Work Text:
“Hello! Welcome to the Central City Marriott. My name is Lora. How can I help you today?”
“Hi, I’m checking in for Bruce Wayne.”
“Great!” Lora looks at her computer and frowns. “I’m sorry, I can see you booking but unfortunately, we are over-booked for the night.”
What do you mean? Bruce thought, I booked this week ago.
“You’re overbooked?! Where are we supposed to–”
“Don’t worry,” The receptionist interrupted. “You have a couple of options. We could refund your stay for you.” She gauges Bruce's reaction before continuing, “If that doesn't work for you, we could call the other hotels in the area, and we could send you to one of them. If they don't have any availability either, we could see about converting one of our conference rooms into a bedroom for the night.”
Clark turns to Bruce, “What do you think?”
Sigh “Let's see if the other hotels have rooms available, and if not, we’ll take the converted room.”
“Perfect!” Lora seems to relax a bit, “I’ll call around to ask about availability and tell the staff to prepare the conference room in case they are all booked.”
“Wonderful,” Bruce looked at his watch, “how long will it take to ask the other hotels?”
“It should only take 20 minutes at the most, and I'll call the number on file when I have a confirmation for you.”
“Alright, thank you so much.”
“See you soon.”
Hey Jack!” Lora calls out to another worker, “Can you convert the Conference room into a bedroom?”
“The conference room? Uuuhh, Suuure?” Jack replies, muttering "What's the capacity of a conference room?” to himself as the two walked away from the desk.
“Hey Bruce, how about we have a drink while we wait?"
“After that plane ride, I think we deserve one.”
Bruce and Clark walk up to the bar, and the bartender greets them. “Hey folks, what can I get you two today?”
Bruce responds first, “I’ll take a Whiskey on the rocks.” Bruce turns to Clark.
“Uh, can I get a Shirley Temple?”
“Coming right up.”
Bruce and Clark sit in the seats and look around the bar. There aren't too many people here at this time of night.
The bartender comes back with the drinks, and Clark eagerly drinks his down while Bruce sips on his whisky.
“Hey Bruce, you mentioned on the Plane ride that you’ve held events here. Do you think you've been in the conference room before?
“Maybe? Probably not, though. The most recent event was a Charity dinner, but the room we had been in could hold 300 people easily.”
“That's a lot of people, think about the amount of beds someone could fit in that room!”
“What? Why would–” Ring, ring!
Bruce picks up his phone.
“Hello, Mr Wayne?”
“Yes?”
“Hi, this is Lora from the Marriott. Unfortunately, all of the other hotels are also fully booked, but If you would like to come to the front desk, the conference room has been converted for you.”
“Awesome, we will be right there. See you in a second.”
“So, is there a room for us?” Clark pipes up as Bruce turns to walk to the reception area.
“We're going to be in the conference room.”
“Oh, that's a shame, but hey, at least we have a place to sleep.”
“Yeah.”
Lora is sitting at the desk when they return and flashes them a smile as she reaches for the keys.
“Hello, Mr Wayne! Your room is all set up, you are in the gold room down the hall and here are 2 breakfast vouchers for the trouble.”
“Thank you, Lora. Have a great night.”
“You too!”
The two walk down a long hallway, and it feels like an eternity before coming to a stop in front of a large door; the plaque next to it reads “Gold Room”
Bruce sets down his bag and opens the door.
“What the fuck?”
This room is the sprawling room he had held for the Martha Wayne Foundation the year prior.
And from wall to wall of this room, there have to be at least 100 beds.
“Is there a..oh!” Clark looks at the room, his head tilting in confusion.
“Do you think there was some sort of mistake? Why are there so many beds?” Clark said as he rolled his bag into the room.
“I… don't know. ” Bruce continues to take in the sea of Linen. While taking a closer look, he realised that there was a microwave, a fridge, a TV, and a couch. “Other than all the beds, I think everything is in order.”
Plop
Bruse sits down on the bed closest to him.
“Bruce, you're not curious as to what the mix-up is?”
“Nope.”
“Liar.” Clark walked over to a few beds and began to push on them/
“Clark, what are you doing?” Bruce said as the beds came together with a small clank.
“I’m making the most of my time in a hotel with an infinite amount of beds in it.”
“What?”
“Unlike you, I have to sleep in a tiny bed in my apartment. I’m making a mega bed.” Clark walks to a different bed and begins pushing. “Shazam has been talking about ‘never losing your childhood whimsy, and I think he has a point.”
“So you're going to make the bed big?” Bruce said, deadpan.
“Well, if you’re going to be so negative about it, I'm going to make a wall out of the sheets to keep you out.” Clark sticks out his tongue at Bruce, who chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“Let me help you; that way, I don't have to see how childish you are.” Bruce gets up to help Clark.
“What should we use to hold up the sheets?” Clark says.
Bruce looks around the room, and his eyes fixate on the stage. “I have an idea, but I’ll probably have to pay a fee for moving equipment.”
“Oh no, an additional fee,” Clark says, throwing his hand to his forehead in faux distress. “You are never going to financially recover!”
Bruce laughs at the thought of financial strain. “I guess I could put up with it for you.”
The two of them use the stage light poles to hold up the sheets. Bruce holds them steady while Clark flies up to secure the ‘walls’.
Clark rests on the bed while Bruce admires the fortress. “So, Clark, got room for one more in there? Or are we going to have to make another castle?”
“I think I might be able to make room for you…” Clark says, “If you go and get us popcorn from the convenience store and move the TV in front of the bed.”
“Oh no, what will I do if I can't sleep in the four out of god knows how many beds are in here?”
“Please! The beds are warm, and I don't want to leave them.” Clark puts on a convincing pair of pouty eyes at Bruce.
“...fine”
Bruce takes a journey to the convenience store and when he comes back Clark has already moved. He is now sitting Criss-cross-apple-sause on the bed, scrolling through movies.
“Anything good we can watch?” Bruce asks “As long as it's– opps” Bruce accidentally tears the popcorn plastic open, and the bag falls to the ground.
Bruce looks at it confused before picking it up and shoving it in the microwave.
Clark laughs. “Yeah, there's some good stuff on here. I was thinking we could watch K-pop Demon Hunters”
Bruce thinks for a second, “I think Dick mentioned something about watching that movie.”
“What did he say about it? I haven't seen it,” Clark asks.
“He said he loved it, but he loves most movies he watches.”
“Fair, do you want to watch it?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Sure, set it up while I get the popcorn together, please.”
“Sure thing.”