Something There

Lois sat on her bed, knees pulled up so she could bury her head in them.
   "Lois? Are you okay?"
   Lois abruptly lifted her head and looked to the left.  Her bedroom had an attached mini-balcony, and someone was standing on it.  She couldn't see who it was at first, her watery eyes muddling her vision, but there was something calming about the stranger's voice that kept her from being startled.  She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times.
   It was Clark.
   "Clark...What are you doing here?"
   "...I heard you crying.  What's wrong?"
   She wanted to try and change the subject; to ask him how he'd possibly heard her crying from wherever he'd been earlier—and wasn't he supposed to be at Diana's right about now?—but she knew he wouldn't let her slide like that.
   "Bruce... he broke up with me."
   Clark was completely surprised, and more than a little angry.  Why on Earth would Bruce break up with Lois? They cared so much for one another; it just didn't make sense...  Why would Bruce hurt her like this?...  No.  Lois was the one hurting right now; Bruce could be dealt with later.
   "Lois, I'm..." Clark didn't know what he could say that would help. "...I'm sorry."
   Lois managed to chuckle a little at him. "Heh. It's okay. Come in."
   Clark stepped inside, moving to sit next to Lois on the bed.
   "What happened?" he asked.
   Lois took a deep breath.  "He called me a little while ago.  He said that he was sorry, but—and I quote: 'a relationship wouldn't really fit into his life anymore.'  I tried to argue with him, but... he just said that it wasn't working between us anymore."
   Clark sat quietly without saying a word.  He remembered his mom telling him something about girls not actually wanting people to solve their problems when they were venting, but just to listen.  It sounded ridiculous, but he decided to try it anyway.
   "...I guess I should have seen it coming," Lois said. "It just... it happened so fast. We started arguing a month or two ago, and... I don't know.  Maybe... maybe I was too hard on him about the Diana thing, or... I don't know."
   "You don't like her, do you?" Clark asked.
   "Not entirely," Lois said without hesitation.
   "I figured as much," Clark said.
   "But Bruce sure seems to."
   Clark squinted a little. "What are you talking about?"
   Lois's head sank a little lower again.  "He spends hours every day with her.  And... I mean, look at her. She's gorgeous."
   Clark frowned.  "Bruce never even gave Diana an extra glance.  He trains with her because he wants to learn to fight, but I really don't think he likes her that way.  At all.  Actually, I'm not sure that he cares about her in the slightest."
   Lois's head sunk all the way back to her knees.  "It doesn't matter," she said, her voice muffled through her sweatpants.  "It was only after he met her that we started arguing."
   She lifted her head again, exasperation on her face.  "I mean, how am I supposed to keep him when he's got miss beauty-goddess staring him in the face every day?!?  Why would he even want me when I look like crap next to her?"
   Clark was a little taken aback.  He'd never seen Lois fuss over her physical appearance much; it was something he liked about her.  She just looked naturally beautiful the way she was.  No makeup, no hair-color-switching.  She wasn't beautiful like a movie star, exactly; but there was something in her eyes—a fire of sorts.  Diana had something similar, but it was different.  Diana's eyes burned with a solid gaze; resolute and firm.  Lois's eyes, even when they weren't moving, seemed to show a thousand things flying through her head at once.  Her mind was a flurry of intensity.
   "Lois," Clark said gently, "You're not any less attractive than Diana."
   Lois gave him a disbelieving raise of the eyebrow.  "Sure I'm not.  You don't have to sugar-coat it, Clark.  I'm not exactly the most—"
   Clark put his hand on hers, stopping her in mid-sentence.  "Lois, you're beautiful.  Don't ever think otherwise."
   Lois's eyes went wide and her cheeks burned a bit redder.  She felt like a stunned, embarrassed little girl.
   Through the bedroom door, Lois and Clark heard the apartment's front door open.  A few voices could be heard shuffling inside.
   "Sounds like your family's home," Clark said.
   "Yeah," Lois said, shaking off her stupor.  "They've been gone all night at my sister's play."
   "Alright, well, I'd better go," Clark said with a gentle smile.  He stood up and walked to the balcony again.
   Lois sat in the same place she'd been when he got there, watching him as he looked up towards the sky, ready to fly away again.
   "Wait!" she said, jumping up and running over to him.
She squeezed onto the tiny balcony next to him, and looked up into his eyes.  For a moment, it was as if something passed between them—a spark.
   "Clark... thank you," Lois said quietly, moving forward to hug him.  He gently put his arms around her and hugged her back.  They held each other for a quiet moment, perfectly still in the open air.
   They pulled back slowly.  Clark gave her one last caring smile before flying up and away.

Of Girls and Men

Diana finished her tale.
Clark frowned.  "So... your mom is prejudiced against men because of a cultural thing?"
"Clark! You don't understand; she was the Amazon queen in that story!  She lived through all that torture; all that pain, and she's been alone with our sisters on Themyscira for the past three thousand years."
Clark nearly took a step backward in surprise.  He should have figured that out already, but he hadn't realized just how old Hippolyta really was.  She only looked to be about forty.
"You've got to understand... my mom... she's seen the absolute worst of mankind.  Up until about a year ago, she hadn't even seen a man in—literally—ages.  When we first came to America, it was really hard for her to get over the idea that all men weren't out to harm her—and me."
"What was it that changed her mind?"
"Nothing," Diana sighed. "Just time.  She's still got a bit of anger, as you noticed.  But at least she doesn't snap at the slightest thing a man says or does anymore.  She's normally a pleasant person with them, actually."
Clark frowned again.  "Then why did she just treat me that way?" he asked.

Diana scrunched her face and sighed again with resigned frustration.  "It's because you're with me."
Clark suddenly felt a little embarrassed. "Uh... what?"
"The last boy I brought to meet my mother was Hal," Diana explained.  "She decided to trust him, and... well, after Hal and I broke up, I was... I was hurt.  So she got really mad.  I think she's worried that you'll do the same thing to me."
Clark was feeling even more uneasy.  "Uh... Diana, we're not... 'together'..."
"I know," Diana said in a slightly hushed tone.  "But you're taking me to the Christmas Formal, so that's close enough for her."
Clark wanted to roll his eyes.  From his perspective, it seemed more like she was taking him to the formal.

"I'm really sorry," Diana said apologetically. "I know you don't deserve her judgment."
Clark wanted to throw his arms in the air and yell "REALLY? YOU THINK?!" but he restrained himself.
"I mean, you're practically the only guy on the planet who's completely honorable," Diana joked.
At this, Clark took offense.  "What?" he said, half-squinting his eyes at her.
Diana shrugged, as though she was surprised he didn't agree.  "Well, you kinda have to agree, Clark.  Most men are chauvinistic and self-centered."
Clark was shocked, and more than a little ticked off.  He didn't know what to say; his head was spinning.  He was disappointed in her as a friend, but in other ways, too.  Whether or not he'd admitted it to himself, he'd come over for dinner at the Princes' not only because Diana had "asked," but because some part of him was actually somewhat interested in her, and wanted to know if perhaps she was someone he could see himself dating.  As it was turning out, however, that possibility was getting less and less likely.  Even if she wasn't nearly as bad as her mother, Diana was simply too judgmental and closed-minded.

Clark turned to lean over the balcony, taking a deep breath.
Girls were constantly frustrating for him.  Lana Lang, the girl he'd had a crush on back in Smallville, hadn't really given him a second look.  Chloe was an amazing friend, and Clark knew that she had romantic feelings for him, but he wasn't sure that changing their relationship would be a good idea, especially since she was in Smallville and he was consciously trying to spend as little time there as possible.  Diana was stunningly gorgeous and had powers like Clark, but, as Clark was now discovering, she had some nightmarish beliefs about humankind.  The only other girl in Clark's life was Lois.
Lois was a constant enigma to Clark.  Ultimately, she was Bruce's girlfriend, and that was the end of it.  Clark would never even let himself think about Lois as long as she was still with Bruce.  And yet, it felt as though something was... there.  Clark couldn't understand what it was, exactly.  He figured most people would call it chemistry, but that didn't quite match up.  He found himself constantly aware of where she was and what she was doing.  It was as though his super-hearing somehow locked onto her, and wouldn't let go.  Even though he normally heard all the city noise—every car horn, every TV set, every voice—as one constant blaring jumble, he could distinctly hear her scream from across the city.
Lois had a tendency to get herself into trouble.  Clark figured this was the reason his brain seemed a little fixated on her: she, more than anyone else, seemed to be in danger very often—the kind of danger he could probably save her from.
Clark mentally winced at his own mental phrasing. "Save her from."  He hated thinking of himself as a savior.  Even though he had incredible powers, he liked to think that he was only doing what he could with his personal ability, just like every other person on the planet.
Clark now wondered how long he'd been sitting there thinking without saying anything to Diana.  He could never tell; he was pretty sure his brain ran a little faster than humans' brains did.  He guessed he'd been there for about three seconds.

Suddenly, he heard something—something terrible; something painful.  It cut through the city night like a knife, digging what felt like a hole in Clark's heart.  Clark almost turned back to Diana to ask if she'd heard it, too, but he stopped when he realized that he was the only one who could hear it.
A half-mile away, alone in her parents' apartment, Lois was crying.

Clark forced himself to remember what Diana had said a few seconds ago: "Well, you kinda have to agree, Clark.  Most men are chauvinistic and self-centered."
He turned to her, a determinedly serious look in his eyes.  "No, they're not.  Not the way you think.  The sooner you realize that, the better.  I'm sorry; I have to go."
And with that, he lifted off the floor, floating up into the night, leaving Diana speechless.

The Amazons

This is the legend of the Amazons.


Three millennia ago, North of the Mediterranean Sea, there existed a nation of warriors.  Both men and women, they fought side-by-side as equals on the battlefield.  There existed no greater army in the world than theirs; no stronger warriors than theirs.  They understood the true nature of combat: the reality of bloodshed, bravery, and death.  Every man and woman would give his or her life to protect his brothers and sisters; there were no cowards among them.  The name of this nation is long lost to history, but its fall is legendary.

An enemy nation, using deceit, trickery, and unnatural power, completely conquered the warrior nation.  They slaughtered all men and children, leaving only the women alive.  Those women were enslaved, tortured, and raped.  For two long years, the wives, mothers, and daughters of a once-great nation were subjugated by evil men.  Finally, led by their queen, the women planned a resistance against their captors.  The queen knew that without aid from the gods, their plan would fail.  Every day, she prayed to the goddesses—Hestia, Aphrodite, Demeter, Athena and Artemis—for the strength and fortune to defeat the men that held her people captive.  And, on the day the battle was to begin, her prayers were answered.  The gods of Olympus saw this great injustice, and granted each woman the strength of a dozen men.
The queen was given special gifts, crafted by Olympus' royal craftsman, the god Hephaestus himself:
An indestructible golden lasso, laced with undeniable magic that caused anyone in its grasp to speak only the truth.
A red corset, stronger than any steel armor, topped with an eagle-shaped golden chestplate.
Twin silver bracelets, forged from the shield of Zeus, able to shatter the shaft of an oncoming arrow or stop a mighty bolt of lightning in its path.
A golden tiara, unable to be bent or broken by any man.

The women took the name "Amazons"—meaning, literally, "warrior women."  Retaking their stolen armor and weapons, they rallied against the men who had dishonored them.

The battle was fierce and bloody; it lasted for three days without end.  The evil army summoned all manner of supernatural beasts to aid in their fight, but to no avail: the Amazons were unstoppable in their rage.
In the end, no man was left alive; only the Amazons stood, sheathed in blood but still alive.

As a final recompense, the gods gave the Amazons a sanctuary from the chaotic world of man: the island of Themyscira, shrouded from the outside world.  No human eye nor technological wonder could detect the secret haven, hidden safely in the Aegean Sea.
The Amazons, left to themselves in their new refuge, did not let their warrior spirit become soft.  They continued training in the ways of war, never letting their resolve weaken.  They forgot the good men of their homeland, but did not forget the crimes of the wicked men who enslaved them.  Soon, the Amazons fell into a singular belief: that the patriarch-dominated world of mankind was inherently corrupt, and that only one's sisters could truly be trusted.  They became closed-minded and mistrustful, never venturing beyond their shores or allowing others to discover Themyscira.

Although the Amazons were not invulnerable, they were immortal: they would never die of old age. The same women who fought back against the army of evil never died.  They live on, secluded on their Paradise Island, even to this day.

Dinner

Clark actually felt nervous.
Although Hippolta's eyes were currently set on her dinner plate, Clark could somehow still feel her judging stare.

It had started as soon as Clark had walked in the door.
Diana greeted him excitedly, her smile beaming.  Over her shoulder, however, Clark could see Diana's mother giving him a completely unemotional, cold stare.
"Clark, this is my mother," Diana said politely, taking him by the hand and walking him over.  Clark, awkwardly being pulled along, did his best to keep his composure.  "It's nice to meet you, Miss Prince."

Hippolyta nodded with a stiff smile.  "It is... nice to meet you, Clark."
Diana, surprised at the coldness of her mother's greeting, slowly turned her head and gave Hippolyta a "what was that?" look.
The rest of the night went downhill from there.

Back in Smallville, Clark had been over to a dozen different families' homes for dinner.  In a small town like that, it was the kind of thing that happened all the time.  But Clark had never felt so uncomfortable at any of those dinners as he did here.
Without even making eye contact, Hippolyta managed to convey the message that she was not particularly pleased with Clark, despite the fact that she didn't know him.  Perhaps it was the lack of eye contact—or any other type of politeness—that was so off-putting.  Hippolyta just stared at her plate, slowly working her way through her meal, not saying a word unless spoken to.

Eventually, Clark was tired of waiting.  "I'm sorry, ma'am, have I done something wrong?"
Hippolyta slowly raised her head and looked Clark in the eye.  For a split-second, Clark thought he caught a glimpse of a fiery hatred—as though her eyes were screaming "YES, YOU HAVE. BURN IN HELL."  She quickly regained control of herself, however, and shook off her initial reaction.  She did her best to actually give him a genuine smile. "No, Clark, you haven't done anything.  I must apologize; we haven't had a guest to our home since we moved to Metropolis."
Clark smiled back at her. "Well, as far as I can tell, you don't have anything to worry about.  The Metroplans don't bite.  Most of them."
Diana smiled slightly at Clark's joke.  Hippolyta's smile faded, as though she were suddenly reminded of a grim memory.  "I apologize, but I must retire for the night," she said, slowly standing up and walking out of the dining room.
Diana was aghast.  She quickly stood up and chased after her mother, following her down the short hall into the next bedroom.
Clark awkwardly sat at the table alone, twirling pasta around his fork.  He tried to block it out, but even someone without super powers could hear the shouting coming from across the house.  Eventually, Diana stormed back out of the room, stomping her feet as she paced back and forth across the apartment, muttering her frustration.
"...HOW could she be so simple-minded?!?..."
"...what gives HER the right to..."
"...as if ALL men are like the one that..."

Diana walked out onto the apartment's balcony, leaning on the railing as she tried to let her frustration flow out into the cool night air.
Clark followed her.  "So... what happened?" he asked.
Diana sighed heavily and slumped her head into her hands. "...I'm sorry, Clark.  My mother is a bit sexist."
Clark was slightly surprised.  "You mean she didn't like me because I'm a man?"
Diana smirked a little at Clark referring to himself—a sixteen-year-old boy—as a "man", but she couldn't really argue with it.  "Yeah, basically."  Diana turned toward him.  "Clark, the Amazons have a long, bloody history with men.  There's a reason we only allow women on our island."
Clark's eyes narrowed.  "Tell me."

Amazonian Mirror

Hippolyta stood in front of her mirror, waiting for contact.
Half a world away, she was known as the Queen of the Amazons.  Here, she was little more than Helen Prince, mother of Diana.  She and her daughter had lived in the United States for the past two years, hiding their true identities from the world.

They had initially moved to Coast City, in California—the beaches reminded them of home—but they soon decided to move to Metropolis, centered at the heart of the country.

The mirror in front of her suddenly rippled, as though it were made of water.  Slowly, as the ripples smoothed out again, the image of a young woman appeared in the glass.  She was medium height, with blonde-red hair, and wore light clothes of white linen.

"Alexa," Hippolyta said with a smile.
"My queen," Alexa said, bowing.  Her voice was gentle and youthful.  She was one of the youngest Amazons, and did not possess the war-hardened cynicism of her older sisters.
"What news from home?"
"Your people miss you, my queen.  But aside from that, we are doing quite well."
"I am glad to hear it."
Alexa smiled once more, but this time with a tinge of... something.  Something Hippolyta didn't quite recognize.
"What troubles you?" Hippolyta asked.
"My queen, I... the oracle..." Alexa was struggling to find the right words.  Hippolyta was beginning to worry.  "What of the oracles?" she asked.
"The oracles report that... that Circe has left her prison."
Hippolyta's eyes went wide with shock.  "What?!? How?! She was imprisoned in the Pit of Eternal Torment!  I sent her there myself!"
"Yes, my queen, but her crimes were against only you.  The gods have granted her parole, provided that she... well, leaves you alone."
Hippolyta thought in silence for a moment.  "...Does this arrangement include all of the Amazons as well?"
Alexa slowly shook her head. "No."
Hippolyta clenched her fists and shut her eyes in anger.
Alexa tried to reassure her.  "My queen, worry not for us.  We are not entirely defenseless here, after all."
Hippolyta gave Alexa a slight smile. "No, I suppose not."
Another thought sprang to her mind, however, and that smile quickly faded.
"What about my daughter?"
Alexa's smile faded as well. "No. She is not protected."  Before Hippolyta could react, Alexa spoke up again. "However, if I may, your highness... you and Diana are perfectly hidden in man's world.  No one outside of this island knows where you are.  Since you are now immune to her magic, any spell Circe might use to find you will fail.  And I doubt she even knows that Diana exists, since your daughter was not yet born when Circe was imprisoned."
Hippolyta smiled at Alexa.  The young Amazon always had her head in a book, and was far wiser than her age would have granted her.
"Let us hope you are right," Hippolyta said calmly.  "But now I must go.  My daughter is bringing a boy home for dinner."
Alexa's confused expression was the last thing Hippolyta saw in the mirror before shutting it off.

Lex's Choice

Lex was becoming more and more uneasy each time he entered his father's office.  He used to find it exciting: the clever business deals, the hostile takeovers, the corporate espionage... it was thrilling.
Now, however, it was simply frightening.  Blackmail, theft, threats, and murder.
It had always been this way, of course.  But Lionel had only recently begun to allow his son to know of it.
Lex had always heard whispers of rumors about Luthorcorp's secretly evil reputation, but he'd always assumed that those rumors were merely exaggerated or falsified information.  After all, what large corporation wasn't suspected of being a stronghold of pure evil?

"Then we have a deal?"
"Yes, Mr. Luthor."
"Very well.  I'll expect your men at the docks at seven thirty, and no later."
The other man nodded.

Lex walked in the door at the back of the office in just enough time to see a short, middle-aged man stand up from Lionel's desk and begin to walk away.  Lex managed to catch a good glimpse of him: he was foreign—as his thick accent made clear—with a heavily wrinkled face and deep shadowed eyes.

Lex waited until the man left before speaking to his father.  "Dad, was that... Vilmos Egans?"
Surprised, Lionel smiled at his son.  "Yes, yes that was.  I didn't know you were so... politically aware."
Lex wasn't flattered.  "I'm in a world politics class in school.  It's not hard to recognize him of all people.  He's the Regent of Kaznia!"
Seeing his Lex's reaction, Lionel became a bit more serious.  "What's your point, son?"
"The U.S. and Kaznia have a trade embargo right now.  We're not supposed to be making deals with them.  So what's going on here?"
Lionel's eyes narrowed.  "Are you sure you want to know, son?"
Lex rolled his eyes and turned around to walk away. "I don't know if I do..."
Lionel got up and walked over to his son.  Gently grabbing him by the arm, he turned him around and looked deeply into his eyes.  "Son, listen to me.  Laws are made by those in power.  The rest of the world may not know it, but we are those people.  We may not have been elected to any office, but we control this city.  Its citizens can either follow our lead or get in our way.  For their sake, I hope they choose to follow."

Lionel's voice deepened just a little, the way it always did when he was about to use some kind of powerful metaphor.
"You can either choose to be a servant or a master in this world; it's your choice."

Lex frowned at his father.  He was confused.  He knew, somewhere, that what his father was saying was wrong.  But he also recognized an element of truth.

Lionel wasn't done.  "Life, death, it doesn't matter.  No one's life should matter to you but your own and those of the ones you love.  Everyone lives and everyone dies; no one can change that.  The one thing we can control in this world is our legacy; what mark we leave during our short time here."
Lionel gave Lex a genuinely caring look.  Despite his twisted beliefs, he really did care about his son's future.
"Son, you need to decide—right now—what you will become.  Will you become a 'humanitarian', working at a homeless shelter, spending your life treating the rotten wounds of humanity?  Or will you become a conqueror; a leader?  What will history say of your exploits?  What is the true destiny of Lex Luthor?"

Lex's eyes brightened a little.  His destiny. it sounded so... powerful.
Power wasn't something he was used to.  Even though his father was one of the four richest men in the world, Lex didn't really have much in the way of responsibilities.  Everything was always handled for him; he didn't have much say in anything that really mattered.  But to have the ability to change his own destiny—to shape his own life into whatever he wanted—that was something he didn't realize he craved so deeply.

"You can help me, you know," Lionel said.  "I was a boy of a mere fifteen years old living on the streets when I began to build the beginnings of Luthorcorp; you have far more resources at your disposal.  So, will you follow in my footsteps?"

Lex took a moment to think about what his father was saying.  He was, essentially, being handed all the power in the world.
He smiled.
"Okay, dad."

Buddy Talk

Bruce heard the elevator doorbell ding.  Slightly surprised, he moved to open the door.
Clark was standing on the other side.  "Um... hey," he said.
"...Hey," Bruce replied.  "What are you doing here?"

Clark paused for a moment.  "...Diana asked me to the Winter Formal."
Bruce nodded upwards in understanding.  "Ah. Come on in, then."

Bruce walked over to the fridge.  "Want something to drink?"
"Sure; thanks."
Bruce leaned into the fridge and grabbed a soda can, tossing it to Clark before grabbing one for himself.

Clark looked down at the can.  "Root Beer.  My favorite.  How'd you—"
"You're a farmboy from Kansas.  It was either that or Dr. Pepper, and I figured you had better taste than that."

Clark grinned a little.
"So, did you say yes?" Bruce asked, taking a seat at the bar next to Clark.
"Well, yeah," Clark said. "I mean, I didn't have any reason not to go, and it's not like I'd be going with anyone else."
"Mmm," Bruce hummed, sipping his drink.  "So do you like her?"
Clark wasn't sure how to respond.  "Uh... well, I mean... I don't know."
Bruce raised an eyebrow at him.
"I think she's great and all," Clark began, "but I'm not sure that I want to be dating her."
Bruce knew what he meant. "You think of her as a friend, and you're not sure you want to be changing that."
"Yeah."

Bruce paused for a moment.  "You know she likes you, right?"
Clark winced.  "I was worried about that.  Are you sure?"
"Mmhmm.  She looks at you differently."
Clark wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but he asked the question anyway. "What do you mean 'differently'?"
"She looks at everyone pretty much the same way.  Like they're nothing special.  She cares about people, a lot more than she lets on, but she doesn't show it.  Except with you."
"Why would she do that?"
Bruce looked at Clark like he should know the answer already. "You two are maybe the only people on Earth who can fly and punch through solid steel.  And besides, you're probably the only guy in the universe who can actually live up to her insane moral code."
Clark was confused.  "...insane moral code?"
Bruce raised an eyebrow again.  "You haven't noticed?"
Clark shrugged.
Bruce looked out the window across the city as he gathered his thoughts.  "She and I talk sometimes while we train.  I've gotten to know her a little.  Back on her island, the women are indoctrinated with this belief that the outside world—'Man's World'—is corrupt.  If I understand correctly, she's supposed to eventually become the 'Ambassador of Truth', who is supposed to fix the world's morality problem."
Clark frowned at this. "She's supposed to WHAT?"
"Yeah. Exactly," Bruce said dryly. "She's supposed to 'act as an example', to show mankind the error of its ways.  Like a high-and-mighty priestess."
Clark sighed.  This certainly all made sense to him now.  Diana always did seem a little detached... and maybe a little judgmental.  But on the other hand, Clark wasn't the type to let himself assume the worst of anyone.
"Are you sure it's not just that she's... I don't know... going through a weird 'phase' or something?  Maybe she's just had bad experiences with guys before?"
Bruce cocked an eyebrow for a third time.  It was starting to annoy Clark.  "What do you mean?" Bruce asked.
"Well, we know she dated Hal for a while, and that didn't end well."
"Hal?"
"Oh, that's right; you didn't meet him.  Yeah, Hal Jordan. He's an ex-boyfriend of Diana's from Coast City.  He takes a couple of classes at Metropolis High, but does the rest at the Wayne-Ferris Academy.  Diana ran into him in the hallway at school when he first showed up, and... well, it wasn't pretty."
Bruce was surprised. "Hal Jordan is an ex-boyfriend of Diana's?"
"Yeah; you know him?"
"I've been reading up on the Academy and the projects we've got going on there.  Hal Jordan is one of the top candidates to begin training for the new prototype aircraft."
"Really?  Wow; that's cool."

Bruce was slightly curious at the fact that Clark—who had the power to fly—thought planes were cool.  But he kept on-track with the conversation.  "If she had a bad break-up with Hal, then that might've only added to whatever nonsense she learned from the other Amazons."
"So... you really think she's an Amazon?  From a paradise island?"
"I'm not sure exactly what she is, but what she says is probably true, in a vague sense at least.  There's no proof that her 'people' are the true Amazons of myth, but they probably do exist."
Clark nodded in acknowledgment, then frowned.  "What did you mean about me being 'the only guy who can live up to her moral code'?"
Bruce paused to think before speaking. "You were raised on a farm, correct?"
"Yeah."
"In Kansas."
"Yeah."
"Your family goes to church?"
"Yeah, my family's gone to the same church for three generations."
"And your parents taught you 'right from wrong,' and all that?"
Clark chuckled a little. "Yeah, definitely.  I got a lot of lectures.  Still do, sometimes."
"Right.  Basically, you're the poster-boy for the American way.  You've got that look in your eye, like you always know the right thing to do."
Clark frowned again. "But I don't always know the right thing to do."
"But you figure it out eventually, and you always do the right thing, if you can."
"Well... I mean... if I can, then I try."
"Exactly.  You're one of very few teenagers in the world that actually cares about doing the right thing, regardless of what you get out of it."
"Well, I don't think that's true..."
"It is."
Clark became a bit more serious. "No, that's not the case.  Just because we hear about all the bad things people have done doesn't mean that there aren't still plenty of good people out there willing to do the right thing."
Bruce halfway-smiled and shook his head. "That's exactly what I'm talking about.  You believe the best in people, even when it's not true."
"And you believe the worst in people."
"Do you honestly believe that the average person in this world cares about anyone but themselves and the people closest to them?"
Clark's eyes were firmly set.  "Yes. I do."
Bruce let it go at that.
Clark didn't.  "Bruce?  What do you really believe in?"
Bruce almost chuckled.  "You're the second person to ask me that."
"Really," Clark said curiously.  "Who was the first?"
"Diana."