection."  Jon
removed his hand from CJ's shoulder and began to pace.

"Did she say anything?" CJ now wished he had looked, too.

"I could barely hear her say 'they're brothers'."

CJ immediately paled and uttered an expletive under his breath.

"If she looked at that patch, she might catch on to what we were
doing, too." Jon was trying to direct the conversation away from personal
territory and bring them back to more familiar ground.  It didn't work.

"How could she have gotten that we're related? What if she saw
more than we thought? What if she had been listening in on us for a
while?"  CJ felt the panic rise up again. This was serious! This could
jeopardize him and his family, and he had hardly been a superhero for
three weeks! She was a JOURNALIST for goodness sakes!

Jon sighed. Deep down, he was asking himself the same questions.
And he felt a bit panicky, too. But he also knew that she couldn't hurt
them. Yes, she was a journalist, but at her current job, all she probably
would be doing is conducting research for the staff journalists. And
anyways, she didn't have any proof to back up any claims to their
identities or possible relation.

"CJ!" Jon whispered. He didn't want to say his real name loud
enough to be easily overheard. It got his brother's attention. Jon
continued at a normal voice level. "In the end it doesn't matter. And it
won't be a problem, either, believe me. She doesn't have proof, just an
idea about what she saw.  The bigger problem is if this allows her to
blow my story before the right time. She DOES have proof that we were
welding that connection. It might take her a while to figure out why we
were welding it, but she catches on fast. She's a monster researcher."

CJ seemed to accept this. He nodded slowly, thinking, grateful
that one of them was able to keep a level head. It was definitely
something he would have to work on. Jon was right - she couldn't let this
out. They had to work quickly on a solution. "What can we do?" he finally
asked.

"Well, we have to finish doing this building. I think it would be
wise from here on out if we kept our yaps shut and just worked. I think
there's enough space above that ceiling to stay up there and keep out of
sight. We can superspeed between floors."

"That ceiling structure won't hold my weight," CJ said, doubt was
written across his face.

"I'll hold you."

"Great,"  CJ muttered sarcastically. The thought that he needed
Jon's help to do his job wounded his pride. His mind raced, trying to
think of any alternatives, but there were none - float above the ceiling
or risk being seen again. "Okay, let's go. I don't want to have to come
back here to work on this again." Irritation flashed in his voice.

CJ strode again toward the staircase. Jon quickly caught up to
him and laid a hand upon his shoulder, stopping his progress.

"Listen, we'll talk about what happened down there later. If it
means anything to you, it bothered me, too. But we HAVE to get this done
- her life, as well as the lives of everybody else who lives here, might
be at risk if we don't.  If you let your feelings interfere now, it could
affect your work, and that won't be a good thing.  Let's go and get this
over with, CALMLY. Please."

CJ closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  When he spoke, it
came out softly and evenly. "Yes, I agree. We can talk with Dad when he
gets here. He'll know what to do. I think...I think I am calm, really.  I
just want to finish what we started."  He turned his head to face his
brother, a half smile on his face. "Thanks for understanding."  CJ then
looked back toward the door, and as he did so, his stance became more
commanding, his face more confident. "So are we going or what?" he said,
the light tone back in his voice.

Jon smiled to himself. *Lord help me, I know him too well,* he
thought. It was good to see that old spark return in his brother after
all that emotional upheaval.  That was the one thing that had always
endured in their family - despite the bad things that inevitably seemed
to happen, they could always get through it with their sense of humor in
tact.  If you didn't have that, what did you have, after all?

Without hesitation, Jon swept them into the building.  They still
had a job to do.


***


Batman swung onto the seventh story ledge of an apartment
building in one of the more affluent neighborhoods in Gotham.  Inside
slept the chief estimator for Smithson-Eastern Contractors in Gotham
city. He might not know a whole lot, but if there was bid unbalancing
going on, he would know about it.  Batman didn't think he would get a
whole lot of information out of this guy, but it would confirm his
suspicions, giving him a good starting point.

He checked the window and found it unlatched. Gently, he pulled
it open and dropped into the apartment. Even for a man of nearly 70 years
of age, Batman still moved with amazing fluidity and grace. He still cut
an intimidating figure in his bat-suit, too, although he was well aware
that he most likely wouldn't for a whole lot longer.  Criminals see
wrinkles protruding from under the cowl, and all of a sudden they don't
take you as seriously anymore.

As Batman crept toward the bedroom, he reflected on his current
situation. He had always had a great amount of respect for Clark Kent,
not for his superpowers, but for the way he conducted his life.  Bruce
had to admit that he was also jealous.  Sure, he had played the part of
the playboy and had had many women in the process, but now he was
becoming an old man, and he was acutely aware of how alone he really was.
Look at Kent - he has a wonderful family with two very fine sons and a
daughter who looked like she would be a stunner when she got a little
older.  Clark was so proud of his family, and with good reason.  They
would carry on his legacy and pass it to another generation; they would
make the world a better place.

Clark and Bruce had formed a friendship after they met and
discovered each other's secrets so many years ago. They made it a point
to visit whenever they happened to find themselves in each other's towns.
They also chatted on the phone from time to time and, of course, they
exchanged Christmas cards every year (the one to Clark and his family was
one of the few Christmas cards that Bruce wrote personally - the rest
were handled by his personal secretary).  So it was that Clark and Bruce
had been talking to each other on the phone about two years ago, when
Bruce let it slip that he had thought about hanging up the cape.  As if
on cue, Clark had mentioned his younger son's career aspirations, and
inspiration struck.  The young CJ had enthusiastically agreed to be
Bruce's intended replacement, and Bruce found it in himself to keep being
the bat until the switch could be made.

Bruce had to admit that he liked Clark, Jr., for the most part.
The kid was hard working and extremely bright.  He was also a jokester -
Bruce didn't have to guess where this trait came from.  Being the keen
observer that he was, Bruce could tell that CJ tended to be somewhat
uncertain about himself, too.  He had this jock-like veneer he would put
on in order to blend in - it was so unlike the somewhat shy, intelligent
kid that lay underneath.   This kind of duality of personally was
something Bruce could respect - he himself had the same problem - it was
what led him to be Batman, after all.  CJ would be a suitable
replacement, Bruce figured, all things aside, but he wondered as to the
boy's motivation. What motivated anybody who put on a disguise to fight
crime, anyways?  That sense of loss that Bruce had felt at his parent's
death and his overriding desire to not let that happen to anyone else
still kept him going night in and night out, even after almost six
decades.  It hardly seemed like so long.

Superman had always been propelled by a good heart.  He had these
things he could do and couldn't ignore a plea for help if he could
possibly do anything about it. It was an innate goodness, a deep sense of
respect for life.  It was a noble and selfless thing to do, but then
again that was the type of person that Clark was, and Bruce knew it. What
about his son, though?  The younger Clark couldn't do all the things his
father could - he couldn't speed to the scene of trouble and fly in to
save the day.  He could never don the super suit. Was that why he wanted
to be Batman - to prove that he could still fight crime and save lives
with what he had? Bruce never doubted for a moment whether CJ's heart was
in the right place or not, he just didn't want him to take on this
responsibility for the wrong reasons and regret it.

These thoughts were pushed to the back of Batman's mind as he
gently opened the bedroom door.  A balding, slightly overweight man was
laying on his bed inside, snoring away, peacefully unaware of the
intruder.  Batman made his way to the bed and loomed over the man, grabbing
him by the shirt and yanking him awake. The man seemed more annoyed than
anything else as he opened his eyes, until he caught sight of the source
of his discomfort. The sparse light from the bedroom window made it
possible only to see the outline of the Batman - the broad shoulders and
strong jaw. The man's eyes shot wide open and he began to cower in
Batman's grasp. It only made the hero hold on tighter.

"What do you want with me?" the man asked in a squeaky voice.

"I want information," Batman replied in his most menacing voice.
It caused the man to cower even more. Batman let him fall back on the
bed.  "Your employer - they have been building defective structures for
years.  I want to know everything you know about it." He leaned down so
that his nose was less than a foot away from the man's nose.
"Everything." Batman stood up again.

"I...what? You mean the thing with the joints?"

Batman just stood there.

The man stopped for a moment, seemingly trying to decide what to
say. Impatient, Batman reached out to grab him again.

The man threw up his hands to block the move. "OKAY! Okay.  The
company hit on hard times during the recession of the early nineties.
Contracting companies were dropping like flies - nobody was interested in
building anything. The contractors that remained fought tooth and nail
for every job, and it seemed like we could never win any bids. So the
boss decided that we needed to do something to keep ourselves in
business. The engineer that worked with the company then said it was
perfectly safe, but we didn't think the building owners would go for it.
All I know is that they told me to bid it as if the steel connections
were bolted despite what the plans said. I swear!"

"And how many projects did you do this on?"

"Uh... well, I only did it once, but there are at least five
different estimators that do projects for the company." Sweat began to
flow off the man's face.

"I want names - the engineer who told you it was OK, the other
estimators, and anyone else who may be involved." Batman cracked his
knuckles. "Or else."


***


Superman flew a quick loop around Gotham City before heading
toward the Batcave.  Even before he entered, he knew he was going to be
the first one there for the meeting - his flight around the city had
shown him that.  He was only fifteen minutes early - he was hoping to
spend the time chatting with Bruce about how CJ had been doing, but even
Batman had taken to the streets for the night.  Clark didn't know whether
Bruce was expecting him or not, but in any case he decided to make
himself at home in the cave and wait for the others to arrive.

Clark was immediately drawn to the area around the computer,
where it appeared that Bruce had been hard at work researching
Smithson-Eastern.  There was a company history, list of employees and
profiles of those he thought important, and a list of every building
built by them since they'd been in business.  Clark had many of these
same things on his desk at work, thanks to the researchers at the Planet.
Some of the things that Bruce managed to get a hold of, and in less than
twelve hours, nonetheless, Clark found to be astounding. Copies of the
financial record of the company, copies of bids put in for contracts, and
even the State of New Troy financial assessment of the bidding ability of
the company, generally only available to a couple of people inside the
capitol. Impressive.  Clark took at seat and began to leaf through all
the documents.

After a few minutes, he heard the rush of air and a small thud as
his sons landed. He turned around to look and them and had to smile.  Jon
was wearing his red and black Superman outfit - it looked quite good on
him.  It almost seemed to be more like a business suit than his own
outfit - granted, the top was tight fitting, but the pants weren't, and
the lack of a cape accentuated his broad shoulders.  Jon didn't spend
much time in the outfit - the whole Superhero thing was still very new to
him, and Clark was more than willing to let him ease himself into it
gradually - but when he did put it on, he conducted himself with the
utmost dignity and control.  Jon was pretty serious most of the time
anyway, but he usually had a keen sense of humor and vibrancy that simply
went away when he when he was the Crimson Superman.  The effect of Jon's
change into Superman seemed identical to the effect of his own change
into Superman, Clark thought. It was eerie in a way, how Jon had turned
out so much like himself.  He was proud of him, nonetheless.

CJ was wearing his Robin outfit. Clark had never seen his son
dressed that way, and even he had to admit that the effect was stunning.
The dark mask that covered the area around his eyes and the black, dark
green, and maroon outfit served to make him seem menacing.  CJ was not
normally a very menacing person at all. He could be intense, like when he
played football or when he studied science, or he could be naturally very
funny and warm.  CJ tended to wear rather loose-fitting clothes, but this
outfit was tight fitting and accentuated his very well defined figure.
Clark wished he could see CJ in action so that he could observe the
effect the outfit had on his personality.

The boys caught their father smiling at them, and they smiled
back. Clark noticed that they both looked tired - it had probably been a
long night for them.

"Hi Dad!" Jon said enthusiastically, not letting any the stress
he was feeling seep into his voice.

"Yeah, hi. How's things?" CJ asked. He wasn't as successful in
controlling his voice.  He perched himself on the computer table about
three feet from where his father sat. Jon stood next to him.

Clark cocked one eyebrow at them. "Been busy. How about you? You
look like you've had a hard day."  Clark placed the papers he had been
reading back where he found them and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's definitely been one of those days that you just wish would
get over with," CJ said, placing his hands on his chin and his elbows on
his knees.

"That bad, huh?" Clark looked sympathetically at CJ.   He then
looked at Jon, his expression begging for him to elaborate.

Jon gave a crooked grin. "Girl problems," he said.

"Oooohh. I see." Clark grinned.  CJ turned red, his weary
expression not changing.  Clark decided to lighten the mood.  "I
shouldn't be worried, should I?  You're not going to write home next week
saying you eloped or something?"

This made CJ smile a little. He shook his head before speaking.
"No, it's not exactly that type of girl problems. Not that that would be
a BAD thing." CJ stopped for a second, deep in thought, and then frowned.
"Actually, I need to talk to you about something."

"If it's advice on girls, it might be better to ask your mother...."
Clark really didn't think he would much help on this subject, considering
how he almost blew it with Lois when they got together.

Jon chuckled at this, much to CJ's dismay.  Jon knew full well
that CJ would probably be looking for that type of advice soon enough,
especially if he was as serious about Jenny as he seemed to be.

"I'll keep that in mind." CJ gave Jon a dirty look.  He looked
back at his amused and somewhat confused father. "What I wanted to ask
you about was, uh, let's say, hypothetically, someone found out we were
related.  How would that be handled?"

"What, too good to be associated with your old man, now? Want me
to pretended like I don't know you? I can stage a press conference and
say 'Hi, my name is Clark Kent, and this is Clark Kent, Jr. Never mind
the name, we're not related at all....'"

CJ smiled and shook his head. Sometimes he didn't know whether to
laugh or to be exasperated. "ARGH!" he said in mock frustration. "What I
meant was, when we were out tonight, this girl somehow managed to make
the connection between Robin, and the Crimson Superman." He pointed his
finger at Jon, who was still giggling.  "She knows we're related."

"Girl problems...." Clark looked Jon in the eye and Jon shrugged and
gave a knowing look, a twinkle in his eye.  Clark looked back at CJ,
trying to be serious. He could tell this bothered him a bit. "How did
that happen?"

"She overheard us talking, I guess. And when we got the heck out
of there, she looked at what we had just been doing and put two and two
together."  CJ talked with his eyes on the floor.  He then looked at his
dad and continued. "She's a journalist, too. Well, a journalism intern,
but still!"

Clark thought briefly that Lois would probably like this girl a
lot.  He looked between his sons, trying to get a read on the situation.
Jon looked calm, like the situation didn't bother him at all. Clark
thought he might know why.

"Was there anybody with her?" Clark asked, figuring he knew the answer.

"No."

"Did she take pictures, video, anything?"

"No."

"So, what you're saying is that she has no evidence of any kind
to back up her knowledge?"

CJ sighed and shook his head. There was something else, Clark
knew it.  He squinted his eyes and looked at CJ.

"You know her, don't you?"

CJ looked shocked, Jon looked smug - he knew his father would
figure it out without a problem. He decided to make a contribution to the
conversation.

"Actually, she's a friend of mine from college working in Gotham
for the summer. I introduced her to CJ last night and let's just say that
sparks flew between them."

Clark grinned and nodded. "And when you saw her tonight, you felt
exposed," he said to CJ.  Clark could appreciate the condition - Lois had
put him in similar situations after they had met originally.  He always
felt a bit exposed when he was around her - he was sure that she could
see right through him.

"Listen, I know how you feel, believe it or not. It's happened to
me more than once, mostly with your mom. It should be fine, just don't
give her any more reasons to pursue this, okay?  Don't give her any
opportunities to prove her theory."

CJ looked relieved. Clark got up and they embraced briefly.  When
they were done, he looked at CJ critically for a moment. "I like your
outfit."

CJ had lightened up enough to be in a playful mood. Talking to
his father always allowed him to feel better.  He decided to have some
fun and play along. "Really, you think I look the part of the youthful
sidekick to the shadowy and mysterious Batman? 'Holy swiss cheese,
Batman!'"  CJ pretended to point to something in the distance.

Clark and Jon looked at each other. "Holy bad pun, Superman!" Jon
said dryly.

Clark chuckled. "I give up."

Just then the door to the cave opened and the batmobile pulled
in.  The attention of all three Kents was drawn toward the car. Clark
thought, not for the first time, that if he had to drive around in
pursuit of crime, that would definitely be the way he would travel.   The
top of the car opened and Batman stepped out and headed in their general
direction.  As he did, he reached for the back of his costume and pulled
off his cape and cowl.

It had been at least five years since Bruce and Clark had last
met in person.  When CJ moved up here a few weeks ago, he insisted on
moving himself, mostly because he didn't have many possessions to move.
Clark knew that Bruce was getting on in age, but he was really surprised
to see how the years had treated him.  Last time they'd met, a few streaks
of gray were just beginning to show themselves in Bruce's hair - now, his
head was completely gray.  The wrinkles were really beginning to show up
on his face, and his eyes were beginning to get bags under them. The most
shocking thing, though, was the general weariness in his demeanor, like
some of the fire had left him.  Clark would be lying if he said he wasn't
concerned about his old friend, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

"Bruce,"  Clark said, nodding toward his old friend.

"Clark, good to see you again."

Whereas Clark was surprised at the change in Bruce's appearance,
Bruce was equally as surprised in the lack of change in Clark's.  It
seemed to Bruce that Clark had stopped aging in his mid thirties. His
eldest son could almost be mistaken for his twin brother.  Bruce felt a
flash of jealousy, but quickly got it under control. They had a case to
work on, and they had better get down to business.  Bruce gestured to the
Kents to follow him to a large table.  They all gathered around it and
sat down.  Bruce grabbed the stack of papers from by the computer and
joined them there.

"Alright," Bruce said, "here's the situation as I see it.  This
company was building things legitimately until they ran into hard times
in the nineties, at which time they decided to cut costs by taking
certain shortcuts, such as bolting joints instead of welding them."

"That's pretty much what I got out of it." Clark said.

"What do the police know?" Bruce asked, looking between Jon and Clark.

"The Metropolis PD has been interviewing the company owners in an
attempt to see what they know. So far, the owners have been shoving the
blame off to corrupt inspectors, saying that they don't know how else it
could've happened. The police are trying to get a hold of all the
building inspectors right now, but they haven't had any luck so far."
Clark said.

"In Gotham, they really haven't done much. They're pretty much
letting Metropolis take the lead. They have other things to worry about
here," Jon said with a note of disgust.

Bruce nodded. "So they don't have anything concrete yet?"

"No," Clark responded.

"Who did you talk to tonight and what did they have to say?" Jon
asked Bruce.

"Their chief estimator said that the idea came from the top,
which I believe. I want to go after their chief engineer next." Bruce
looked thoughtful. "To pull off something like that, though, the company
probably would have to pay off the inspectors. Maybe the police are on to
something."

"Well, the Metropolis police are having great difficulty finding
most of the inspectors on the two collapsed buildings, part of the reason
why they don't have anything concrete." Clark smiled. "Of course, some of
us have other resources available to search for people."

"So...." Bruce said.

"Tomorrow," Clark said. "I want to finish the repair jobs before
tracking the inspectors down. Speaking of which, what is the situation
here?"

"They built forty buildings throughout town in the last forty
years. We've only been able to look at three so far, of which two needed
the repair," Jon chipped in.

Bruce pulled out the list of buildings built by Smithson-Eastern
in Gotham. "Which ones?"

"The Campus Heights apartments and the Murton Manufacturing
building were the ones that needed work. The Cooper Candy factory was
okay," Jon said.

Bruce circled those on the list. "Look, those two that were bad
were both built in the mid 90's. The other one was built in the 1970's."
Bruce looked at Clark. "What about in Metropolis?"

Clark thought for a second. "I'll have to get back to you on
that. They've done almost sixty buildings there, and I've looked at about
half now. I would guess that the trend is the same."  Clark addressed his
sons briefly. "You'll let me know if you need some help in Gotham, won't
you?"

CJ had been feeling pretty worthless for most of this meeting,
and hearing the disparity in number of buildings inspected and doing the
math in his head for how long it would take them to get done, he started
feeling depressed. "I can only work so fast," he muttered.  He knew he
was holding things up.

Jon glanced at his brother, his eyes knowing. He then looked at
his dad. "I think you'll need to help out here. I'm going to have to go
back to Metropolis tomorrow, you know."

Clark nodded. "Okay." He knew CJ was feeling a little wounded
right now. Clark tried to think of a way to get him involved in the
meeting in a constructive way - maybe some science-related issue needed
to be discussed.  Nothing came to mind, though. Clark looked at CJ
sympathetically, resolving to do something later to help him out.

Bruce was anxious to wrap up the meeting. "All right, here's the
plan. Tomorrow, you two," he pointed to Jon and CJ, "continue doing what
you were doing. I'll interview the brass. I have enough from their bids
and financial statements that I can pretty much wrap it up if I get
something good out of them. Clark, you get the inspectors and get me the
info on the buildings. We can meet again tomorrow, same time and place.
Agreed?"

Everybody nodded.

"Good," Bruce said, and just like that he left the table.

Clark looked at Jon. "How is the investigating going for the article?"

Jon shrugged. "What I told Bruce is about it. The Gotham PD is
really behind in this - if I didn't know better, I could swear that they
aren't taking it very seriously.  I won't have anything to publish until
I get back to Metropolis. I promise that I will get something to show for
this trip. How about you - are you publishing anything anytime soon?"

Clark looked distant. "This is big news right now - we can't just
sit on it. I wrote up a little something for tomorrow's edition - a
little update article to let people know that the investigation is still
going on. I'm hoping to have this wrapped up in time to get something big
for the weekend edition."

CJ spoke up for the first time. "Excuse me, but Jon," he looked
over at his brother, "don't forget that Jenny might know something. It
could compromise your investigation."

Jon had almost forgotten about that.  He thought for a moment,
interrupted by his father.

"That's the girl, right?"

CJ and Jon both nodded.

"The report on the building's collapse was a public document -
I'm sure the Daily Planet is not the only newspaper investigating. In
fact, the Star has been doing a series of articles on this, too," Clark
pointed out.

"Yes, but how many know that Superman is actively repairing the
defective buildings? How many know that this is also a problem in Gotham?
I can tell you that she does, AND she can get proof, simply by getting a
camera and taking pictures of the repair job in her apartment building,"
CJ said, thinking calmly and with a level head for the first time that
night.  Clark raised his eyebrows at this, Jon scrunched his brow
together in thought.  Everyone remained silent for a while as they
pondered situation.

Clark thought about the possibilities. One thing that his own
personal history had taught him was to NEVER dismiss a tenacious female
reporter when she latched on to a story.  He didn't know much about this
girl, but she sounded enough like Lois to make him think they might have
a problem, even if she was just an intern.  Of course, she had to start
from scratch, whereas they were in the middle of their investigation.
The question was, would she connect her building to the contractor, and
would she try to approach them, thereby scaring them away, or possibly
getting herself in trouble?

"I think," Clark said slowly, "that if we act quickly, we can
keep our story safe, and we can keep her safe, too."

The look of surprise on his son's face was Clark's clue to
elaborate. "If this company is willing to put thousands of lives at risk
on a daily basis to increase their profit margin, who's to say that they
wouldn't want to get a snoopy college girl out of their way if and when
she approaches them with evidence of wrongdoing?"

"I hadn't thought of that before," Jon muttered.

"Well, this type of thing used to happen to your mom all the
time. Anyways, it should be fine if we get to it in a timely fashion.
Okay?" Both boys nodded.

Satisfied, Clark smiled as he stood. "I should get going then."

"Me, too," Jon said.

CJ yawned, causing a chain reaction in Clark and Jon. "I think
I'll go to bed. It's really been a long day."

"Rest up for another long one tomorrow," Clark said.  He looked
more closely at CJ. He thought that he had maybe seen some self-doubt in
his youngest son. Was he unsure of his abilities? Clark often wondered if
maybe his boys felt more remorse at the lack of a complete set of
Superpowers than they let on to him - maybe that was playing into it. It
was very possible, considering CJ's earlier comment.  All he could do was
offer fatherly advice and encouragement, along with a good dose of humor
from time to time.

"I'm proud of what you're doing here in Gotham, CJ. Really. I
know it hasn't been much yet. Don't get down on yourself," Clark said
gently to his son.

CJ nodded, grateful for the sentiment. "Thanks, Dad."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Clark smiled and patted his
shoulder. "See you tomorrow night." With that he took off in a blur.  Jon
said his goodbyes and also took off, leaving CJ alone in the cave.

He remained seated in his chair, running his hand through his
hair. What a night, indeed.  It was the most action he had seen as a
'superhero' so far. He didn't know what to make of it - it didn't seem
like he had been doing the prototypical superhero-ish things. Don't they
normally swoop in and rescue people in distress? Stop a fire? Save the
world from terrorists? What had he been doing?  Welding steel. Woo.
Excitement. He supposed that was, technically, saving a building from
collapse, but it lacked the action that he craved.  There were no sirens,
no media attention (aside from his journalist family, but that didn't
count), no helicopters overhead with spotlights.

Okay, there had been action tonight, too, in a way. It involved a
woman looking him in the eyes and had lasted a second or two, if that. He
wondered what she made of that zap of electricity that traveled through
their glance. He wondered if he wanted to know.  Why did this woman have
such an effect on him?  She had nearly caused him to panic on the roof of
that building later. He needed to get a grip, he concluded. Whether that
grip was on reality or on her, he wasn't sure.

Shaking himself mentally, CJ rose from his chair and ripped off
his mask. That's it, he thought, I'm going to bed.  His dad was right -
tomorrow would be a long day.


***


Jenny Sears plopped herself down at a table in a secluded corner
of the research library of the Gotham Gazette. Her official tasks were
finished for the time being, now it was time to hide herself and work on
her own story. On the table sat volumes of research, gathered throughout
the morning, on various topics relating to what she had seen the previous
night. Robin, the newest Superman, her building.  The file on Robin was
on top, so she opened it first.

Robin, it seemed, had first appeared in Gotham almost thirty years
ago. Like Batman, he was a somewhat shady character, and the accounts of
him were somewhat sketchy. A couple of pictures of him did exist, though.
They weren't that great, but they were good enough that she could see
that this clearly was not the same Robin that she had seen last night.
The oldest picture was about twenty-eight years old. This Robin looked
like a high school aged boy. His outfit was a lot different - more
brightly colored and hokey. His hair was darker and his facial features
were different - his face seemed rounder, his nose seemed wider. It was
definitely not the same person - her Robin had lighter brown hair that
was buzz cut, and an oval face that was more angular.  The next picture
was only fifteen years old. Again, this Robin looked different - younger
than the previous one (was that possible?).  The outfit looked like it
had changed to fit the style of the day, his hairstyle changed, too,
although this Robin still had the darker hair.  Had anybody noticed these
disparities, she wondered?

Aside from the pictures, there were a couple of articles. It
seemed that Robin was prone to disappearing for long stretches of times -
Batman could go out for years without any Robin around, then Robin would
show up and hang around for a few years before disappearing again. This
could explain the different Robins - maybe they were different interns or
assistants who worked for Batman when they were young and then went their
own ways when they got older.

This sparked an idea in Jenny's mind, and she searched for
another folder. This one contained information on all the heroes in
Gotham. One sheet had a rough outline of Nightwing. It seemed his
appearance coincided with the mysterious disappearance of the first
Robin! The folder contained a picture of him, and it was obvious to her
that his features matched the first Robin - granted, he looked older and
his hair was a LOT longer as Nightwing, but still. Yes! It all made
sense! So Batman was training new superheroes. Who she saw last night -
the newest Robin - he was Superman's son. Why would Batman be training
him instead of his father doing it? Jenny pulled a pencil out from behind
her ear and began to tap it impatiently on the table as she thought.

Superman's son. Sons, plural. They had been in her building,
doing something involving heat vision, obviously, because she could see
the scorch marks on the wall, plain as day. But Robin had made the marks,
not the Crimson Superman. Why? And why did they both have to be there
doing whatever it was instead of just one of them - they were both
superpowered, after all. It would be so nice to be able to talk to one of
them, ask them what was going on. How, though? It occurred to her that
Jon Kent, one of the only men to get an interview for the Crimson
Superman, was right here in Gotham. Maybe he could get a hold of him.

Jenny pulled her backpack to her side and rooted around in it
until she found her planner. In it was an entry for Jon Kent, complete
with his cell phone number. Any self-respecting journalist would never
turn their cell phone off in the middle of a business day, she thought
as she dialed his number on her own cell phone.  He picked up and they
chatted, but he denied that he could get a hold of the Crimson Superman.
His original interview had been somewhat of a fluke, he had said,
partially his reward for being in the right place at the right time and
partially a result of his family's long-standing link to Superman.  Jenny
thanked him and hung up, thoughtful. She had almost forgotten that Clark
Kent, Sr. had been a very well known friend of Superman in the years
immediately after he had shown up. That connection had diminished as Kent
got a family - Superman probably got a family of his own at about the
same time. It occurred to Jenny that the Crimson Superman seemed to be
about the same age as Jon, although it was so hard to tell. Heck,
Superman himself didn't even look forty, although by all accounts he had
been around Metropolis for a good 25 years and therefore HAD to be older
than that. The man didn't age.

None of this speculation was helping her to get a meeting with
the younger Superman or with Robin. So much for the direct route, she
thought. There had to be another way.  She didn't feel up to deliberately
getting herself in trouble - there were no guarantees that Superman or
Robin would show up if she did, and she wasn't big on pain. There had to
be another way.  What if there was some way to know where they were going
to be?

Jenny's mind wandered back to her apartment building. Maybe if
she could find out what they were doing there, she could have an idea of
where she might be able to find them later. She flipped through her files
until she found the one that dealt with her building. Built in 1993,
financed by a local real estate mogul and built by a contractor out of
Metropolis and Gotham.  The building had been put together in a timely
fashion without incident. Nothing stood out.  *Think, Jenny!*  They had
shot heat into the wall. Why?  Heat melts things - the steel in the
building, maybe?  Looking at the information in the file, the company
that supplied the steel for the building also supplied the steel to
probably a third of the buildings in Gotham.  If it were defective steel,
that would be BIG. But she didn't think that was it.

Jenny closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.  Heat. Steel?
Wiring? Soldering pipes? Something in the back of her mind said that
wasn't it.  She tried to grab onto whatever was saying that, but it was
proving elusive.  The more she tried, the worse it got. *I have to give
it a rest - maybe then it will come to me.*  She opened her eyes and sat
up.  She decided that reading the newspaper always helped her relax.  She
got up and walked to the newspaper rack near the front of the room,
grabbed a copy of the Daily Planet and retuned to her desk.  The news
stories of the day were pretty mundane - news of corruption in the
Metropolis mayor's office, a housing scandal in the inner city, and the
rising costs of gasoline.  Jenny felt herself beginning to relax. As she
reached the fifth page, she read a small story written by the elder Clark
Kent about building inspections and an ongoing investigation into two
building collapses that occurred in Metropolis.

All at once that little idea in the back of her mind burst
through. The building collapses! A report came out a week or so ago about
those - something about bad construction. She HAD to find that report!
It was a Metropolis news story, so she searched through the Daily Planet
archive to find it.  This article was also written by Clark Kent. The
report had said that both buildings had been built with bad steel
connections. Steel!  It mentioned that they were both built by the same
company - the same one that built her building!

It all made sense now - they were there fixing those connections.
So they were probably quietly making their way around town fixing all the
other buildings built by this company. She knew how she could get a hold
of them now!

It wasn't too difficult for a master researcher such as herself
to obtain a list of the other buildings in Gotham built by the same
company that built the ones that collapsed in Metropolis.  The list was
rather lengthy, however.  She wanted to camp out on the roof of one of
them and wait for them to show up, but she might be waiting a while.
Granted, being relatives of Superman, one would think that they could go
between buildings pretty fast. Then again, they weren't moving very fast
last night.

Jenny made up her mind - she would go to a building on the list
and wait. She wanted to make it one in the same part of town as her
apartment - she figured the odds were better that they would get all of
one part of town before moving on to another part - it just made more
sense. She just hoped she wasn't too late.

Jenny bolted to the newsroom, not bothering to replace her
research articles. They might come in handy later, for a story. She
figured it would be very hard to convince her boss to let an intern go
out on a story, so she faked an illness (very convincingly) and was able
to leave.  After stopping at her apartment to grab a camera and a
notebook, she was on her way. The story of her young career awaited her.


***


The building Jenny Sears chose to stake out was about four blocks
from her own. She had never really taken the time to survey the
neighborhood in which she lived in the time she had been in Gotham - all
four weeks. She was now wishing she had.  As with many urban campuses,
the area immediately around the school was very nice, but it went
downhill very fast as you got further away from the school.  This
particular neighborhood went from fairly affluent to seedy in the span of
three blocks. The building she was staking out looked positively grungy -
like maybe the landlord had just forgotten that it existed. Windows were
broken in the basement and on the first floor, paint was peeling from the
door and the window sills, and the brick was beginning to crumble at the
corners. Still, it appeared that people were, in fact, living there.
Potted plants clung to life in the upper windows, and the voices of
children floated down from above.

Jenny figured in order to get the best chance of meeting the sons
of Superman, she would probably have to make her way to the roof.  That
meant entering this building, and she wasn't sure she wanted to that.
BUT, she was a journalist, and as such, she told herself, she should get
used to going places and seeing things that she didn't want to.  Bravely,
she set out to climb the steps to the door and enter. Her progress was
thwarted as a large man stepped out from the side of the building and
quickly made his way toward her. He smiled, showing yellowed and broken
teeth, making Jenny feel nauseous. He looked like he could've been a
football player or wrestler in his better days. He cut a very imposing
figure with his dark hair disheveled and his beard tangled.

"Hey honey, where do you think you're going?" His voice was low
and gravelly. She sensed that he tried to make it sound pleasant, but to
her it was only menacing.  She briefly thought about what to say to the
man, but in the end decided that it was probably wiser to say nothing at
all. She tried to make her face impassive, willing it to hide the dread
that was growing inside of her. She stood up a bit straighter and thrust
her chin out.

The man circled around her once, checking her from head to toe,
his smile growing larger as he finally came to a stop in front of her.

"Not the talkative type? That's okay, that's just the way I like
'em."  He made a sound that was halfway between and chuckle and a cough.
It caused Jenny to start shivering involuntarily.

"I bet you're one of them sorority chicks from the college. Did
you get lost or are you just looking to spread a little culture to us
lower class citizens?"  The man started to fondle her hair. This was too
much for Jenny, and she reached to knock his hand away.  This only
strengthened his resolve - as her hand brushed against his, he made a
grab for her wrist. His grip was like iron, and Jenny found it impossible
to break free. She began to wiggle convulsively, trying to get away.

"How about I show you my place, toots? Me and you can get a
little better acquainted."

"NO!" she cried and began to wiggle more violently. Her foot
reached out in an attempt to kick him where it counts, but he caught on
to this and dodged her. The smile that he had earlier been wearing began
to change into a sneer, making his face look that much more menacing.

"You're gonna be a fun one, I can tell right now," he said as he
began to drag her up the steps and toward the entrance of the building.

"NO! HELP!" she cried. She had never been so terrified in her
life.  A tiny corner of her brain reminded her that she had wanted to get
in a little trouble in order to reach her precious heroes. The rest of
her brain told that tiny nagging portion to just shut the heck up and try
to get away.

"HELP ME!" she cried again more loudly. But nobody was on the
street to hear her. Nobody cared.  She began to sob as she yelled for
help again. Finally, a large, dirty hand pressed itself onto her mouth,
muffling her screams.


--

Jon flew himself and his brother to the next building on the
list.  They were still in the campustown area, although they would
probably be out of it after this building was looked at.  It was now the
middle of the afternoon, and the two had been at it for a good three
hours already. Jon started the day in the city engineer's office,
interviewing him about what they were doing to inspect Gotham's
buildings.  Next he had changed clothes and picked up (literally) CJ. The
first building they went to was right next door to the one they got
caught in last night. It had the same problems as its neighbor, but it
also had the same floor plan and features, making the repair fairly easy.

Jon and CJ landed and took a good look around. CJ was beginning
to feel a little bit uncomfortable - black and maroon were not the best
colors to be wearing under the hot June sun in the middle if the day. Not
that he ever felt truly uncomfortable, due to his heritage. As soon as
they had landed, he felt the tar on the roof squish under his foot. That
was going to make a mess - he might as well schedule an hour tonight for
uniform cleaning, because it was going to need it.

As CJ lifted his boot to try and assess the damage, Jon zipped
away for his quick preliminary inspection.  CJ figured it probably wasn't
necessary - this building didn't fit the profile.  It had to be fifty
years old by now - he could tell they were entering an older and less
well maintained part of town. If they were all around here, then the next
few on the list should be a cinch, he thought.  They probably would all
have these crappy, tarred roofs, though. He walked gingerly over to the
edge of the building and began to scrape the bottom of his boot against
the stone edge when his hearing picked up something.

It was a scream for help, and it was close - no more than a block
or two away. Instinctively, CJ reached for his belt and pulled off his
hook and line. He shot the line to the building across the street and
jumped, swinging around the building. He let the line out gradually until
he was close enough to the pavement to jump. He dropped from twenty feet
in the air, leaving a crack in the pavement, and used his momentum as he
broke out into a dead run toward the scene that was taking place down the
street. His sight had picked up who the victim was. It made his blood run
cold.

It was Jenny.

CJ reached deep inside himself and summoned the meager bit of
superspeed he did possess.  He ran the block from where he had landed to
where Jenny was in less time than it would've taken the best Olympic
runner. All he could think about was her.  Neither Jenny nor her captor
paid any attention to him as he approached. Good. He reached his hand out
and grabbed the man, who was at least a hundred pounds heavier than
himself, by the neck and easily lifted him off the pavement.

The man looked shocked - shocked that someone had intruded,
shocked that this costumed guy had seemed to appear out of nowhere, and
most of all shocked that this smaller man was holding him in the air. He
released Jenny and made a grab at Robin. His hand was swatted away like
it was a fly. This small man was strong.  A mask covered the hero's eyes,
and the rest of his face was distorted in a sneer.  The large man could
swear he saw a tinge of red from far beneath his captor's eyes. It made
him feel a pang of fear. No matter, he thought as he reached behind
himself and pulled a knife out of the back of his pants. This guy would
not get the better of him.

Jenny had been startled to say the least. She stared at the scene
in front of her with her mouth open, a look of awe on her tear-streaked
face.  It was Robin, from out of nowhere, and he was holding this guy in
the air with one hand as easily as if he were holding up glass or a piece
of paper. And he looked MAD.  She let out a gasp as she saw her assailant
pull a knife from his pants and swing it right at the midsection of her
rescuer.  As the knife impacted, she closed her eyes and said a silent
prayer. She heard the knife clatter to the ground and began to weep
again, this time for the fate of the man who had just saved her, the man
she had tried to lure into an interview and who she instead got killed.

Slowly she opened her eyes and what she saw shocked her. Robin
still held the man in the air, and this time a look of horror began to
creep across the large man's face. Robin let out a growl as he tossed the
man down the steps and onto the street.  *What about the knife?!* Jenny's
mind screamed out. A glint of metal caught her eye - it was the knife, or
what was left of it.  She went over to pick up the crumpled piece of
metal, astonishment written on her face. It was true, it was all true.
This was the son of Superman.

She turned her attention back to the two men. Robin had stalked
over to the large man, who had hit the pavement hard. The young hero had
roughly pulled the man up and had cocked his right fist back, meaning to
punch him. Just then a blur crossed her vision and the Crimson Superman
appeared beside Robin. He gently laid his hand on his brother's shoulder,
ripping Robin's attention away from the man, who had begun to cower.
Superman said something softly to Robin, causing Robin to slowly lower
his fist. He flung the man back to the pavement and turned away in
disgust.  He took a step toward where Jenny stood and stopped. He had not
so much as looked at her during the whole ordeal - he decided to take a
chance and do so now.

Their eyes met, and what she saw shocked her. She had expected to
see coolness, anger, maybe defiance. What she did see was fear, sadness,
and worry. And maybe something else, too.  Their eyes remained locked for
several seconds. During this time she searched them, studied them,
looking for some sign of who he was or how he really felt.  She expanded
her search to his face, his soft and beautiful features. Even though the
masked covered part of it, she felt she could tell what his face was
really like. He was handsome, he had a look of intelligence about him.
The slight hint of wrinkles around his mouth meant that he probably
smiled a lot, although she could see no traces of humor in him now.  His
lips were somewhat thin and pouty, slightly uneven. Who was this man who
had come to her rescue just now?  Why did he take it so personally? Why
was he still looking at her?  She thought she had felt a connection last
night when she saw him - was it possible that he had, too?

Abruptly he tore his eyes away from hers and took to staring at
the pavement. He took a deep breath, realizing for the first time that he
had been holding it since their gazes met.  A million thoughts raced
through his mind. He should go comfort her. He should tell her it'll be
OK. He should run far away from her and never set eyes on her again.  The
last idea had a certain amount of appeal to it, he admitted to himself.
He turned and quickly began to walk away. He glanced over his shoulder to
make sure that Jon was handling the man OK, and he saw that they had
already left for the police station. That was his cue, he thought as he
reached for the hook and line on his belt. He pointed it at the nearest
building and was about to press the button to shoot the line when a voice
called behind him.

"Wait!" Jenny cried, and she began to run toward him. His eyes
got larger and larger the closer she came. She could swear he was afraid
of her. She found this somewhat amusing, but she didn't let that show.
She stopped about ten feet from him.

"I need to talk to you," she said softly.  She tried to look into
his eyes again, but he was avoiding her.

CJ could feel the panic. It was as if it had fingers wrapped
around his mind, and those fingers began to squeeze. The only thing he
could think to do for a few moments was to not make things worse by
looking at her.  He would have to talk to her, that much was certain.
And if he had any hope of her not recognizing him as soon as he opened his
mouth, he would have to disguise his voice somehow.

He cleared his throat and spoke. "What about?"  The voice that
came out of his mouth was low and somewhat raspy. It wasn't anything like
his normal voice. It sounded fake, he thought.  She would notice for sure.

        She thought his voice sounded funny, and she wondered if his fear
was causing that.   She felt bad because she was the one that had caused
his distress, and she was more grateful than words could say for his
help, but she had to know.  "Are you...." she trailed off.

        "Am I what?" he asked tersely, his voice beginning to give a bit.

        "Are you Superman's son?" She felt relieved that she had finally
gotten it out.

        Robin closed his eyes briefly, inhaling sharply. He knew it had
been coming. Jon was the lucky one, he could escape quickly. CJ wasn't so
lucky. A small part of him thought that even if he could escape at
superspeed, maybe he didn't want to.  He didn't want to have to answer
this question, though. He opened his eyes again and looked over at her.
In her left hand she still held the knife that the thug had tried to stab
him with. It was now twisted, mangled, like it had been run over or
melted.  Jenny's eyes caught what he was looking at, and they immediately
shifted to his midsection in the area where the knife would've impacted.
He moved his gaze there, too.  The black spandex that stretched out over
his abdomen didn't contain a flaw - you would never know that it had just
met the business end of a knife. His eyes moved to meet hers again and he
spoke softly, the fake voice forgotten. "What do you think?"

        She hesitated. "I think you are."

        "Well there you go," he said and made a move to leave again.

        "WAIT!" she cried.

        He turned toward her again, suddenly angry. "Look, I didn't come
here for the third degree. I came here to help you. You're fine, that
scumbag is in jail, and my job is now finished