"She's the best hope we have of protecting Gotham from them," he said solemnly. "She's got the authority, and she's the one they're sending here. We have to make sure she sees Gotham properly. She doesn't have to love it, but she does have to understand it. We can help her with that."
Bruce noted that both of them were using plural terms more and more frequently, and he wasn't completely sure how he felt about it. He wasn't used to so easily accepting partners, but this was different. He felt himself smiling a little, seeing on her face that she'd noticed, too. He had to admit - it felt good knowing she was on his side.
Of course, Kal was only one of Superman's names, and not that name he had been raised with, but Bruce had a policy of fiercely protecting the fact that Clark had been raised on earth, by human parents, on a small farm in Kansas. It would put his mother in danger, and Ma Kent had, from the moment they'd met, treated Bruce like a second son. It wasn't just Clark he protected - it was his family.
"Accessible," he supplied the word, his mouth quirking knowingly. "People treat him like a god; it's understandable. He flies, he's got invulnerability, super-strength, super-hearing, super-breath, super-vision, and if I went into all the specifics, we'd be here for hours." Everyone liked Superman, but few people really understood him. It was something Bruce could, on some level, relate to. The Mystique.
"When I first heard about him, when we first met, I didn't trust him. An alien preaching peace, who just happens to be the personification of our culture's standard of male perfection? Highly suspect." Bruce gave her a look. She knew him well enough to know how incredulous he was. "Then you get to know him, and he's just this... big blue boy scout, who love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and classic films." His smile faltered. "And neither of us will ever be able to live up to our own Mystique." Just one more reason they were friends.
Running a hand back through his own hair to wet it and brush it away from his face, Bruce then combed his fingers through her hair, taking his time enjoying the sensation. He chuckled. "That's only because you haven't met JARVIS. Tony based his A.I. on a butler he had as a child, Edwin Jarvis. JARVIS runs everything in the house - all of his houses, actually. What's remarkable is that JARVIS has a personality." Bruce reached for the shampoo, pouring a little in his hands and working it into her hair. "He has a few bots in his lab who have distinctive personalities, too, though they don't talk. It's quite fascinating. I've never seen anything like it."