An Honest Wager
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“What's the matter, Bats?” the Flash teased as Nightwing took the seat usually reserved for Green Lantern. “Couldn't get a sitter?”
“Barry, don't pick on him,” Clark chided.
“I, for one, am honored to finally meet Bruce's protege,” Wonder Woman said, graciously. She extended a hand to the former sidekick. “Welcome. Your mentor speaks very highly of you.”
“Why, thank you!” the young man beamed, returning the hand-shake. “It's an honor to meet you too, um, Your Highness?”
“Just Diana,” she corrected with a smile.
He nodded. “Dick.”
Flash looked up at the Batman. “So, did you bring the...?”
“Yes,” the Dark Knight replied. He set a deck of cards down on the table. “Shall we begin?”
There was a crack of thunder as Barry vanished from the room, reappearing with a few large bowls of chips and pretzels. “I'm ready when you guys are!”
Clark reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out some money, tossing the usual amount onto the table for ante. Each member of the Justice League, plus one guest, followed suit. “Do you know how to play?” he asked their newcomer.
Dick smirked at him. “Do you?”
He slumped in his seat as the heroes on either side of him broke out into peals of laughter.
“I take it Bruce already told you how these meet-ups usually go?” Barry asked, clearly struggling to breathe. Across the table, the corners of Bruce's mouth seemed to twitch as he quietly shuffled the deck.
“Just shut up and deal the cards,” Clark muttered.
The laughter died down as Bruce began flicking cards towards each of them. There was something strange about them... Clark scrutinized the cards in his hand, then frowned when the realization clicked. “Bruce, why do the cards have lead backing?!”
Across the table from him, the Batman smirked. “Why do you know it's lead?”
After yet another laugh around the table at his expense, Diana nudged him with her elbow. “He's got you, there.”
Clark stared down at his cards, his cheeks burning.
Bruce leaned back in his chair with his own cards, seeming to contemplate the pile of money in front of them. “How about we make this one interesting?” he said.
Barry looked up from a bowl of pretzels. “You do realize that you're the only one here who thinks we play for buttons?”
Bruce ignored him. “How about this: after the game, the loser has to reveal their secret identity to someone important to them. Someone of the winner's choosing.” He locked eyes with Clark, then suddenly turned to the Amazon beside him. “So, Diana: if you lost to me, you would have to tell Steve about Wonder Woman's connection to Ms. Prince.”
Diana bit her lip, staring down at the cards in her hand. “Hmmm...”
“Why do you sound like it's going be a one-on-one showdown?” Barry asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because I fully expect most of you to chicken out.” Bruce's eyes went to Clark again.
Diana gave a curt nod. “I am not afraid of the truth,” she said. “I'll accept this wager.”
“It's probably high time Lois knew,” Dick commented, teaming up with his old mentor in Operation: Stare At Clark.
“Things with Lois are...complicated,” Clark mumbled, then glanced over at the speedster to his right. “What about you, Barry? Aren't you and Iris already engaged?”
Barry squirmed, staring down at his cards. “Well—hey! Wait a minute!” He glared at Bruce. “Is Mr. I'm-Married-to-Crime-Fighting going to tell us what to do in our relationships, when he doesn't even have a girlfriend?”
Dick grinned up at his mentor. “He's got you there, Bruce,” he teased, earning a very sharp glare from the detective.
“He has a point,” Clark agreed, joining forces with the hero of Central City. “What do you get to pay up if you lose?”
Bruce snorted. “You mean besides all the cash on the table?”
“We mean besides all the loose change you found in your couch last night,” Barry retorted with a grin. “Come on, Bats; you wanted to make this interesting.” He feigned a gasp. “Or is the Batman a chicken?”
Dick chuckled and let out a few clucks and squawks, deepening Bruce's glare.
“Fine.” Bruce lowered his cards slightly and scanned the faces gathered around the table. “Who do you all suggest?”
“Well,” Clark began when no one else seemed ready or willing to break the ensuing silence, “you have been working with Commissioner Gordon for a long time...”
“Hey, that's right!” said Barry. “All these years, blindly trusting some guy in a mask...”
Diana nodded. “He certainly deserves to know.”
“Definitely,” Dick agreed, causing Batman to turn around in his seat and face him fully.
“Who's side are you on?” Bruce demanded.
Dick only grinned. “It's every man for himself, Bruce,” he replied. “That's what you said when you invited me; remember?”
After a long moment, Bruce sighed. “Fine. But you'd better hope that you lose to someone who only knows about Barbara.”
Dick's smile flickered only briefly. “Hey, I'm here to win, thank you very much! In fact...” He glanced down at his cards with a smug expression. “I'll raise the bet. The losers have to make their confessions *in drag*.”
Bruce rolled his eyes.
Barry winced. “Yeah...no. If I show up at Iris's apartment in a dress and tell her there's something I've been keeping from her, it's not going to go well. I'm out.” He tossed his cards down.
Clark merely shrugged. “Lois has already seen me in worse get-ups,” he admitted. “I'm still in.”
“So, I would wear...a suit?” Diana asked, a confused frown puckering her forehead.
“And a mustache,” Barry chimed in, his freed hands now cradling one of the chip bowls. “Got to keep it equally awkward!”
Diana nodded, then stared down at her cards. “Whoever gets confessed to will probably be upset at being deceived for so long,” she reflected. After a long pause, she straightened in her chair. “I will raise this bet so that the loser must treat this person to a very nice dinner.”
That scared off exactly nobody.
“You call that a bet?” Dick teased.
“Yeah,” Clark agreed. “How about something more out there, like 'the confession has to be in song'?”
The corner of her mouth quirked upward. “Are you officially raising?”
All eyes turned to Clark.
He checked his cards again. It was a pretty good hand... “You know what? Yes. Yes I am.”
The new arrangement was fine with the others. Bruce reached for the deck. “How many cards, Kent?”
After much contemplation, Clark only swapped out one card. Diana and Dick each took two. Bruce took nothing. Barry took the other bowl of chips.
Clark did his best to keep a neutral expression as he studied his cards. This had to be the best hand he'd ever held in his life! He glanced at Bruce, wondering if he should dare to raise the stakes again. “You know,” he finally said, “in the spirit of giving this person more insight into our lives, how about if the losers officially invite them to the next meet-up so we can ask them how it went?”
Barry grinned. “They should bring photos!” He chimed in.
“You're out, remember?” Bruce said, gruffly.
“But I'm not,” Clark pointed out, taking up his fallen comrade's cause. “Photos, it is!”
Bruce sighed.
Diana stared down at her cards, then nodded once. “The loser should also give this person a day of complete honesty,” she decided, glancing up at Clark for some reason. “Answer all of her questions, holding nothing back.”
“Dick, fold your cards,” Bruce ordered.
The younger vigilante gaped at him. “Excuse me?! I'm just about to win a nice pile of money and some photos of Superman in a dress!”
“No,” said Bruce, “you're about to sink into Crap Lake. Leave it at the private drag concert and walk away.”
Dick stared silently at him for a moment, then sighed and dropped his cards. “Fold,” he muttered.
“How about you, Bruce?” Clark goaded. “Afraid of a little extra honesty?”'
Bruce's eyes narrowed. “Loser gets monitor duty for a month,” he growled.
“Losers fill in for the winner for two weeks, so he can take his girlfriend on a nice vacation.” Clark smirked.
“Confident, are we?” Bruce asked him.
Clark grinned over the top of his cards. “What was your first clue, Detective?”
“Well, I'm not,” Diana admitted, placing her cards face-down in front of her. “I'm afraid recent events have been keeping me too busy to risk adding Batman's duties to my own.”
“Batman's duties?” Clark echoed, slightly offended. “Hey, I'm the one who made that bet! Does it even occur to you that I just might be the winner tonight?”
Diana gave a non-committal shrug.
“Well, I could be!” Clark protested.
The Batman grinned at him from across the table. “Are you calling it then, Kent?”
Clark glanced down at his cards, then back up at the Batman's smug smirk. “Yes. I'm calling it.”
**********
Lois set her champagne glass down beside her plate. “So that's what happened?” she asked, her steely gaze still fixed on Clark's. “Two years of lies, abandonment, and cheesy excuses all finally end because of a poker game?” She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing further.
Clark sighed, nudging the homemade lava cake towards her in the hopes that chocolate would soften her mood a little. “It ends because I realized that Br—uh, that Batman was right. See, I, uh, talk about you a lot, and I know he only started that bet because he knew that it was time I told you everything.”
“And you trust the romantic advice of a guy who apparently has no girlfriend?” she challenged.
He picked up the knife and cut into the cake, letting the dark chocolate ooze out onto the plate. “It's more of a 'learn from my mistakes' kind of thing.” He carved out a small slice and set it on a plate for her. “Most of the league doesn't know what he's been through, but...yeah. This is exactly the kind of situation I'd trust his opinion on.”
Her gaze flicked down to the slice, and he could see her wavering. After a moment, she snatched up the plate, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she savored the first bite. She leaned back in her chair. “So, I get to ask you anything?” she clarified, gesturing at him with her fork.
“Anything you like,” he answered with a nod.
“And you're going to tell me the truth?” she pressed, taking another bite of the cake. “The whole truth? For the entire day?”
“For my entire life,” Clark corrected, resting his arms on the table. “I'm done lying to you, Lois.”
She looked him over carefully, then swallowed another bite. “So, shouldn't you be in drag, right now?” she asked, the last bit of anger finally gone from her voice. She even smiled. “Come to think of it, I didn't even get my song!”
Clark smiled back at her and reached for his own champagne. “Ah, but like I said: this is all just because I realized that he was right. I didn't actually lose the bet.”
The End
