Prompt: #11, Extrinsic
Word Count: About two hundred
Disclaimer: DC owns all characters involved.
Summary: Cause and effect. Story and history. It's never as simple as it seems, and that includes this fic.
There are no metahumans in this world. No comics, either. Clark Kent is just a reporter, and if you prick him, he bleeds and yelps.
He doesn't quite know why he's sitting so straight. Where his confidence comes from.
Bruce Wayne is a fop. Diana Prince is shy. They might meet at a museum opening, but the spare, industrial table in this lonely warehouse should make them all look out of place.
"Does any of you know why we are meeting here?," says Wayne. Asking pointed, pertinent questions shouldn't look natural in him.
Kent throws a recent Daily Planet on the table. "I think what matters most is what needs to be done." The certainty shouldn't be there.
"I don't like acting without sufficient intel."
Diana Prince puts her hand on the table. "We will act, and we will gather information from the reactions to our acts. Agreed?" She has never fought a battle in her life, yet she sees the rightness of her tactical counsel, its wisdom, as clearly as she sees the warriors in front of her.
They don't know why they have met, why they trust each other, why they will fight to change the world.
They have no possible reason to win.