Flash Fiction (Take 16 Final)

[dracoqueen22]

a/n: And now for the last three flash fiction. I do hope you enjoy!

For tmelange 
Prompt: Superman/Batman, “Catch me if you can”

Fandom: Justice League Animated 'verse. Most likely. Warnings: None

It is virtually impossible to speak to Superman when he is avoiding you, Batman has discovered. Clark Kent, on the other hand, is much easier to trap. And Bruce has no shame in making it a public venue, one Clark cannot escape. Where Bruce can be honest, and purposefully vague for the sake of perceptive paparazzi. Where he can make his case known and Clark won't have a choice but to listen.

After all, how else will Bruce be able to explain himself?

“Mr. Wayne?” A reporter calls out his name, dragging his attention to the conference at hand. Wayne Enterprises had just signed another agreement with some up and coming electronics company in Metropolis and as usual, it is big news.

Which means that the Daily Planet would most definitely be covering said event. Which means they would have to send one of their reporters, who just so happens to be Clark.

Clark who is not happy with this subtle manipulation on Bruce's part. Clark who is glowering behind his professional mask of interest.

“What first drew your attention to Obsidian Enterprises?” the reporter asks.

“I have a business associate,” Bruce answers, letting his eyes wander over the reporter before he focuses intently on Clark, without making it seem he's doing so. “An old friend of mine who has proven to have a good sense of judgment and a keen understanding of what new technologies we are truly capable of.”

Just a friend,Clark, Bruce stresses internally. A friend. An old friend. Not an old lover. Not whatever else stupid idea Clark's gotten into his fool head. Just a friend.

Another reporter steps up to bat. “In which project, specifically, does Wayne Enterprises have an interest?”

Bruce smiles the slow, easygoing and diplomatic smile of Bruce Wayne. “They have many plans that could prove profitable, but I have my sights set on a design for interstellar shielding.” He pauses, for effect, and looks at Clark again. “I think we can all agree that protecting those that are important to us is a priority.”

Clark tilts his head to the side, some of the latent anger evaporating from his tense posture. He's smart enough to read between the lines. And maybe it's enough for him to stand still long enough for Bruce to explain. Actually, Clark owes it to Bruce to listen, for all those times Bruce has caught him in compromising positions with a certain Ms. Lane.

The conference continues, but Bruce's point has been made. And he won't be surprised if a blue and red blur finds his way to the Batcave tonight. In fact, he had better.

 

For mistress_pirate 
Prompt: Sleet and Lady Crysan, “you can't judge a book by it's cover”

Universe: War of the Animum. Warnings: None

Sleet wakes up muzzily, his entire body surrounded by a haze of warmth and comfort, light, clean scents floating to his nose. It takes him a minute to remember where he is.

Oh. Right. At Lady Crysan's. Sleet bites back a yawn and stretches out his limbs as he rolls over, painfully jealous of Lady Crysan's accommodations. Her bed is most comfortable.

“You're awake I see.”

He pops his head out of the thick blanket, gazing blearily around until he catches sight of Lady Crysan, fully robed and sitting in a chair, something propped in her lap. “Yeah,” Sleet says, and turns his head toward the window. “What time is it?”

“You were only asleep for three hours.” Amusement curls her lips as she looks up at him, brown eyes dancing. “The life of a thief must be so exhausting.”

Sleet huffs, but there's little offense. He sits up, idly scratching at his bare chest. “Someday, I'm going to steal this bed out from under you.”

Her smile widens as she chuckles. “Shall I count you as one of my girls then?”

He feels his face burn. “That's not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” Her eyebrow arches as her hand moves, turning a page in her book. “And I stand by my observation.”

Sleet twitches. Lady Crysan is one of the few who quickly saw through his act. From their first meeting, she has always insisted on taking care of Sleet personally. And in return, Sleet pays her for the privilege of sleeping in her bed, but little else.

He changes the subject. “What are you reading?”

“Something you've probably never heard of.”

Sleet rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha. Poke fun at the the thief because he probably can't read, right?” He folds his arms across his chest, staring at her. “I can, you know. My mother made me read all the classics.”

Lady Crysan shifts position. “Even Moralte's Shifting Seasons?”

Sleet shudders. “More times than I'd like. It was her favorite.”

Lady Crysan smiles approvingly. “I knew there was a reason we got along.”

 

For ttenandayo 
Prompt: Sanzo and Gojyo, “Don't patronize me”

Fandom: Saiyuki. Warnings for some violence, a slashy kiss

“Ow!” Gojyo hisses, rubbing at his ear where the famous fan had whacked him sharply, enough to sting. “Damn it, Sanzo. That fuckin' hurts!”

“That's the point, kappa!” Sanzo snarls, looking fit to kill as he stalks toward Gojyo with murder in those near-purple eyes of his and anger twisting his face into something ugly. “If it didn't, it wouldn't be much of a punishment, now would it?”

Gojyo backs off another step. Not so much afraid of Sanzo as he is cautious and unwilling to actually damage the priest. Besides, should he leave a bruise on Sanzo, then the idiot monkey gets involved, and piss off the monkey enough, and the shiny piece of gold metal on his head snaps. Gojyo did not want to deal with Seiten Taisen.

His hands ball into fists at his side. “You don't have the right to punish me!” Gojyo hisses in return. “I didn't do anything!” Which sort of stomps all over his point. He doesn't need to justify anything to Sanzo because hell, it's not like Sanzo's his father or anything. They aren't even real lovers.

Just, every once in a while, Sanzo climbs into his bed and Gojyo obliges because, hell, he'd be a fool not to! Sanzo's all kinds of hot and Gojyo's never had a problem being free with his affections. So where does Sanzo get off being all possessive or something? He doesn’t have the right to be jealous!

Sanzo advances, that damn fan raised again, and if he hits Gojyo once more, Gojyo can't be certain his battle reflexes won't respond with violence. “Can't keep your dick to yourself for one day, can you?” Sanzo demands, and really, Gojyo's half-glad that Hakkai and Goku aren't here, while another part of him wishes they were because if there's one person who's halfway decent at Sanzo-soothing, it's Hakkai.

“Yeah? And what's it to you?” Gojyo retorts, baring his teeth. “Last I checked, ya didn't lower yourself to pair with a half-breed.”

Sanzo draws up short, an almost primal hiss escaping from his mouth. His fingers flex around his fan. “I assumed you were smart enough to realize it was implied!”

“Tcha! I can't read your damned mind!” Gojyo slashes a hand through the air, infinitely glad that they've yet to attract an audience despite the volume of their argument.

The fan drops to the ground. “Then let me make it clear to you,” Sanzo snarls, and with speed that never fails to surprise Gojyo, crosses the distance between them, and snaps Gojyo up by a grip to his vest. “You're mine.” His mouth slants over Gojyo, half-bite, half-kiss, an explosion of passion that makes Gojyo moan.

Well, if he puts it that way...
 

a/n: And that's it for the flash fiction this week. Coming up soon: more The Beautiful Lie, more of Whispers of Yesterday, and more of whatever else I can throw out here for your reading consumption.