NIGHT AND DAY
"I'm coming with you."
"No!"
"I'm coming with-"
"No-"
"Good Hera, Bruce! If I have to hang on to your Batmobile to get it into your Bathead that I'm coming with you, I will do it."
He wanted to go home and deal with his mess on his own. Diana didn't seem like she was going to budge, though. His body was aching all over...
"Fine," Bruce gritted his teeth. And not just due to the pain.
The ride home was uneventful. Bruce said little to nothing. He wore a scowl as well as he wore his bruises. That at least part of his sour mood was due to her insistence on coming along was not lost on her. But then again, it was deemed necessary. Bruce was battered enough for the day, the other Five of the Justice League were occupied, and she couldn't just leave him alone. Besides, enemies could be lurking anywhere.
Bruce's foes weren't just any of those idealistic, super powered ones that Superman fought, or the simple war-mongers that she often faced. Gotham was dark. Its criminals were darker. Petty thieves. And mad men with a warped sense of the world. Plenty who were waiting for a chance to break the Bat.
Of the seven founding members of the Justice League, he alone had no super powers. Except those which he developed on his own through sheer effort. And somehow, in a way, that only made him so much more extraordinary.
Diana understood what that meant. The Amazons were born to be warriors, but even they had to be trained. They worked at it every day. Diana, who was the Princess of Themyscira, was expected to be better. And under the merciless, rigorous training of her aunt, she had emerged the best of them all.
A super power can only get you so far. It takes effort to go higher.
In Bruce, she had identified a fellow warrior.
He was one mortal man fighting against several, mortal and otherwise, on a regular basis. And today had not been particularly different or kind.
The Batmobile slid smoothly through the hidden entrance of the cave. Not so hidden now that it was passing through. It closed in after them. After a little bit of manoeuvring, it gently came to a halt.
Wordlessly, Diana pressed the button that opened up the doors, letting them out. She tried to help him across to the room, but he grunted and turned away.
She suspected old age would never kill Bruce. He would simply outlive everyone with his stubbornness. Diana imagined living with him would require quite a bit of patience.
Poor Alfred.
"You need rest, Bruce. And your wounds need to be dressed."
"I'm fine."
"You don't need to worry. Tim is a good kid."
"Who said I was worried?"
Diana sighed.
"Miss Prince is quite right, sir. You can worry tomorrow."
Alfred had arrived, balancing a tray on one hand. Bruce glared at Alfred with what he hoped was a death stare, but Alfred just continued to look back at him with his usual British indifference.
"Shall I bring some tea?" Alfred continued, unperturbed.
"Thanks, Alfred, but I don't think I'm going to need it."
"Just for the lady, then." Alfred said.
"Thank you, Alfred. Tea would be nice."
"So Tim isn't home?" Bruce asked.
"No, sir. And I'm afraid Master Drake hasn't left a message, either," said Alfred.
Stupid kid, Bruce thought. He never had this sort of trouble with Dick or Barbara.
Alfred set the tray down on the table, and left.
Big computer screens took up space in one part of the cave. Further, there were many shelves and glass cases lined up against the walls.
Diana had been to the cave many times now, but it never failed to fascinate her. Everything in the cave seemed to tell a story about Bruce's life. She brushed her hand against the case that held a very old costume of his.
His childhood tragedy most definitely helped shape the man to a large extent. He had told her once about it, very briefly, in his usual brooding way. About the horror of losing his parents, and the feeling of helplessness as he stood watching...
He trained so he never became helpless again.
She came to the case that contained the suits of the Bat family. Current and former. Dick. Cassandra. Damien? She will have to make an effort to remember all their names. She knew Dick well, at least.
It was almost funny how a single guy had so many kids. But then, perhaps, that just meant Bruce was a better father than a lover.
There was a side of him that people rarely knew about. Deep down, Bruce cared. Maybe, a little too much.
She could very well imagine the grief and pain Bruce had been through when one of the Robins, Jason, was killed. After all, she, too, had buried many a kin.
Many a man, too... Even Steve...
Steve, who was good and kind, and who taught her that human life was precious and momentary... Whose eyes held the promise of day, of sunshine, and of hope...And his kiss...
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Diana was acutely aware of Bruce watching her. He would have to suffer in silence at the intrusion, she thought, and smiled to herself.
Bruce reached for the tray, and extricated a scissor. He looked up and saw Diana go through the Robin suits as usual. He found he didn't particularly mind. Besides, at some point or the other, every one of the Founders had been there. He gritted his teeth through the pain. Who do I have to kill for some privacy? The scissor fell out of his hands with a resounding crash. Bruce cursed.
Diana whipped around. Before he could say anything, she had come over to his side. She easily lifted the heavy table with one hand and set it aside. And then she picked up the scissor and set it back on the tray.
Sometimes, Bruce forgot that if she wanted to, she could crush him like a bug. She possessed, after all, the Amazonian strength. Strong women fascinated him. And he had met his share of them, various types of strong.
There was Selina, who had a strong moral compass. She was a good woman and did not deserve having to deal with his mess. He loved her, but with Selina, he doubted it was ever enough. She deserved more than just a wreck...
And Talia. He had loved her once. She was fierce and dark and dangerous. A true match to the danger and dark that dwelt within himself. But with it came pain, hurt and heart break. He couldn't love her without turning over to the dark side himself.
And then there was Diana.
She reached over and squeezed his hand. He didn't resist. And he felt himself relax. For some reason, he never minded her company. Well, of course, he could name at least one reason. He would be blind not to.
"Let me help you," she said, softly.
Sometimes, Bruce forgot how gentle she could be. Or their kisses. He smiled inwardly at that. Yet another reason.
As she reached for his mask, he caught her hand. "Careful, now, Princess. Often times when the mask comes off, there is only the beast underneath," he said, smirking.
Diana raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't worry too much. After all, we have unmasked each other plenty of times before."
Bruce enjoyed their many flirtations over the years. They were two very attractive people who had worked alongside each other for quite some time. But it was also something more. They had a connection. It had only grown stronger over the years.
They were both warriors. He worked in the dark, away from scrutiny. She had gotten herself much too embroiled in Men's affairs to ever truly return home. She was light. And they were both alone.
Diana had helped him get the suit off, and now tended to him with a medical precision as he sat on the surgical bed.
He remembered one of his first ever interactions with the Amazon. She had talked about herself, her people and, then, her birth. He had found it interesting but impossible.
I was brought to life by Zeus, she had said. He knew it was a lie. The Greek gods were seldom interested in bringing clay to life. Oh no, they preferred other merry activities.
Unless, men washed up ashore on Themyscira quite often. He briefly wondered if Diana still believed in those legends. She was a warrior, after all, not some naive teenager who dreamt of knights in shining armour. He wondered if Amazons even had a teenage.
Or perhaps, Diana did like the idea of being self made, quite literally. He never did care much for Greek mythology anyway. Well, except for the part about Amazons, that is.
The Amazons were stronger than an average man, even him. But it was clear that Diana was the fiercest of them all, and that required extreme training. Not much different from his own, perhaps, except that he had never used a sword.
And Bruce knew, more than anyone else in the League, how to appreciate hard work. Diana was the best warrior in the League. And the best melee fighter he had ever seen.
Quite fascinating.
"You are pretty good at this," he remarked after some time, as Diana dressed a particularly nasty cut on his chest.
"War is not all I'm good at, you see."
"No..."
"Quite the contrary, actually. I was blessed by Aphrodite, too, you know," Diana said with a smile.
"Right." Goddess of love and beauty. Diana possessed both, and more. A moment passed. And then he thought of the mortal man who loved her.
"How's...err...Trevor?" A pause. And then-
"Dead. He's been dead for some time now."
He had met Trevor once. By then he was old, grey haired and walked with a slight limp. His eyes were sharp and discerning, though. And he probably was nice looking enough when he was young. He was the very first man Diana had set her eyes upon, and he must have left a good impression, since Diana decided to stay on in the Man's world.
The last he had heard, Trevor was in an old age home. He had married, and had kids and grand kids. He hadn't waited, then.
Bruce briefly wondered how Diana had dealt with love, loss and a whole host of problems that Amazons didn't normally have to live with. They did, after all, have a very long life span, and spent most of it confined in Themyscira. The Land of Only Women.
"Do you miss him?" Bruce asked.
Diana looked up at him. He thought he saw something like a shadow pass over her face. "Yes," she said. Another pause. She reminisced.
She didn't mind.
"I loved him, you know," Diana said. "But we weren't...it didn't work out." She smiled at a distant memory. "He never forgot me, though. 'My Guardian Angel', he used to call me."
"Guardian Angel. He probably thought you fell out of the sky."
"Actually, that's exactly what he thought," Diana said.
"I don't blame him."
She leaned over and cupped his face, trying to look for any signs of injury or, perhaps, brain damage. Satisfied, she stepped back.
"We don't have much luck with relationships, do we?"
"I guess not." She looked curiously at him. "Being thousands of years old doesn't help, I guess."
"We're married to our jobs," Bruce said. "We spend way more time together with the League than with any family or friend." Although, to be fair, Justice League was family, too. Even the occasionally annoying Wally.
Everyone else seemed to find him highly amusing, though. And there was no denying that it is Wally who was the heart of the League.
Maybe he just hated being amused. Got to work on that.
There was a pause. And then Diana replied. "No. That's not it," she said. "I see Clark and how happy he is with Lois. I think it's because we're afraid. Afraid to try. Afraid to trust, afraid to get hurt..."
"You have given it some thought, then."
"Haven't you? A billionaire playboy persona doesn't work much wonders, either, I imagine. Not even a handsome one."
Bruce grinned.
"Occupational hazard, Princess." As a part of keeping his night job a secret, he had to play up his daytime image - that of a callous, rich rake. Only problem was, most women were only interested in his money.
"There's a Batcave within us. We take shelter in it when the storm comes. Except, the storm just never leaves, does it?"
Over time, Diana had come to learn from the Man's world that flawed as they are, deep down, they craved for peace. And love - something mostly foreign to her until she first set foot in the Man's world. Mostly, because there were other ways to love.
And the fact that they were mortals, and limited, and brief, made it all the more beautiful.
"No. And you just had to use my cave as an analogy, didn't you?" Bruce asked. Diana laughed, the sound ricocheting through the cave. He couldn't help but smile.
Alfred was back with hot steaming tea. He helped with the remaining dressing of wounds, as Diana sipped from a cup.
"I see you have done a good job already, Miss Prince," said Alfred.
"Thank you, Alfred. The tea is terrific, too."
"My job, Miss." After a while, Alfred left again, perhaps to find something else to make his guest feel comfortable. That butler was always busying himself. He seemed to have intuitive knack of knowing what one needed.
The Good Butler.
Diana fetched some water. "Here," She said, handing it to Bruce.
He didn't particularly like being bossed around in his own house. "That's alright-"
"-Drink," She insisted. If he didn't like being ordered around the first time, he definitely wouldn't like it this time. But she was ready to force it down his throat.
Surprisingly, he did drink without any further complaint, ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He drank it slowly, locking his gaze with hers, as if to let her know he had complied.
He looked pretty darn good when he didn't look so grim all the time. Diana watched as he sighed and leaned back. And she watched as the pill she had mixed in started to take effect. She didn't want him running out for his nightly activities any time soon. He needed rest. There would be a hell to pay when he wakes up tomorrow. She would deal.
As Bruce drifted off to sleep, a calmness seemed to spread across his face. Eyes half closed, he turned to her.
"...watching over me...," he murmured. "My... guardian… angel...like that…" And that was the last thought he had before he dreamt of gardens, gargoyles, the Amazons and the sunset.
"You wouldn't know what you liked if it hit you in the face, Bruce."
Diana leaned over to run a hand through his hair, and plant a kiss on his cheek.
Perhaps there was hope after all. Tomorrow is, but another day. Bruce had her hand in his. She slowly extracted it from his grasp.
Or night. Whichever. Night's good, too.
Diana took one last sip of tea from her cup, and then, setting it aside, made herself comfortable on the cosy sofa.
Later, Alfred came in to check on them. He had brought some blankets along. He looked at the sleeping couple. He threw one over the figure in the sofa and the other over his foster son. He then gathered up the empty glasses and quietly withdrew.