There is a moment, when Martha is holding her emotions in check and no one is saying anything to threaten her grip there, that Bruce looks at her with something shuttered behind his expression. He manages to miss her gaze with it-- an understanding that has nothing to do with having wronged Clark so badly. His sympathy is, for a flicker of time, so exact there can be no other conclusion.
(Only Kryptonians get to come back from the dead. The moment passes without attention on it.)
Beer, again. Bruce meets Clark's eyes after skimming over the label, familiar for having guessed it, north of here. It feels like an inside joke, and he hasn't had one of those in ages. Budweiser guy after all.
If it feels a little like flirting, that's fine.
Bruce tells them that Alfred doesn't actually believe several of these dishes exist, especially the sweet potato and marshmallow one; too English, and too east coast after that, and so he photographs it to be sent to his adopted father. To be shortly exchanged for pictures of a proper UK spread, including Christmas pudding, which Bruce assures them is actually revolting. Yams are superior, he's decided, having had them all of once, right now.
no subject
(Only Kryptonians get to come back from the dead. The moment passes without attention on it.)
Beer, again. Bruce meets Clark's eyes after skimming over the label, familiar for having guessed it, north of here. It feels like an inside joke, and he hasn't had one of those in ages. Budweiser guy after all.
If it feels a little like flirting, that's fine.
Bruce tells them that Alfred doesn't actually believe several of these dishes exist, especially the sweet potato and marshmallow one; too English, and too east coast after that, and so he photographs it to be sent to his adopted father. To be shortly exchanged for pictures of a proper UK spread, including Christmas pudding, which Bruce assures them is actually revolting. Yams are superior, he's decided, having had them all of once, right now.