Oh, I... [ He wracks his brains, as if expending a genuine amount of energy to think of anything he could possibly need from him. Then it hits him, and he lets out a soft 'oh' that's coupled with the raising of his index finger, as if telling Bruce to wait, wait right there!.

He rises from his seat, nearly stumbling on his way to the kitchen, but at least he manages to put the memory card into his pocket as he messes up his steps to keep it safe. He hadn't been lying; he'll definitely make that request of his happen.

When Clark reappears, he has a plate with three corn muffins on it, the plate small enough that around the muffins is about an inch and a half left of plate to keep them from falling off. The muffins are sweet, freshly baked; they definitely explain the pleasant smell that'd covered the whole of the apartment. Clark's covered the whole thing in cling wrap to protect the goods from the outside, because his intentions for them with regards to Bruce are: ] Take some. [ He's smiling as he says it, holding the plate out in two hands. ] I m-made too much. You'd be doing me a favour helping me finish them.

The corn was canned, though. Fair warning. [ Just like the one Bruce gave him before the stew, remember?

Clark Kent never forgets. ]