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The moment Clarke entered the lavish establishment she felt completely out of place. The hostess eyed her suspiciously from behind her welcome stand. Clarke just pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, pulled her worn-out messenger bag up her shoulder and approached the elegantly dressed woman.
- Uhhh… Hi, my name is Clarke Kent, I have a friend waiting at a table for me? - the unsure sound of her voiced pierced through the ambient piano music coating the restaurant.
Upon hearing Clarke introduce herself the hostess completely changed her demeanor. She lit up with her brightest smile and nodded her head vigorously.
- Yes, yes absolutely, ma'am. If you would follow me, please.
The hostess stepped onto the main floor of the restaurant, Clarke following diligently in every step, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the smartly dressed patrons broke away from their glasses of expensive liquors an eyed her with what seemed like pity. Clarke sighed with relief mentally as the woman stopped before a table obscured from the rest of the guests by a thick divider. Of course, Bryce would choose the most private part in the whole establishment and for once Clarke really appreciated it.
Bryce was sitting with her back turned to them, her gaze focused on the breathtaking Metropolis skyline, a bright glowing wonder piercing through the dark of the night.
- Miss Wayne, your guest has arrived, ma’am. - The hostess announced proudly, visibly puffing her chest like a bird.
Bryce turned immediately, her gaze completely glazing over the employee and instead focusing on Clarke. A small, genuine smile formed on her face as the billionaire motioned for Clarke to take the seat opposite hers, which the woman did, taking off her coat and hanging her bag on the chair. Bryce quickly reformed herself by turning to the hostess and replying:
- Thank you. Would you mind bringing us something to drink? Your finest wine perhaps?- Naturally, of course, ma’am. - The hostess nodded and left them alone, disappearing quickly into the ambiance of the soft jazz.
Bryce turned to Clarke, eyeing her just like the partons, but her gaze lacked judgment, she seemed taken aback.
- Have you just finished work, Clarke?
- Yeah, I came straight from the Planet. Is everything alright? - Clarke was worried. She was expecting an emergency, maybe a breakout at Arkham, maybe a covert mission that required Bryce to seek out her help.
- Everything’s fine. Why did you finish so late? It’s 8 PM. - Bryce discarded Clarke’s worry and seemed truly curious about the reporter violating the 9-5 daily routine.
- I had a few too many emergencies to handle and still had to submit my article before today’s deadline. Can’t tell Perry to cut me some slack because I sneak out from work to fly around saving people from house fires and supervillains. - Clarke explained, trying to continue with her own narrative: - I don’t understand, Bryce. If nothing’s going on then why the meeting? In the most expensive restaurant in Metropolis? With ridiculously overpriced wine?
Bryce averted her gaze and instead focused on the city skyline again.
- I, uh… I wanted to see you. - She admitted to the window and Clarke’s heart skipped a beat. She felt a blush creep up on her cheeks as she tried to explain to herself mentally that Bryce just wanted to spend some time with her best friend.
Bryce finally decided to face Clarke and once again moved her eyes to meet the other woman’s. The billionaire was hoping that the Kryptonian wasn't eavesdropping on her heart, because her chest felt heavy from all the violent throbbing of the treacherous organ.
Bryce noticed Clarke’s blush and admittingly thought that the restaurant could use some fresh lofty air.
- That’s… I’m glad then. I wanted to see you too. - Clarke finally responded, and was actually preparing to add a small “I like spending time with you like that” but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the hostess.
The woman placed a carved wine bottle in the center of the marble table and offered two impeccably clean shiny glasses. She then opened the bottle with the confidence of an expert and poured the gold liquor into their dishes. The two women were then handed menus and after thanking the hostess and being promised a swift return, were left alone once again.
Clarke eyed the meals with curiosity but her eyes immediately landed on the ridiculous prices. After spotting a dish worth half her monthly rent she protested:
- Bryce, this place is way too expensive.
The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes:
- It’s on me, Clarke. I’m paying. Just order something you like. - The voice came from behind the leather-clad menu.
- I hate when you do that.
Bryce looked up from her menu, her puzzled gaze staring intently at Clarke.
- Do what?
- Patronize me.
- I don’t…. - Bryce put the menu down. - I just want to… do nice things for you. - Now Bryce felt a blush settle on her face and felt absolutely ridiculous. Like a teenager trying to form sentences in front of their crush.
Clarke swallowed and bit her lower lip. What an ungrateful ass you are Kent. Bryce is trying to appreciate you for being friends for so long and you just go and ruin everything.
- I’m sorry, Bryce. I overreacted. Let’s drink the wine and then order something? I’m starving actually.
A small smile formed on Bryce’s lips. Both of the women lifted their glasses and took a sip of the beverage. The liquid tasted heavenly and Clarke was sure Diana would have compared it to the Nectar of The Gods if she were here.
- This is really good. - Clarke commented and Bryce’s smile widened.
The hostess returned, drowning them with shiny smiles, that made Clarke question just how genuine they were.
- May I take your order now?
Clarke’s brows shoot up in panic as she hadn’t chosen anything. Bryce handled the situation by ordering two dishes of something French Clarke didn’t understand and before the woman went away stopped her and added:
- Oh, and if my friend tries to pay for anything, please arrest her.
The hostess chuckled and agreed, giving them their privacy.
Clarke rolled her eyes but was grateful for Bryce handling the situation so well.
- So what’s the article about? - Bryce asked from behind her glass of wine.
- What article? - Clarke furrowed her brows in a questioning look, taking a sip of her own glass.
- The one you wrote today for the deadline?
- Oh! - Clarke mentally scolded herself for being aloof. - It was about you actually.
Bryce’s brows shoot up in surprise, waiting for a follow-up explanation.
- Well, you among other things. Perry wanted me to write about the recently joined space project between Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp. And well, I obviously had to mention you. - Clarke explained, feeling heat forming upon her face.
- You write about me a lot. - Bryce pointed out in a stoic tone, smirking slyly into her glass of wine.
- Well… - The reporter felt flustered, trying to explain her interest without giving away too much, but then came to a realization.- Wait, you read the Daily Planet? Do you read my articles?
- Alfred keeps newspaper clippings of any article that mentions me. He’s a fan I guess - The billionaire answered, trying really hard not to burst into laughter.
- Wait… You’re kidding, right?
- Yeah. But I do read your articles. And not only the ones about me. I like your writing. - Bryce admitted and sent the woman a genuine smile. The billionaire's stomach was riddled with butterflies from seeing her friend confused and tongue-tied and blushing at the compliment.
Clarke tried to get a hold of herself and cleared her throat before diverting the conversation to the original topic
- Perry basically elected me the expert on all things concerning you. He always sends me to your parties, looking for a scoop or unearthing a new scandal. And you always deliver.
- That’s bold of him, considering I own the Planet. - Bryce put the glass away and focused her attention on Clarke’s baby blues.
- What can I say, Bryce? You sell papers. Or rather your scandals do. - Clarke admitted, something reminiscent of a hint of pain lingered in her voice.
Bryce answered with a mixture of a grunt and a sigh. Clarke bit her lower lip and decided to ask:
- Do you ever get tired of this act? Of pretending to be such an awful person with a shady reputation? - “With so many women swooning over you” she bit her tongue on the last part.
- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I… don’t like it when people accuse me of disrespecting my parent's memory. They tell me my parents wouldn't approve of this lifestyle and… that they would be ashamed of me. But I guess the people that I truly care about know who I really am. You know who I am and… that's enough for me. - Bryce blurted out and immediately wanted to disappear. That’s a line you don’t cross, you dumbass. Bryce averted her gaze and tried to build the walls up again, in case Clarke wanted to follow up on that last remark. She needed to reestablish her safety again and a perfect opportunity was heading straight to their table.
Before Clarke could say anything, and she was about to express her great appreciation of the rare burst of admitting emotion and confirming their lengthy friendship, the hostess appeared with their meals. Clarke inhaled the heavenly smell of the expensive dish but instead of appreciating the visual feast, her eyes were focused on Bryce. And Bryce was… she was checking the hostess out. The attractive woman sported a blush and left with her hips swaying suggestively. Clarke felt her heart drop for a second as Bryce continued to stare longingly at the bold employee. An unexplainable rage overcame the reporter and any rational thoughts telling her that Bryce wasn’t her to lose flew out of the window.
- Do you sleep with them? - The question was dripping with venom as Clarke began violently cutting her perfect steak.
Bryce’s gaze returned to the reporter sitting before her and her heart skipped a beat again. There go the walls. Get a hold of yourself you fool.
- Who?
- The models and celebrities and actresses and heiresses? - Clarke took the first bite of the meat which then literally melted in her mouth. She wanted to tell Bryce how good it was but her jealous streak was still ready for a confrontation.
- Uh… sometimes. - “When I really miss you” The last part was lost in the great confused hole of the billionaire's heart. - But not as much as the media says. - She added slowly, starting to sense the tense undertone of their conversation.
- Are you going to sleep with the hostess?
“ I want to sleep with you” - Why do you care, Clarke? We’re not…
Before Clarke could stop and let the rational thoughts guide her out of the mess she initiated she blurted out:
- I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to sleep with her.
Bryce’s eyes and mouth parted in surprise as her heart began racing. Upon realizing what she said, Clarke’s face completely covered with a crimson blush.
- Rao, I’m sorry Bryce I don’t know what’s gotten into me, it’s not my place to… - Clarke began stuttering out an apology but was cut off by Bryce’s short but impactful:
- Okay. I won’t.
Oblivious to each other's feelings, they both felt like that exchange breached the invisible boundaries they never settled.
Silence fell between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was never uncomfortable between them. It just felt like a tense pause containing a lot of unsaid declarations.
They ate in silence for a while, Clarke allowing herself to listen to Bryce’s strong and steady heartbeat which would skip a beat from time to time when their eyes met and they smiled gently at each other. Finally, Bryce broke the silence:
- How are your parents? And how’s Kara settling in Smallville?
Clarke appreciated the questions, especially because she knew that Bryce genuinely cared about the answers.
- Ma and Pa are doing great, I feel like they’re reliving their youth with Kara around. And she’s great, she’s adapting really well. She likes the school, she’s good at biology of all things. And she’s handling her powers better than I did, but I think that’s thanks to a certain brilliant teacher that drills her in the Watchtower training simulators. - Clarke concluded shooting an affectionate look at the woman.
Bryce bit her lip, feeling a string of guilt building up in her abdomen:
- I know I can be hard on her, but I just want her to be safe. Her and the League members she goes on a mission with. I bet you want to incinerate me every time she complains about me, don’t you?
Clarke chuckled. and bit her lower lip.
- I… uh. I have trouble staying mad at you.
Bryce smiled and looked at the Metropolis skyline behind the panoramic window again. Clarke’s gaze followed.
- I really like it here, Clarke. It’s… so much brighter than Gotham. - Bryce shifted her gaze onto the woman sitting opposite her.
- You never told me why you’re here. - Clarke’s baby blues met the steel blue of Bryce’s eyes. - Are you sealing the deal for the spacewalkers with LexCorp?
Bryce laughed and Clarke wanted to replay that rare sound over and over in her head.
- Are you interviewing me, Miss Kent? I think you need an appointment for that.
- I try all the time, you’re always booked up.
- I came to see you. - Bryce blurted out, shifting the conversation from the dangerously flirtatious banter to the original track.
Clarke was stunned.
- You came all the way to Metropolis just to see me?
Bryce shrugged nonchalantly but mentally was about to explode. J’onn would have a field day if he was here.
- We rescheduled this week’s League meeting and J’onn hasn’t paired us up for a mission together in a while. I guess I.... - Bryce trailed off, not really able to finish the confession. These words carried too much weight.
Clarke was willing to, though.
- I missed you too, Bryce.
The reporter reached for the billionaire's hand resting on the cold surface of the table. Bryce watched holding her breath, waiting for another boundary to be shattered tonight. The moment Clarke’s fingers touched the tips of Bryce’s the heroes were violently pulled back into reality by a familiar voice:
- Can I get you anything else, ma’ams?
Bryce yanked her hand back and averted Clarke’s gaze. Instead, she replied to the hostess:
- No, thank you. Actually, may we have the check, please?
- Of course, ma’am. - The hostess collected their dishes and left.
Clarke cleared her throat.
- I’ll call us a cab. - Bryce offered, pulling out her phone with a Wayne Enterprises logo engraved into its back.
- My apartment is not that far from here. Uhh… We can walk these few blocks if you’d like? - Clarke offered, feeling like the moment has been lost. - It’s a really nice evening. - She added, emphasizing her preference for a nice fall evening walk.
Bryce furrowed her brows and put the phone back into the pocket of her suit jacket.
- Alright. - She sent Clarke one of her smiles, the real ones, not the “Brycie’s in the house, ladies!” fake smiles.
The hostess returned with the bill and Bryce paid for it with cash, shooting murderous looks at the smallest movement made by Clarke in the direction of the reporter’s wallet. The hostess managed to slip a small slip of paper with her phone number on it in between the bill and winked at Bryce before leaving their table. The billionaire winced and sent an apologizing look towards the reporter. The slip of paper remained on the table, with a considerable tip and a scribbled: “Sorry I gave you the wrong impression” on it.
They took the elevator down from the restaurant located on the last floor on Metropolis’ tallest skyscraper and stepped into the fresh chilly air of the street.
They walked side by side, Bryce putting her hands in the pockets of her designer gray coat and Clarke crossing her arms on her chest, giving the impression for their fellow passersby that her thin thriftshop jacket was not meant to withstand the chilliness of a fall Metropolis evening.
They walked in silence, appreciating the orange palette painted on the trees and observing the nightlife which was starting to bud in the heart of Metropolis’ downtown.
- Why did the chicken cross the road? - As they approached Clarke’s apartment building, Bryce suddenly broke the silence, genuinely asking something that Clarke thought she would never hear coming from the mouth of the dark vigilante.
- I’m sorry? Are you okay Bryce? - Clarke stopped abruptly, genuinely concerned about the state of Bryce’s mind. She cautiously put her hand on the billionaire's shoulder, facing the taller woman, and studying her eyes carefully in search of some explanation
Bryce gently put her own hand on Clarke’s, squeezing softly.
- Alfred always tells me lame jokes when I’m mad at him. - Bryce finally explained, staring into the other woman’s baby blues intently.
A wave of relief flooded Clarke’s body. So Bryce didn’t go insane after all.
- I’m not mad at you. - She responded softly, suddenly realizing how close they were. Their chests were almost touching. Clarke could feel the heat of the other woman’s body radiating in the chilly air. She swallowed. - So? Why did the chicken cross the road? - She asked biting her lower lip and pressing her body against Bryce’s.
The billionaire's eyes widened as she hesitated for a moment. But then she raised her other hand and gently cupped Clarke’s cheek. She felt the reporter lean into the touch as the billionaire responded:
- To get to the other side.
Bryce leaned down as Clarke closed her eyes. Their noses brushed against each other as their lips parted but before their lips could touch and the boundaries they never set up completely shatter, a voiced suddenly stopped them.
- Excuse me, do you guys know how to get to Central Station?
They broke apart, setting a considerable distance between each other.
Bryce eyed the confused tourist with rage and Clarke quickly intervened before the vigilante would break her sacred “no killing” rule.
Clarke approached the tourist as he extended a map in her direction. She inspected it closely and sighed before turning the paper around and then pointing at the right spot.
- It’s not that far away. Just turn right on the next corner and walk down Main Street until you see the building. - Just to make sure the man would get to his destination safely she added - It’s the one with big glowy ‘Metropolis Central Station’ letters on the front, okay?
The man nodded vigorously and sent them a long string of ‘thank yous’ before disappearing behind a corner.
Both of them chuckled at the strange encounter until the moment passed and they were left with lingering tension.
- Do you want to come on up? We could watch some bad movies and...
Bryce sighed, interrupting Clarke’s attempts at fixing the situation
- I think we both know how bad of an idea that is, Clarke. - She said, feeling a sharp pain pierce through her heart.
Clarke furrowed her brows and nodded, lacking the eagerness of the tourist.
- Yeah, I… suppose so. Are you going back to Gotham?
- Yeah. - Bryce cleared her throat. - I’ll see you at the Tower.
The billionaire started walking away but before leaving she turned one last time and added:
- Looking forward to reading that article.
Clarke chuckled and responded:
- Make sure Alfred adds it to the collection!
Bryce smiled and walked away, heading into the direction of Main Street in order to hail a cab.
Clarke stood in front of the entrance to the building for a few more minutes before finally stepping into the stairway.
“You’re such a fucking idiot.” They both thought to themselves.