Author's Note:

Two nights ago, I watched Wonder Woman for the first time. Following that, I headed for Fanfiction and saw that this movie has yet to be oversaturated with stories of Diana and Steve's romance. Lucky for me. I think that we might be a little reluctant to explore their relationship for one big reason: Steve's death. So then I thought, fuck Steve's death. In my version, Steve's gonna live.

XO ForASecondThereWe'dWon

The grit of the tarmac scraping her back, Diana looked up, beyond Ares, to the plane Steve was flying. She watched as it angled more and more sharply up into the sky. Ares, glutted on self-satisfaction to see her subjugated before him, turned his head to follow Steve's path. He stared coldly back over his plated shoulder at Diana, a cruel grin twisting his mouth, and began to pull lightning from without and within until his armour was swarmed with a sparking silver ripple. Ares' body became rigid. He forgot Diana's power, focusing only on her pain, as he glared at the escaping aircraft and raised both electrified hands. Diana felt she was aglow with the scalding fire of a Themysciran forge; she felt the tick of Steve's watch deep in her being and she loathed Ares, but the matchless burn reinvigorating her muscles wasn't hate. It was love.

Diana launched herself out of the filth: the ground trodden by corrupt soldiers, the dirt under her hands that was the fallout of a toxic chemical ash, the barbaric shards of metal Ares had sent hurtling through the air at her again and again. She saw the bright light of Ares' fearsome pulse and she leapt, intercepting it with her body. Diana's crossed forearms took the energy and redistributed it through a burst more powerful than even the one that had knocked Antiope from her feet. She took the force of Ares' weapon from him by putting herself in its path, using a gift that had once leveled a warrior to eradicate a god. He shone, appearing truly Olympian, before the collapse of his abilities converted into combustion. Diana was thrown far, squeezing her eyes shut as the noise of her enemy's explosion beat against her head.

Her trajectory was not only outward, but upward. Diana was shoved, shot like a bullet from a gun, bracing her arms in front of her and momentarily unable to even unlock them from their overlap. She flew backwards through the rising smoke of the razed base until, suddenly, the cold clear air of winter raced across her skin. Diana looked up, shifting in the air, and saw how near she was to the German plane. Steve's plane. She thanked the gods for preparing for her such an enemy to conquer that their final blow would send her sailing so far. It was higher and more fearless than any jump she had ever made on her own. Diana's gauntlets rang briefly against the metal, then crunched a pair of craters next to the door. She screamed Steve's name, hanging on where she could, but the wind was whipping by, taking her words. Diana kicked the door, bending the steel like soft leather, and dove into the gap she had created.

No altitude could have prevented Steve from hearing her entrance and he spun to stare at her, his eyes as wide and beautiful as the waters of her homeland. The wind rushed in and blew back his fair hair. He scrambled up, touching her lower back with tenderness, though the plane was already starting to dip. Diana wanted to pull him straight out, until she glanced out the door and saw how much distance there was between their position and the ground. Where men had guns, she had her sword. Where they had boats and automobiles, she had a horse. There was nothing that she had that could compete with the height achieved by an aircraft and Diana wrapped her fingers around Steve's, unable to see his face although she was staring at it. His hand pulled away from hers and she felt lost.

In an instant, he was back, not just his hand, but his arms, encircling her, his chest, solidly against hers. Steve's grip was tight and his voice roared in her ear as he stepped closer to the opening. The wings wobbled and Diana pushed at him, trying to get him away from the edge. Steve shook his head, raising her hand and yanking it under the strap now across his chest. He yelled the word at her again, but she didn't know what a parachute was. Steve gave up struggling and kissed her, distracting Diana as her hair swung and snarled and her ears were made deaf by the unnatural groan of the plane. A second later, they were falling together and Diana grabbed onto him even tighter, not because she felt betrayed that he had flung them from the plane, but because she had to protect him, wind her body around his so that she could shield him from the impact.

The air had its claws in her bare legs and shoulders and yet, Steve radiated warmth. Diana peered through the wild strands of her hair to see his face. He was smiling. Well then, she thought she too could try not to look afraid. She smiled back and there was a great jerk that nearly caused her to slip through Steve's arms. They weren't plummeting now, only drifting, and there was the plane, an orange blast way up above. Closer was the stretch of cloth, sail-like, to which Steve's harness was tethered. Diana's smile beamed from her as she marvelled at this miracle. Steve's fingers were becoming cramped where they grabbed at her, so Diana draped her arms behind his neck, helping him to not need to hold her so tightly. He didn't relax his hands at all. Diana buried her face in his neck, letting her smile meet his skin as they floated to the ground like snow.

When the ground was just below them, Diana unwound herself from him and Steve let her, surely knowing by now that this drop would be well within her capabilities to handle. Her boots carved troughs into the earth and she stood a little shakily, unsettled by the thought that she had just fallen from the sky. Steve kept his feet as he landed with a run, until he stumbled just in front of her. Diana stepped into him, leaning her trembling body against his as he unfastened the buckles and shed his harness. The descent had sent them spiraling back towards the runway and Diana walked down it beside Steve in silence as the feeling came back to their legs and they fully realized that they were alive.

"Wait," he said, gripping her gauntlet and pulling her close. Diana instinctively flicked her eyes down at his hand, then up to his face. Another man would never have willingly made contact with her armour in this way. If Steve had seen how these curls of metal had channeled her power and destroyed Ares, perhaps even he would be hesitant.

"I missed this," he whispered, smoothing the long loose curls of her hair, overflowing his hands with her dark tresses. Diana's warm eyes met his, filled with confusion, though her smile was gentle and patient. "When we were in London, I tried to make you someone… someone you're not." His eyebrows pulled together.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I couldn't do it." She shook her head slowly. "I couldn't walk around in stiff, heavy clothes, skirts down to my boots, any more than I could pretend to be your secretary. I only hope that you weren't disappointed."

"Dis―?" Steve cut himself off, laughing. "Disappointed? If you were anything less than what you are, I wouldn't be standing here right now. The only thing I am is grateful. Thank you, Diana." His blue eyes were earnest.

"Thank you for what you did." The corners of her mouth rose into a smile; their last exchange of thank you's following the battle on the shore of Themyscira was on her mind. "I channeled everything I have, all that I am, into defeating Ares. Like you, I saw the wounded. I saw the hungry and the suffering, but all along I was focused on one. You, Steve," she laid a palm on his cheek, "would have given your life for thousands. You were thinking of everyone."

He shook his head steadily.

"You're wrong."

Diana frowned, raising her other hand to grip his shoulder. Surely, Steve―her comrade, her honorary Amazon, her partner―would not shun this recognition of his bravery. He had earned this, and far more.

"You can't be―"

He took her face in his hands abruptly.

"I was thinking of you."

Steve pressed his mouth to hers. His urgency tilted her head back, but he slid one hand around to cradle the back of her neck. Diana gasped into his mouth, in that moment truly awakening to the thought that the kiss in Veld could have been their last if she hadn't reached Steve in time today. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him, being what Zeus had first intended for the Amazons to be: not warriors, but women, guiding men to peace. Steve responded readily, digging firm fingers into Diana's hair and rocking his body unshyly against hers. The hangar was ablaze, but the last heat of Ares' hatred would now purify the ground on which he'd inspired good men to act with wickedness. It created a warm glow behind Diana's closed eyelids as Steve backed her into the side of one of the planes that would never leave the ground with another load of poison or explosives.

His hips alone seemed to guide her and they disappeared behind the broad metal wing, their nearest possible observers hundreds of miles down the airstrip, men who were still embracing each other in the unpolluted spirit of humanity. A part of Diana wanted to join them in their celebrations, just as drawn to the innocence of their convivial cheers as she had been to the sweet face of the first baby she'd seen in London. However, there were so many of them―dozens of Germans plus a Native American, a Frenchman, and a Scot―sharing the love of friendship and renewed hope that it felt right to her to stay with Steve and express another kind of love. Diana could have lifted the plane with her bare hands and sent it looping through the sky, away from the rising smoke of the wreckage, so joyful was she to be out in the world, a world at peace; instead, she deferred to Steve's strength, letting him grip the underside of her thighs and pull her feet away from the ground so that she was balanced on his hips, pinned to the fuselage. His mouth worked desperately at hers and she was unable to resist when the nudge of his jaw parted her lips. Steve's tongue caressed and tugged at hers and she felt herself giving in to him. Below, his hand slipped under her skirt to clench at her backside as he rolled his swollen length against her, recalling to Diana the rise and fall of their little boat on its journey from the island of the Amazons to the island of the Brits.

There was nothing to do but embrace this precious chance to give herself to him once again and Diana tightened her legs, fixing him against her. Steve groaned into her mouth and gripped the flesh of her thigh. His hands were freezing and though it didn't bother her―the fire ignited by her love for him had not been suffocated―she knew he would be making himself uncomfortable to continue under these conditions. She reached up and behind her, continuing to move with him through their kiss, and felt for the door's latch. Steve registered enough of her movement to close one hand around the bend of her elbow, running his palm downwards along the inside of her upper arm hungrily and bumping his erection sharply between her legs. Diana broke the kiss, gasping, and ground herself against him. Her eyes opened to see him grinning smugly at her and licking his lower lip before rubbing himself intimately against her again. Diana's body went a little limp as she let Steve move them together, like she had when they were dancing. She began to drop her hand, forgetting the latch, and her gauntlet scraped the plane.

"God!" Steve cringed at the sound, looking from her face up to her hand. "What are you doing?"

"Opening the door." Diana shrugged and tilted her head back. She spotted the latch and flipped it open so the door swung out towards them.

"Oh, you don't want to just crumple this one?" He gave her an impudent look, setting her on her feet so that they could both step clear of the door's arc. Diana tugged the zipper of his jacket down sharply and smoothed her hand down in its wake. She took a calculated step up to him so that the length of her body was just brushing the length of his.

"I can be a little rougher." She raised an eyebrow. "If you think that's best." Diana bent her knee, angling her thigh so that it gave the hard weight of his cock a firm press. Steve's eyes widened and he breathed in roughly through his nose.

"On second thought, an un-crumpled door will provide so much more privacy."

Diana smiled at him in satisfaction and moved away, springing into the plane. Steve heaved himself up after her, seemed to trip, and caught her around the waist, making her bump against the interior and sending her down onto her back in the aisle. The cargo hold of the plane was empty, awaiting a batch of poisonous gas that would never be made. Steve raised himself on his hands above her, grinning. Diana narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed accusingly.

"You did that on purpose."

He shifted and slammed the door shut with a bang.

"Or…" his eyes idly roamed the ceiling before returning to hers, "…I have really poor balance. We can't all be Amazons."

Diana dipped her chin and smiled at him sincerely.

"We would be lucky to have you, Steve Trevor."

"Yeah, but I couldn't do the skirt." He frowned. Diana shook her head at his ridiculousness.

"You are a hero nevertheless."

"I think… right now…" He lowered himself down onto his forearms and Diana brought her legs up slowly to cage his hips. "I'd just like to be a man."

"And what would a man do?" she asked softly, pushing up the hem of his shirt under his open jacket.

"Ah, well, I can see how you wouldn't know too much about that." He shrugged one shoulder, reaching beneath her to unclip her bodice. Steve's lips ran along her neck and she sighed into his hair. She decided she would let him have his joke, since it was creating such pleasurable anticipation.

"A man," he continued, "would help a lady." He tugged at the garment that was both comfortably shaped to her and as strong as the steel of the plane that held up, peeling it off and laying it aside.

"A man would be observant…" Steve's gaze went straight to her chest. "…and attentive." He laid careful kisses backed by desirous pressure down her neck. Steve's tongue lined her collarbone. He shifted down her body suddenly, tracing the tip of his tongue around and then over her nipple. Diana cried out, tangling her fingers in the longer hair at the top of Steve's head after they skimmed the short sides, leaving her palms tingling.

"And this," Diana's breath caught as Steve dug his fingers into her other breast, squeezing sensuously, "is how a man is attentive?"

He raised his head, looking at her with hazy, hungry eyes. He shook his head with no uncertainty.

"Definitely not. No man will ever get the opportunity to be attentive to you."

Diana laughed, cupping his cheek.

"You are not making any sense, Steve. You yourself are a man."

"Right." He looked at her smugly. "And I would never take you for granted by being merely attentive."

She rolled her eyes, smiling.

"And what does that mean?"

"Why don't you hold onto that question and summarize it for me later?" He winked at her and unfastened her skirt, sitting back to bring it down her hips.

Diana had not been raised to feel awkward in her nudity―there had never been any reason. However, as she held her bent legs open, still accommodating the way he kneeled between them, and Steve slid his impassioned gaze over her, Diana felt humbled. Nothing in Steve's eyes told her she was less than him, but she would gladly have gotten on her knees before him; his love and desire for her were bound together in that look and she was overwhelmed to be loved so much. So much and so well.

He let the jacket fall from his shoulders and down his arms, signalling to her with the smallest gesture that she should sit up. Diana raised herself on her hands, lowering her eyes when Steve leaned forward, their cheeks stroking each other's in passing. The scratch of his unshaven face filled her with want and Diana's chest heaved. She found she was arching against him, the inside of her thighs pressed to the outside of his. The swell of his crotch was pronounced when Steve tipped forward, laying his jacket out behind her for Diana to recline on. It was gallant, but did not occupy her mind very much in that moment.

Holding herself up on an angle, Steve's body slanted forward and parallel to hers, Diana pressed her nose to the side of his face. With her eyes closed, his uneven breathing was an intimate whisper fluttering her hair. She reached out and removed her boots one at a time, bending her body into his. Steve's lips danced along the underside of her jaw and one of his hands ran over the curve of her hip. Her feet free, Diana let her hand glide sideways, over Steve's thigh, then pressed her open palm to his erection. Steve mumbled a slow, grating groan and ran his hand up her back, laying her down underneath him as he stretched out over her.

In what he must have seen as a fair exchange for her lingering touch, Steve trailed his fingers up Diana's inner thigh. She could feel the wet heat of herself and when his fingertips graced the juncture of her thighs, moving smoothly through her arousal, Diana pressed her hips back against his hand, wanting more. He refused her anything other than the gentlest of touches, so she plucked the material of his shirt between her fingers and eased it up his stomach. Steve's fingers moved off of her to sling the shirt over his head, but, the task accomplished, did not return to the place where she needed them to be. He stroked over her hip bone, then rubbed his flat rough palm down to mold itself to the crook where her inner thigh met her hips. With unhurried determination, Steve kissed across the top of Diana's chest, halting where her heart beat hard under her skin. She breathed quicker, enjoying herself despite wishing she could force him to hasten his movements and get himself inside her more swiftly. If he was going to act like there was all the time in the world―which she knew she'd had before he entered her life―then so would she.

Diana slid her hands between them, down Steve's chest to his abdomen, where her fingers stroked leisurely across his skin. His grip tensed, clutching her pounding pulse point, and his mouth came up to kiss her neck. She felt lower, unbuttoning his pants and slipping just her fingertips below the fabric of his underwear, scraping lightly with her nails. Steve jumped, nudging his covered erection against her, then sending his hips into retreat as he moved his hand between her legs once more. Diana moaned. She grabbed at his shoulder with one hand and tunneled the other lower to run her palm down the hot length of him. He pushed shaking fingers through her wetness, spreading it thickly from her entrance over her clit before pressing there and manipulating it up and down. The action was sudden and she locked her arm behind the back of his neck, concentrating all her energy on the pleasure he was providing. Diana clasped his erection and gave it a similarly abrupt stroke. Her name came tumbling from his generous lips, muffled when he pressed them to hers.

Leaving his thumb to tend to her external pleasure, Steve pushed a finger up into her, curling it with great intention. When her mouth opened to cry out, he introduced his tongue, kissing her passionately. Even the arm he was using to support himself shuffled inward, squeezing the back of her neck as he continued and her head rocked from side to side. Diana instinctually lifted her feet off the floor, wrapping her strong legs around Steve. It was difficult to summon the will to tear his hand away from her, but she did it, though he fought to deliver a final flick to her clit; Diana let go of his neck, taking Steve by the wrist and bringing his hand under his layers to meet hers.

He drew his face back, looking at her with surprise, but Diana only smiled, rubbing her hand over the back of his and encouraging him to pump his shaft. Steve panted as, together, they painted her wetness over him. Diana freed her unoccupied hand and gripped the back of Steve's neck, kissing his mouth, then down his throat when his breathing became too heavy. She determined he'd had as much as he could take and tilted her hips against his so that he was pushed onto his back. Their hands came away and Diana backed down his body, taking his remaining garments with her. She tugged the boots and socks from his feet and left everything in a pile, then copied his earlier action, moving her gaze slowly along his body and loitering longest at that above average part of him. Arrogantly, Steve tucked his arms beneath his head and stared back at her.

"They didn't have this in any of those 12 volumes, did they?"

"Actually," Diana began, lowering her face to run her tongue up his inner thigh, "there were several anatomical diagrams. It's just that," she looked hard into his eyes then parted her lips over the head of his cock, applying the briefest suction, "they are only books, after all."

"Goddamn," he muttered, unfolding his arms to grab her around the waist and toss her down onto her back.

He moved with urgency, kissing her with a fervour that made Diana wonder if the fire was burning in him as well. Steve felt again for her clit, making sloppy circles as he plunged inside her; their moans were simultaneous, full of shock and want. She hooked one leg over his hip so that he was held against her, but still able to move―which he began to do. With fiery abandon. Steve caressed her from the inside out, running his lips from her shoulder to her jaw while driving into her with rolling thrusts. Diana voiced her pleasure freely, looking into his eyes to allow Steve the gratification of seeing how he satisfied her. He bit at his full lips, focusing, angling his hips to reach deeper, to connect with her just right. Diana curved her torso up, letting the fine hair on his chest scratch at her nipples, then grasping his shoulders, anchoring herself before pitching her hips down onto his.

Her body's pleasure separated into layers―a buzzing tingle rising above the deep thrum at the base of her need. She knew Steve's jacket was soft under her shoulders, but she couldn't feel its texture. She knew the belly of the plane must be as chilled as a field at dawn, but she was held fast in Steve's heat, her skin sweating under his palm when he held her lower back. Diana would have liked to take him on his back, triumphant in her victory―one that would surely find its way into the annals of her people―and several times felt the muscles of her legs twitch, yearning to flip and ride him. And yet, she couldn't, because it was his victory too.

Steve's fingers deserted her clit as they moved as one into the last throes of their joining. Diana hiked her other leg up to trap his hips completely. His arms crossed behind her back, pulled her up against him. The look in his bright blue eyes went from stunned to anguished to overwhelmed―she knew she was watching him relive their last hours. Diana's head fell back and she felt him twisting his fingers into the ends of her long hair and then she felt much more, all at once. Steve pressed into her sharply, like a honed blade, and let his face drop against her neck, mumbling how he loved her. They seemed to be frozen like a statue as Diana gave herself up to the sensation, trusting it not to let her fall though it seemed to take her so far above the earth. Trusting him.

She blinked rapidly and sighed with an exhaustion she hadn't known her body was capable of feeling. Steve laid her back, taking care not to let her head knock the ground by placing his hand under it. He took himself out of her and rolled onto his back at her side, blinking with what appeared to be amazement at the ceiling. Diana shifted over to look at him, placing her palm cautiously on his chest. Steve turned his head quickly, wincing as he strained his neck, and let his eyes run all over her face.

"Come here," he whispered. Diana slid her hand across his skin until her arm lay flat. He kept staring at her, so she wound her leg over his as well, her stomach pressing his hip.

"Are you cold?" He rubbed his hand along her arm.

"No." She gave his cheek a lingering kiss.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling, drumming his fingers nervously on the back of her hand. Diana buried her face in his neck, waiting for him to say whatever it was that he was trying not to.

"I… I was afraid today."

She drew her face back and he turned his head to meet her eyes.

"Do you not ever feel fear in battle, Steve?"

His forehead creased as he thought.

"Yes. I mean, of course. Always a little. You can be confident, prepare as much as you can, but you're only ever in control of yourself. But it wasn't the Germans who made me afraid. Or even Ares," he added.

"Who were you afraid of?"

"Not of, for. I was afraid for you, Diana." His gaze touched her lips, probed deeply into her eyes.

"It was a challenge, but it was worth it. You should never be afraid when what you will achieve is greater than what you face."

His mouth raised in an easy grin.

"Well, naturally you weren't afraid."

"I was very, very afraid, Steve." She shook her head slowly.

"But you just said―"

"What I said is what I will always strive for, but it was not the truth for me today."

"I guess that's fair." He shifted. Touched her hip. "It's not every day you go up against a god."

Diana smiled and propped herself up so that she could kiss him. Steve responded eagerly and she pulled back, smiling wider.

"You have just made the same point and still you do not understand? I was afraid for you only, Steve. Ever since I saw your plane flying towards Themyscira I have not wanted to see you fly away." She paused, her smile wilting. "I love you and I don't ever want to see you put yourself in danger." Diana's voice grew increasingly choked until tears began to slip down her cheeks.

Steve stroked his thumb carefully under each of her eyes, kissed her forehead, and then her lips.

"You love me?" he asked softly, running his fingers through her hair. Diana nodded readily. "Wow," he said, bringing back her smile.

"You know," she said, after giving him a few moments to think, "we Amazons have trained ourselves with the anticipation of war for so long, but it was love, not swordsmanship, that was our original reason for being. The greatest ambition must then also be love. As long as we do not fear love, then we will never taste failure."

"And…?" Steve's smile flickered across his mouth like a shadow. Diana tipped her head, confused. "Are you afraid?" he clarified.

"Not now," she said, laying her hand over his heart.