Author's Note: It begins! Or continues... You know, however you'd prefer to think of it. Purpose is fourth in line for my ongoing first-person Justice League series, chronologically following Anchor, Respond, and Branches. As always, character ownership goes to DC Comics.

I'm not exactly sure where the thought came from, but it occurs to me that almost without me realizing it, my nightly patrols have been getting shorter and shorter. I'm letting myself rely more and more on Tim and Barbara. I'm trusting them to lighten my burden, just as they've asked and offered for years.

I've always known I'd have to slow down, that I'd need to take it a little easier in order to simply keep going, to keep Batman in the minds of Gotham's criminal underworld. So, while I of course still patrol Gotham each night, I've gradually started my patrols later and later in the evening. I leave Tim and Barbara in charge of Gotham until I join them a little while before midnight each night. Our respective shifts still overlap, but only for a few hours after I take to the city instead of the better part of each night.

I haven't kept a precise schedule, instead occasionally beginning my patrols earlier and periodically ending them later in the early morning. If nothing else, that helps to keep Arkham's regulars from noticing my pattern. And, of course, if something happens that Tim or Barbara can't handle on their own, I suit up to help.

And why? The answer is not my health. Instead, it's for the woman beside me on the sofa. It's all on account of Diana, though not directly. Time I've allocated for our dinner dates has become routinely ours, giving way to evening plans that have only become more frequent with my more open schedule. Through it all, she has never once asked me to delay my patrols. I appreciate her all the more for that.

Truthfully, it's what I've been wary of for years. Isley's pheromone-laden plant-people proved to me yet again what I've always known: that love and happiness distract from the mission. I would be lying to myself saying the same isn't true with Diana now so important a part of my life. But the happiness we've found in each other and freely express is intoxicating.

I don't fight it anymore. I haven't for months. My oldest friend opened my eyes—eyes too long focused on the darkness in this world—to the reason people are happy, the reason my parents were happy. I've always cared deeply for this world and its inhabitants. Now, I fight to protect my own happiness and theirs, not just the safety of the city I've taken into my care.

I turn my head to my left, my eyes panning across the manor's expansive library, skipping quickly across my surroundings before finally slowing to a stop when my vision is filled by the gorgeous image of the woman of my affections. To the world, she is their Wonder Woman. To Batman, she is a strong, valuable ally. To Bruce Wayne, she is Diana. Undeniable, irreplaceable. A well of strength and trust, a source of light in my darkness-ruled life.

She lifts her right hand from her book, sweeps a few errant locks of her hair back into place behind her ear. She glances over as she lowers her hand back to her book, notices me looking at her. She turns her head and smiles. I can feel the pull at my cheeks, the shifting of my own lips as I return it.

"Something wrong, Bruce?" Her tone is quiet, light with humor.

"No, of course not," I answer softly.

"Well, so long as I have your attention…" After trailing off, Diana leans a little closer. I note the meaning of her hands, still relaxedly holding her book, and lean in. I kiss her as soon as I'm close enough. She hums her approval against my mouth and I give her the lead in our short dance of lips. She kisses me back for just as long as I had before grasping my lower lip between hers and giving it a quick, gentle squeeze.

She pulls away and we share an affectionate smile. I spend an extra moment looking her over as she sits straight again and returns her attention to her book. Her dress is casual, even more so than mine. I have my daily work clothes on, the tan suit my employees and colleagues at Wayne Enterprises are so familiar with. Diana is wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt.

The fact first struck me as odd, but there's something about her relaxedness that calms me. I try my best to thank her with every kiss, every embrace, and every time we take each other's hands. I occasionally put my gratitude into words, too, but…I suppose I'm still not as strong with them as I could be.

I hear a throat being cleared off to my right and begin turning my head as Diana lifts her gaze to look as well. We look to find Alfred standing just inside the library's entrance. "Very sorry to disturb you both, but there's a call for you, Master Bruce."

I relax in my seat and close my eyes and my book. I give a sigh of less than serious exasperation and ask no one in particular, "What good is it to disconnect the phone if people can still just call and ask for me?"

"I apologize again, Master Bruce. You of course know that I take no joy in interrupting your time together. I assumed it was simply a matter of technical difficulty with the phone."

In lieu of any sort of verbal admonishment, Diana makes judicious use of her right elbow to give me a quick jab in my left side. After letting out a short, quiet grunt in response, I open my eyes and look up to my oldest friend with the understanding I'd already planned on showing. "It's alright, Alfred. I'm sorry for making you come all the way out here instead of just transferring the call."

I stand up and look to Diana, who gives me a quick nod of approval. I set my book down as if to save my seat and cross the room to the desk. I give a little exhale of annoyance and crouch down, fetching the end of the phone cord from the floor. I plug it back into the phone and, almost immediately, it lights up.

I pick up the receiver and turn back towards Alfred. "Incidentally, who's calling?"

"Miss Lane, sir."

My eyes widen briefly with my surprise, the action involuntarily. I immediately look to Diana. She gives me a short, stern glance in warning the moment she sees that she has my eyes. It fades quickly and she turns back to her book.

I turn back to the phone and reach out to press the button for the active line. "Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce. Lois. Glad I caught you while you're home."

"Is something the matter?"

"Yes. Well, no, I just wanted to get some advice."

"Advice? I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss as to what sort of advice I could offer you, Lois."

"Well…the thing is I can't keep myself from thinking back to that interview with you and Wonder Woman." Lois pauses to sigh. "Seeing what you have—even just that tiny glimpse—was sort of eye-opening. The more I think about it, the more sick and tired I am of Superman pulling my butt out of the fire when I need it—yes, I know I certainly need his help, though I'd like to think it's not always my fault—and then just leaving things as they are.

"You're making things work with Wonder Woman, right? Alright, I guess I don't need to ask that. After all, the two of you are certainly doing a good job keeping all the gossip columnists busy whenever you go out in public."

I can't help but smirk. "Lois, by any chance, are you—"

"Envious! Let's say envious. It doesn't sound as negative…" Lois pauses again. "How do you think I could get him to open up to me again?"

She doesn't give me much time to answer, switching tracks slightly and continuing. I hear Lois beginning to tell me some ideas that she already came up with. Although not being intentionally rude, I don't pay much more attention to her because—and I can't explain why—my thoughts go back to the private LexCorp Airfield, where I landed when I first met Lois and Clark and where we later said our farewells. I remember what I told Kent. 'I suppose this is close enough to not being good to Lois.'

A plan of action comes to me almost immediately. "Don't worry, Lois. I'll take care of it." I only realize halfway through that I'm interrupting her in mid-sentence.

"…Ok, that kind of scares me. I guess I shouldn't ask what you're planning, should I, Bruce?" I hear a throat pointedly clearing behind myself and I'm not entirely sure why I fail to heed it. "I have to admit, I feel a little better about this with you helping. And so long as I'm in the mood to talk, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for dumping you so abruptly and for letting my feelings linger so long. I can't imagine the knowledge has helped Diana any. I would have told you earlier, but you have a nasty habit of disappearing while people's backs are turned."

"It's fine, Lois. To be perfectly honest, I was taken off-guard by how quickly I fell for you as well."

Immediately, there's a hand on my left shoulder. From the moment I feel it, I know it belongs to Diana, a fact made clearer when she begins to squeeze. My legs soon weaken and begin to bend despite my willful attempts to keep them straight. I brace my left hand against the top of the desk to steady myself. I pull the receiver from my ear and turn it away to let loose a pained groan. When it passes, I bring the receiver back to my ear.

I decide to finish instead of appealing directly to Diana. "But even so, I had a nagging feeling that things wouldn't work out. I never could have stopped being who I am, even if I were to someday have had an infamously tenacious reporter for a wife." Somehow, I manage to mostly keep my voice even.

Luckily, the comment sates Diana. Her grip quickly relaxes and, for a few moments, she even rubs my shoulder apologetically before pulling her hand away. Meanwhile, Lois laughs. I know she's laughing about what I said, but for a brief instant, I entertain the thought that she is laughing at me, for folding so easily to Diana.

"Well," Lois begins once calm, "speaking as one such infamously tenacious reporter, I'd much rather have to do some real reporting legwork for the exposé on any responsible side to the elusive Mr. Wayne than have you screw up and let something slip. But how about now, Bruce? How is it with Diana?"

I look away from the desk, towards Diana. She lifts her arms from her sides when she sees me turn and tries to look displeased. Her expression shifts subtly as she crosses her arms below her bust to silently protest my talk of past romantic love, her anger becoming clearer.

In spite of her expression, I reach out with my open left hand. I hold it out in front of Diana and smile as warmly as I can manage. She looks down at my hand for a moment, leaning a little to her left, over her left foot. As her eyes come back up to mine, her expression shifts a second time, becoming an image of inquiring disbelief.

I stay still, ignoring Lois repeating my name in question so that I can hold the smile on my lips for that much longer. After another few breaths, Diana's expression falters. She closes her eyes as her face falls neutral. Her shoulders drop and her arms separate. She reaches down for my hand as she opens her eyes and smiles.

I feel the radiance of Diana's warmth against my hand and let no more time pass before answering Lois for Diana's benefit. "She knew all about me long before I ever thought of inviting her into my home."

"That's nice, Bruce." Sincerity; there's nothing sarcastic about the comment, rather it almost seems more openly envious than her earlier admission. "I'd like to be able to say similar about Superman and myself someday. Well, either with me inviting him here or with him inviting me to his home—unless it means that stupid fortress up near the North Pole. I can't imagine him not having some sort of place to live in Metropolis—I mean, I doubt even he can hear me screaming my head off from all the way up in the artic."

I nearly chuckle at where Lois' doubt lies. "Don't worry about it. You'll be able to say the same someday."

"Thanks, Bruce. This isn't the advice I was hoping for, but I do feel better about him."

"Oh... Well, would you like some advice?" I can't help myself from asking, turning my eyes towards the receiver. I make the question rhetorical, continuing without letting even a single breath pass. "If I've learned anything over the years, Lois, it's that superheroes are stubborn to a fault. Make use of it."

Lois laughs again. "Got another? You've already read me that line."

"Sorry. In that case I'm fresh out of advice."

"Alright." She chuckles. "I'll just have to take what I can get. Thanks again, Bruce."

"Of course. Good evening, Lois."

"Night."

I turn, lowering the receiver back onto its cradle. The moment I hang up, Diana breaks the momentary silence. "Should I feel complimented or insulted?"

I turn back to Diana, reach out with my newly freed hand and take hers. "I should feel insulted. I was talking about myself."

She finally straightens, centering herself over her feet. "I can live with that," she replies perhaps a little too happily. I start to frown, but she pulls our hands out from between our bodies and swings her hands back behind herself, taking mine with them and pulling me closer.

Even if I wanted to resist, when she wants to be, she's stronger than I could ever hope to simply overpower. Fortunately, resistance isn't among my wildest thoughts. I lean the rest of the way, tightening my fingers over Diana's hands as I press my lips to hers. She wastes no time, responding and kissing back immediately. As we begin kissing at each other's lips, Diana's hands open. I take the hint and opportunity, turning my hands, keeping my palms on hers while I interlock our fingers.

We continue apace for nearly a minute before I feel Diana's hands begin to move. She pulls her hands free of mine and her hands begin traveling up my arms. I reach forward with my hands, looking to put my hands on her waist. I feel more pants than shirt and my eyes open as my lips still.

Diana's face is above mine. Somehow I had missed the slow, subtle shift as she lifted herself from the floor. She stops at my motionlessness and pulls away. I take a moment to look down and first see my hands are on her thighs. I then see that she's still only a scant few inches into the air and lift my gaze back to her face.

Her confusion gives way to an understanding smile and her hands leave me. A moment later, she rests her wrists on my shoulders, reaching back to place her left hand on the back of my head and her right from the top of my back to as high as my neck. I tip my head back, following her as she lifts herself higher.

She pulls herself close again and, between her arms, her breasts press against about the level of my collarbone. I lift my chin higher to meet her lips once more with my own. At the same time, I find the hem of her shirt and slip my fingers under it while lifting my hands to her waist.

Diana lets out a little hum of appreciation. I feel it from my lips and, I'd swear, all the way out to my fingers and toes. The gesture emboldens me and, as we take turns going after one another's lips, I slip my hands further upwards across Diana's skin, my thumbs on her sides, my fingers on her back, and my palms spanning the distance.

For a moment, I remember my surroundings. I fervently hope that Alfred is no longer in the room—I can't remember noticing him at all after I picked up the phone. If I had more time, I'd probably remember the favor he's shown Diana and myself, the respect for our privacy and the lengths he's gone to protect us from interruption. If not for Diana planting a playful kiss on the end of my nose, I'd also probably wonder about the oddity of him bothering to relay Lois' phone call at all.

I find my eyes drawn to the alluring beauty of Diana's lips for as long as they're within view. It isn't long before I can't help myself and reach out to kiss her again. She gives another hum, although this time it's a muffled, almost sultry chuckle. I spend a moment thinking about what—aside from our lips drawn together by our passion—she might happy about.

It only takes that one moment for it to hit me. I pull my lips away. "Diana—" She interrupts me with another kiss and I return it long enough to briefly capture the velvety softness of each of her lips. "you know I still—" Another kiss and with both of us more than willing to participate. "have to say it."

I lower my hands beneath Diana's shirt until they are again just above the waistline of her pants, letting my hands continue to bask in her warmth. At that, Diana relents. Her expression falls and she moves back a little, her hips and legs staying mostly against me, but leaning her upper body away and letting her arms fall until her hands come to rest on my shoulders.

"I have to go see Kent."

"Kal?" Confusion colors her words and her gorgeous, sable-framed visage. "Why?"

"I have to make good on an old promise."

"To Lois?" Clear disapproval.

"No. To Clark."

"You aren't going to tell me more than that, are you?"

"Sorry." My apology is heartfelt, I leave no room for doubt of that. 'I just don't think you would approve of my plan.'

She tips her head forward and closes her eyes. I tip my head closer as well, watching her, letting our foreheads come together gently before I close my own eyes. Some of her hair comes loose from behind her ears. I feel the errant hairs begin to rub against my face before stilling while Diana meanwhile sighs. "Alright, fine."

She doesn't move for a moment and I know she is looking for more to say. "Well, if I can't keep you from going, I hope you don't mind me asking you to hurry back."

"Not at all, Diana."

"Good. Come back quickly enough and I might just spend tonight in that lovely bedroom Alfred prepared for me."

I knew there would be another chip she'd try to play. "Instead of the Watchtower?"

"Instead of the Watchtower."

"I don't know, Diana. Are you sure you want to put that on the table again? You've made good use of the closet, most of the furniture, and the bath, but it makes Alfred very sad that you've never stayed the night to use the bed. He always keeps it neatly made just in case..."

Diana reaches up from my shoulder with her right hand to gently pinch the side of my neck. "Hey... Who's supposed to be coercing who here?"

I laugh. I can't help it—don't even want to. She lifts her head from mine as I quickly grow more boisterous. When my laughter subsides, I pull Diana down, coaxing her out of the air. When her feet are flat on the floor, I lean toward her and give her a quick kiss.

"Nothing to do now but wait until I get home to see which of us was successful." I let her go and she does the same once my hands have left her shirt.

Diana nods. "I love you, Bruce," she says softly before letting me leave.

"I love you, too, Diana." I'm without hesitation. There is no uneasiness holding me back, as there was surrounding those first few dreams. "I'll see you later tonight."

She nods and steps aside for me to leave. I walk briskly to more quickly cross the manor. I arrive in the study and pass the grandfather clock to enter the Batcave, where I find Alfred near the Batwing.

"Alfred?"

"Ahh! There you are, sir," he calls back. He closes a maintenance panel, then secures it into place. "I anticipated when Miss Lane called that you might need to leave for Metropolis. You'll forgive me for assuming you might prefer this mode of transport."

"Thank you, Alfred." I give a humorless smirk as I reach the bottom of the steps and head for the display cases. "I'll admit I tend to avoid shooting my atoms into space whenever I can."

"Bad experience, sir?" he asks knowingly as I retrieve my Batsuit.

"Bad dream, more accurately," I answer, following his lead and making light of my ongoing situation.

I begin to change, handing each piece of my suit to Alfred as I go. "When were the last updates?"

"Master Timothy checked in nearly an hour ago to report breaking up some minor trouble near the Ace Chemical plant. Miss Gordon recently reported some activity of interest in the vicinity of the Iceberg Lounge."

"Penguin?" I ask while finishing the boots and pants of my Batsuit.

"My apologies, Master Bruce. Miss Lane's call interrupted me before I could delve further into the details. Perhaps it will make for a good listen during your flight."

"Right." I pause to finish donning my suit, ending with the gloves and pulling my cowl into place. 'He's goading me.' I look to Alfred and ask, "Is it safe to assume you want me to make this trip as quickly as possible, too?"

"And for a moment I worried we would have to pass your title on to The Flash…"

I give an amused grunt. 'World's Greatest Detective; something that's helped me get into about as much trouble as it's gotten me out of.'

I step past Alfred and make my way to the Batwing. I climb into my pilot's seat and begin the familiar routine of pre-flight checks. I spot Alfred approaching just as I begin to power up the engine. "Any specific instructions while you're gone, sir?"

"As usual, Alfred."

"Of course, sir. Might I assume it appropriate to notify Miss Diana when you will be back?"

"Yes, I'd appreciate it. Thank you again, Alfred."

Finally, I close the canopy and Alfred steps back, moving far enough away to be safe before it closes. I look up towards the Batwing's access cave and make sure the exterior door is ready for me before beginning my takeoff. The telltale scream of the engine fills my ears as the aircraft bearing my costumed name begins to move.

In a few minutes, I've left the grandeur of Wayne Manor behind and turned away from Gotham. My course set, I lift my hand, preparing to review Batgirl's report and then radio her about what she saw at Penguin's establishment. My hand stops in mid-air. Eventually, it falls back to the Batwing's controls.

I instead find myself looking back in time. My thoughts start with my lack of hesitation offering endearments to Diana. Just three months ago, I still might have hesitated—only for a moment, but hesitation nonetheless. A few days earlier, when I still knew nothing of Diana's visions, gets into hesitations and doubts today's Diana would certainly take issue with.

Regardless, I spent a few days afterwards coming to grips with the fact that Diana knows the darkest side of my past, that she witnessed the moment I lost my innocence. She watched as my childhood was torn from me before I was ready to become a man, leaving me a mere existence, barely alive. I can't help but take satisfaction from the fact that it affected her as strongly as it did. In a way, the atrocity of my parents' murder both spawned Batman and, years later, kept the Justice League whole.

More importantly, her pity had quickly faded. I'm sure she still thinks back to that June night, but she doesn't regard me as the poor soul disgracing the memory my parents left behind that so many others see upon mistaking the playboy for all that I am. I take solace in that she simply understands, that she shares her own pains and comforts me for mine. In that regard, it's almost reminiscent of Leslie.

Accepting that Diana could struggle as deeply with my parents' death as I do was difficult to accept, but eventually, I realized something: in the rawest of truths, we both faced the abyss, overcame it, and emerged stronger. The murder itself and my role in it were my abyss, the mission my answer to it, the inspiration of bats my avenue. For Diana, the abyss engulfed her, threatening to tear her apart. She pulled herself free from it only to witness my defining moment. The experience instilled the same drive in her that it did me, though admittedly our executions were different, but then, so are our tools.

My thoughts slowly fall silent, leaving me for the most part still as I continue to fly. The quiet, droning scream of the Batwing's engine accompanies me the whole flight, a constant reminder that my tools are different from not just Diana, but all of my colleagues. Examining my methods and the effect of my mere presence in contrast to even just the other League founders, it makes me think that to the common criminal, I am more Crane than Dent or Cobblepot.

Finally, the Metropolis skyline stretches out before me. I refocus on my surroundings and get my bearings. At the same time, I tap into the network of WayneTech satellites, navigating the city with the network's data. I switch flight modes and gently set the Batwing on the flat roof of a high rise.

I shut off the Batwing's flight systems and initialize its security routines as the canopy opens. I climb out onto the roof and reach down to my belt for my grapnel as I approach the edge of the roof. When I'm sure the Batwing's canopy is closed behind me, I fire the grapnel at the skyline and take off, putting some distance between myself and my mode of transport.

I find another good rooftop a few minutes later and move to stand in the middle of the open space. I lift my hand to my ear and tunnel into the Justice League's communication system. "Batman to Superman."

I wait for the automated system to connect me and then find myself waiting a few minutes more. Finally, I receive an answer. "Superman here." He interrupts himself with a yawn and I can't say I'm surprised that I woke him. "What is it?"

"We need to talk. I'm already in Metropolis."

"Ok…where are you?"

"A rooftop a couple blocks east of the Daily Planet. You'll see me."

Another yawn. "Alright, hold on."

I turn towards Clark's apartment building and wait. It takes barely a minute for the Man of Steel to arrive. "Alright, I'm awake and here. What dragged you out of your cave?" he jokes.

'Too bad I'm not exactly here for jokes.' I let him land and approach me before answering. "It may have been a little implicit, but I made you a promise a long time ago, Clark. I'm here to make good on it, but you'll have to forgive my delivery."

I reach for my belt underneath my cape. "Ok… Am I supposed to guess—" Superman cuts himself off with a pained groan as I pull the kryptonite shard from the compartment on my utility belt.

His hands come up defensively as I step closer and he tries to shield his face before collapsing, falling backwards and landing on his back at my feet. He strains to speak. "Bruce! Bruce, what are you doing?" His voice is weak, barely louder than a quiet conversational tone.

"Pushing you into an elevator to make a point." I pause, stepping closer to Superman's feet as I lower my arm and the kryptonite in my outstretched hand. I don't doubt that he remembers what I mean. "Certainly doesn't take much, does it, Clark?" Another reference I'm sure he will remember.

His only response is another groan of pain. "You spend much time thinking about how easily you could die tomorrow? Take a moment to think about how much you would regret leaving undone if I dropped this kryptonite onto your chest and left you to die."

I fall silent. I give him extra time for my words to sink in amidst the pain. He answers me only with groans, his hands slowly falling away, dropping towards his chest. "You aren't the only one who suffers for your self-sacrifices, Superman. Sometimes, you have to trust others to know what's best, both for you and for them."

My point made, I return the kryptonite to its lead compartment and step back. Superman starts to recover immediately, letting out something between a sigh and a groan to indicate his relief. He begins to relax and I begin stepping around him to return to the Batwing.

"That's real rich coming from you." His tone is nearly spiteful, but given what I just did, I can't blame him. He begins to get up, propping himself up on his right arm as he turns to follow me with his glare. "Or are you speaking from experience?"

I stop walking, turn my head towards him as he rises to his feet. "Maybe I don't always know what's best, but I'm still usually right." I look forward and step up to the edge of the roof.

I lift my arm, fire my grapnel at a nearby building. I hesitate before letting the line retract. "I've learned a lot of late… About myself, others, her. You could stand to learn a few things yourself, or relearn, whichever the case may be. In light of everything that's happened to me, what I find most vexing is how you could have ever let it all go without a fight..."

Before Superman can reply, I activate the grapnel and take to the Metropolis sky, leaving Krypton's last son to his thoughts. I cover the distance back to the Batwing quickly and get in as soon as I arrive.

Not ten minutes after I'm in the air, I receive a call. I reach to the communications screen and activate it. Alfred's image appears and his voice fills the cockpit. "I see you've taken off, sir."

"Have you been keeping tabs on me, Alfred?"

"Only occasionally and by force of habit, sir."

"And Diana?"

"I believe she is taking a short nap while awaiting your return." He gives an exasperated sigh and I have a feeling I know what he'll say next. "It's so disappointing that so few make good use of the beds I meticulously prepare each morning."

I wasn't wrong and find myself waiting an extra moment before responding. "Well, I tried."

Alfred gives a sigh of resignation. "I'm sure you did, sir, but I suppose some things just take more time than I'd like."

"Meaning?"

"Might I be so bold as to ask how many times you've been to the jeweler's in the past few weeks, sir? For simplicity's sake, shall we focus solely on your daytime visits?"

I frown. 'He really has been keeping tabs on me…' I can't help but shift uncomfortably in my seat. "…That's not something I want to rush, Alfred."

"Of course I sympathize, Master Bruce, but have you not delayed enough already?"

I turn, avoiding Alfred's eyes for a moment to think. 'He's right, naturally.' In light of everything I just finished telling Clark, I suppose I can't let myself delay any longer. After all, what do I really have to offer but time?

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

Alright, a few items of note. First, the weekly release schedule I kept up with Anchor, Respond, and Branches didn't leave me much time for anything else. I don't mean to say I didn't enjoy writing them (especially the feedback), but I'm going to be a little stricter about Wednesdays moving forward. Rather, if a chapter or one-shot isn't to the length/scope/quality I want it at by the end of a particular Wednesday, I'm going to push posting back until the next Wednesday. The upside of this is a lot less typing pains for me. The downside is potentially less frequent updates. My goal will stay at weekly releases (outside writing vacations). Status information will be on my Profile.

Second, I want to thank everyone who came and read during my little vacation. Readership seemed to fall into a weekly cycle by the end of Branches. I expected readership to fall off a cliff while things were stagnant, but with three completed fanfics to be read at leisure, I've seen far more readers than I ever hoped. So, I'd like to welcome all my new readers and thank everyone who read or re-read Anchor, Respond, and Branches while waiting for something new.

The third thing is a word about chapter perspectives. In Branches, I was able to alternate between Bruce's perspective and Diana's from one chapter to the next, something I started as early as with Respond and Anchor. I still want Purpose to be told in roughly equal parts by Bruce and Diana, but there will be times when one character or another will get multiple chapters in a row to themselves.