Annoyances

[tanarill]

Such as when, for example, your Intarwebz spontaneously stop working? Those are annoying.

And I missed two days. Waah. Not like anything occurred during those two days except I had some bad yogurt and was subsequently very Sick. Not really very fun at all . . .

Anyway. There are thoughts percolating in my brain, but I feel like kicking the bunnies into action. So. Further prompting: Give me a character/pairing and a verb. Go!

And a big happy welcome for all of you here from worlds_finest.

Comments

[tanarill.livejournal.com]

Bruce didn't wash the suit. It wasn't exactly the most washable of materials anyway, with its high-tensile polymers, which tended to degrade when exposed to sunlight or water, and steel-reinforced molded plates. Instead, he wore layers of undersuit padding, which also helped cushion his altogether-too-numerous falls. He wore the suit, anyway, until it wore out or he came up with a better design, whichever came first.

Clark didn't wash the uniform. He gave it to the Fortress, and from there he forgot about it. There would be another uniform ready when he needed it, which was generally immediately after he dumped the first one. The design didn't change much, though; it didn't have to. As long as the uniform could take whatever punishment he put it through, he didn't much care.

At some point, Bruce had figured this out, and asked for a Superman uniform.

"Why?" asked Clark with a grin. "Do you want to play dress up?"

Bruce hadn't been thinking about that. Now he was.

But, despite the fact that his heartrate had just shot up, he said with every semblance of calm, "I want to do some analysis on it. Find out what it's made of."

" . . . cloth?" suggested Clark.

"Yes, but cloth that doesn't get brittle at three degrees Kelvin, does not spontaneouly combust at several thousand degrees Kelvin, doesn't show bullets bouncing off of it, sheds water as easily as it sheds anything else they throw at you, and never even wrinkles." Bruce had his heartrate back down. "Think of what I could do with a suit made out of something like that."

Clark thought in predictably straight lines. "Nearly die less often," he said.

Which was why, several weeks later, Batman was trying out this new version of the suit. It was still heavier and more layered than Superman's, but it was made out of essentially the same material, backed up by steel but still lighter and more flexible. He kept taking notes on the ways he was overcompensating for weight and armor that wasn't there, thinking of ways to improve it-this was the first iteration, after all-and adjusting to the fact that this cape wasn't just flame-retardant. And, as far as Batman ever did, had fun with it.

"Well?" asked Clark, when he returned to the cave several hours later, after stopping armed robberies and assisting with a building that probably had not caught on fire by accident.

"I thought of a few modifications," said Bruce, which probably meant he'd redesigned it from the ground up based on what he'd learned. "And-a question?"

"Hm?"

"How do you wash this thing?"