Standard disclaimers apply. Made for practice, not profit.

GREEK TO ME

Bruce reviewed manager reports with an ear out for radio news. The words 'Justice League' caught his attention. According to the presenter, his colleagues just finished rescuing tourists from a quake-hit Santorini. Being on duty, and the only one to speak the language, Diana was definitely among the ones dispatched. Knowing she wouldn't be too happy upon return, Bruce decided to do something about it. He pulled open a drawer, took a few items form the stationary, and scribbled something on an envelope. Cutting across the apartment, he left the envelope, paper and pen on her nightstand.

A whoosh from outside told of Diana's return. When her footsteps failed to eco through the apartment, Bruce left for the living room. He saw Diana sitting near the ledge, facing the shore. She stared beyond the western horizon oblivious to the cityscape. Her appearance was weary, and there was more to it than exhaustion.

­­Welcome back.­­ Bruce pushed the balcony doors open.

Diana forced a smile. Hello.

Bruce walked to her side and sat down, his arms loosely wrapped around knees. For a long while he too looked over harbor bay. Finally Bruce turned to Diana, understanding and sympathizing. You miss them.

Um-hum. She nodded, still looking out.

Bruce cupped her chin to make her face him and passed the thumb over her cheek. His expression turned to stern kindness. Don't.

Her brow gathered. How?

Rising, Bruce offered a hand. Come here...

Helping Diana up, he lead her inside. Strolling through the apartment, they reached the counter. She reached for the fruit bowl but his hand quickly slipped over it.

­Clean up. He threw a glance at her smeared hand.

She held up a finger. Be right back.

Bruce didn't mind her appearance much, but figured she could use the chance to unwind. And he needed to be alone for something. The noise of a bath being filled told he had ample time. Turning round the counter, he swallowed a lump. For a moment he considered calling for help. As Alfred once noted, any kind of chemistry Bruce attempted would turn explosive. None the less, he decided against the cop out. Fortunately for him, there was more to this than chemistry, some of it was just physics. With a deep breath Bruce steeled himself and stepped into dangerous territory. Grabbing the first opponent he pulled out a large knife.

Having filled the tub, Diana decided to just soak for an hour, melting the day's strain. Finally returning to the living room, she was pleasantly surprised by the sight.

The setting sun cast amber light on the ceiling, lighting the room indirectly. Familiar instruments played familiar, low-key music from the stereo. Two glasses of red wine were on the large coffee table, along with a bowl of mixed nuts and dry fruit. Cinders crackled in the fireplace. The smell of open fire stirred memories of victory feasts.

Diana peeked at the study but didn't find Bruce there. To her surprise he arrived from the kitchen, carrying a large plate of smoke-dried ham, goat cheese and olives; and a basket of dark wheat bread. The food was all fresh, and there was not one utensil in sight. The place reminded more and more of her old home, even the pillars lining the glass wall reminded of the palace portico. Bruce himself completed the feel of an ancient feast. Propped up on one arm, he was horizontal on the sofa.

He skewered a byte-sized cheese chunk with a toothpick and offered. Want some?

Diana smiled for real this time. Sure. She settled on the other sofa and took the morsel with her fingers.

The two ate exchanging glances and gazes that alternated from tender to predatorily. But eventually Diana drifted back into nostalgia.

Why did she exile me… The unspoken question was evident in the expression of rejection.

"Quod licet Jovi…" Bruce neither needed nor wanted to finish the dicta. It carried connotations of cattle, and the Circe incident would not be helpful right then. His tone made it know that, though he understood the reason, he did not condone the action.

Diana smiled. It was not a Greek saying but came close enough. Like everything else about the evening. Or Bruce. He was as much as an ancient hero she was going to find in this world. Not with the strength of Hercules, for that was reserved for Clark, but cunning like Odysseus, and just as tenacious. Disciplined like a Spartan ascetic warrior, yet contrasted with all the liberal hedonism of an Athenian. An aristocrat who stuck it out for democracy. Familiar with both their old myths, philosophy and science. And a stoic by worldview, though he called it Zen.

Diana noticed night had fallen, and the brightest of stars appeared on the sky above the city. She sat up and walked outside, stargazing. She held her hand against the cold and sadness. Bruce followed suit, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around hers. He held her close for both literate and figurative warmth.

Cassiopeia, the queen. He 'wrote' the notable 'W' or crown.

King Cepheus. ­She 'drew' the house-like outline.

­­Andromeda, the princess. Bruce pointed at the smear that was Andromeda Galaxy

Diana made out a humanoid stick-figure. Her knight, Perseus.

They snuggled closer, watching the clear skies. "Tell me your myths." Diana broke the silence.

He made a thoughtful face. "Christian stories are painted on church roof murals, not the sky."

She sulked. Fake heavens…

Bruce bit his lip. "The Slavic people have different meanings for these stars, though they're not myths but scenes of every day life."

Diana looked up at him. Go on.

"Great and small carts." He encircled the big and little dipper. "Merchants ferrying cargo to and fro," He directed three fingers at the distinct three lined-up stars of Orion's belt. "Harvesters… Fishing hook." He traced the curve of Scorpio's tail.

Those? She pointed at the Pleiades cluster.

"Seven siblings." Bruce explained.

Diana shot him a look. Anything else?

Just a moment. He tapped a finger over his mouth. There! He aimed at a white, unblinking dot.

­"Saturn?"

Over there. He pointed at another such dot elsewhere on the sky.

Hmm… Diana tilted her head. "Jupiter?"

Bruce shook his head, a grin fighting through his self control. ­Nope.

The Tower!­ Her eyes and smile shot wide.

­­One and only. He grinned, pride flashing in his eyes.

An hour past in quiet star-gazing, thoughts interrupted by falling stars. Diana caught him glance nervously at the east. The dawning Sagittarius marked the approach of midnight.

She caught his eyes and, face serious, tipped her head at the bay. Go.

His brow gathered. You sure?

I'm sure. Diana nodded solemnly.

Sorry... Bruce gave her a look of apology and walked inside.

She remained on the roof, looking up at the sky. The familiar stars now had new meaning without loosing their old one. Diana hoped in time she could find a way to do the same. Bruce returned suited up and ready for patrol.

She pulled the cowl over his face with a concerned look. Take care.

Calm, Bruce brushed his finger over her cheek. Don't worry.

Diana watched him take off in a flutter of black, returning inside when he vanished among the shadows. She sauntered through the house until reaching the bedroom. Diana noticed the items on her nightstand and walked over to examine them. Pulling an envelope from under the blank paper, she smiled at the short inscription.

The one-word address read simply: "Themyscira"

The End

Quod licet Jovi non licet bovi. What is allowed to Jupiter (Jovi), is not allowed to a bull (hence the cattle thing)
Hypolita had to enforce the law, she didn't want to do it and she didn't like doing it.

The constellations are real Croatian constellations:
Big and Little Dipper, aka Velika & Mala Kola, meaning big and little cart
Orion's belt, aka Kosci, meaning wheat harvesters
Scorpio's tail, aka Udica, meaning fishing hook
Pleiadies, aka Vlašići, pronounced Vlashichi, meaning little Vlahs