Shall We Dance
By Serena
A/N: OK, this is just a pure mushy, fluffy, non-plotting, non-angsty oneshot. You have been warned! TOTAL BM/WW because it's my absolute favorite pairing in the DC universe. Used "The King and I" in this fic because I used to watch it all the time as a kid.
Dedicated to Miles333 because she's such a sweetheart. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or Wonder Woman (because if I did, they'd be together). Or Alfred. And I also don't own "The King and I."
Shall we dance? On a bright cloud of music, shall we fly? Shall we dance? Shall we then say goodnight and mean goodbye? Or perchance, when the last little star has left the sky, shall we still be together with our arms around each other and shall you be my new romance…
Diana's eyes were glued the screen in front of her. She was resting on her stomach on Bruce's comfortable sectional sofa, with her arms folded over and her chin resting on top of them. Her long dark hair draped down her back and over her shoulders. She was the picture of complete relaxation except for her attentive eyes that watched the LCD screen.
She'd come here for a cooking lesson from the master chef, Alfred the Great, but cookies were fairly simple to make, and after putting them in the oven, then came the waiting. Diana had offered to help Alfred clean up, but he insisted on shoving her (very politely) out of the kitchen and into the family room and suggested she watch a movie. With nothing else to do, Diana skimmed through the hundreds of different DVDs, not knowing most of them, until she came to one that looked interesting.
Plopping the DVD into the player, she reclined on the sofa and started to watch. Soon enough, though, her indignant Amazonian fury burst forth as she watched the arrogant King of Siam deal with his many wives, the harem, and the teacher.
"You misogynistic lout!" Diana yelled at the TV, ramming her hands onto the couch armrest. The wood strained under her fist.
Alfred, who had started to enter the room to tell her that the cookies were ready to come out of the oven, halted upon seeing her yell at the TV, opened his mouth to speak, and then shook his head slightly. His lips twitched upwards as he turned and silently left the room, wondering why Bruce had the DVD of "The King and I" in the first place. He didn't remember ordering it.
By the middle of the movie, Diana was gripping a pillow tightly in her hand, glaring darkly at the screen. Then, the King started to explain how women only existed to please men, and men existed to be pleased by women. He went into depth about how women were like blossoms with honey for only one man, but a man was like a bee, flying from blossom to blossom.
"Why you arrogant, self-righteous PERVERT!" Diana roared, and hurled her pillow at the TV. The TV wobbled on the wall.
In the kitchen, Alfred shook his head and chuckled, having been the listener of her vicious outcries for the past hour.
"I'll RIP YOUR BALD HEAD OFF, YOU FEEBLE MAN!" her commanding voice emanated from down the hall.
But a moment later, the shouts suddenly stopped. Alfred tiptoed up to the doorway and saw Diana staring at the screen, transfixed, as Anna started to sing the famed "Shall We Dance." While she sang, Diana lowered herself on her stomach, her eyes never leaving the movie; and her expression turned from infuriated to awestruck.
Then, the King and Anna started to dance.
Diana's lips parted in wonder. Alfred hid a smile and slipped away to let her enjoy the rest of the movie. While watching the couple dance, Diana could only feel amazed at the sudden turn of events. The King held a strange look of confusion, determination, and wonder for the English teacher; Anna looked uncertain of what the King's intentions were. Together, they were breathless to watch as they twirled around the room.
"Hera," Diana breathed.
I want to do that.
Diana's gaze never left the screen after that, nor did she move until the movie had finished. Alfred cleared his throat and entered with a plate of hot cookies. Diana sat up and frowned, ashamed. "Oh, Alfred, I'm so sorry! I completely lost track of time."
Alfred smiled. "It's quite all right, Your Highness. Would you like one?" He held out the plate and a glass of milk in his other hand.
She smiled back sheepishly. "They smell heavenly. I'd love one." She took the glass and a cookie and bit down into the chewy treat. "Mmm… delicious!" she said, licking her lips. Two more bites finished off the cookie, much to Alfred's amusment. Ten minutes later, three quarters of the plate had disappeared.
Diana sat back on the couch, holding her stomach. "Those were amazing, Alfred," she groaned. "I think I ate one too many, though." She sat up. "Mind if I walk around the mansion for a bit?"
"I believe the phrase is 'mi casa es su casa', Your Highness," Alfred said with a smile.
"Diana."
"Princess Diana."
Diana grinned. "I'll never win, will I?"
"There's always tomorrow," Alfred said. "And I do believe I've said my last cliché for the day." He picked up the plate and the empty glass. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, Your Highness."
"Thanks, Alfred," she replied warmly as she rose to her feet and stretched.
"Don't mention it, Your Highness." Alfred nodded and walked down the hall.
Diana started down the empty hall lined with various artifacts. She didn't realize she'd been humming "Shall We Dance" until she reached the dark, empty ballroom.
I wish I could dance like that, she thought dreamily. It was almost like dancing with Bruce… but we didn't twirl around the floor like that.
After flicking on the lights of the chandelier and continuing to hum, Diana started to twirl around the room with an imaginary partner, her light sundress billowing around her graceful legs. Her eyes slid shut as she spun leisurely around the ballroom.
She didn't see a grumpy Dark Knight storm past the ballroom entrance.
She didn't see that same grumpy Dark Knight halt a few feet after passing the open doorway and backtrack until she was in his sight. She didn't see the now not-so-grumpy Dark Knight stare at her in absolute enthrallment as she danced around the room with an imaginary partner. She didn't see his lips part in wonder at the beauty and grace of her lithe form in movement. She didn't see him step into the room and walk up to her.
Not until she happened to open her eyes did she see him standing only a foot away from her. Immediately she stopped humming and stepped back, startled. Her cheeks blushed rosy red, and she cleared her throat. "Bruce," she said hoarsely. "What are you doing here?"
Oh, Hera. He heard and saw me.
"This is my home, Diana," his deep baritone rumbled in some amusement, vibrating throughout her body.
"Yes, I know," Diana retorted. "But why were you watching me?"
"I thought you would hear me," he lied. "But apparently you were too busy humming."
Diana scowled. "You know I hate being caught off-guard."
"As do I," he said simply. "But what, exactly, were you doing, dancing alone in my ballroom?"
Diana rolled her eyes slightly and folded her arms over her chest. "Here we go again – the whole 'this is my city' lecture, yadda, yadda, yadda."
"Where did you learn that?" Bruce demanded.
"Wally's had me watching 'Seinfeld' reruns."
Bruce frowned. "Figures. So, what, exactly, were you humming and dancing to?"
"It's from a movie in your collection. 'The King and I.'"
"I don't remember it," Bruce said, although he did. His mother had watched it a lot when he was a kid. He didn't remember buying it, though. Alfred must have had something to do with that. "What's it about?"
Now her scowl deepened, and her voice grew sharp. "About a courageous, determined woman who finds herself working for a crass, egotistical, disgusting brute."
Bruce hid his amusement well. "I see. What then? Does the woman murder the brute in his sleep? Or does she join the Amazons and then murder the brute in his sleep?" he asked in a wry tone.
Diana smiled at his quip. "No… they fall in love."
"Hmm."
"And then the brute – the King – dies."
"Of course he does," Bruce remarked dryly. "Were you playing out a scene in the movie?"
Diana reddened again and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes," she admitted. "It's when they were dancing. It was a lovely scene."
"I see. And you want to dance like them?"
She nodded.
"Hard to do it without a partner."
Diana's eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin. "Are you volunteering, Bruce?"
"Not in this outfit," Bruce said.
Diana grinned and moved forward. "Why not?"
"The Batman dancing around the room? Not a very good image for striking fear into the heart of criminals, Diana."
"So you'll change and then dance with me?" she asked, her voice sounding hopeful.
He paused. "Maybe next time."
Diana's face fell, but she tried to hide her disappointment and straightened, every inch the proud Princess of Themyscira. "Fine." She turned away from him towards the window.
"Diana."
Diana almost gasped as a warm hand took hers, and she gazed into Bruce's unmasked eyes. He'd pulled off the cowl and yanked off his gloves, leaving them strewn on the floor. Before she could ask what he was doing, he pulled her to him, one hand resting on her waist, the other clasping her hand, and started to slowly twirl around the room.
"I thought you said…" Diana trailed off.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to stop?" he baited her.
She shook her head and tightened her grip on his hand. "No." Her bare feet felt deliciously cool on the hardwood floor as they stepped lightly around the room. "So I guess this is finishing our dance."
Bruce half-grinned. "I guess it is." He started to twirl her faster around the room. "This is harder without music, you know."
"I'm not humming again, if that's what you're saying."
"Why not? You have a beautiful voice," he said sincerely.
Diana reddened again at his praise and muttered, "All right." She started to hum the song once more in time with their dancing. Bruce smiled and let his hand grip her waist just a little tighter.
"So, if you're the determined, courageous woman," Bruce said, "does that make me the disgusting brute?"
Diana laughed as some locks of hair fell in her face. Her cheeks were light red from the excitement, and her clear blue eyes sparkling in the chandelier's light. Bruce swallowed. He couldn't remember a time she looked more beautiful in his life.
"Maybe," Diana said lightly, grinning at him mischievously. Her eyes danced merrily along with the rest of her figure.
"Then maybe you won't mind if I deviate from the script," Bruce said.
Diana frowned in confusion. "What are you - "
Moving forward, he silenced her voice by covering her lips with his, firmly and tenderly. At first, she froze; but when he deepened the kiss, she responded and moved her hands to his neck, causing him to wrap his other hand around her waist while the first hand slid up her back and locked in her thick hair. They didn't move for a long time.
However, finally, they both had to pull away, but Bruce maintained their closeness by resting his forehead against hers as both panted from lack of air.
"I think I prefer this ending," Diana said breathlessly.
Bruce ran his hand over her cheek, then back to her hair. "This isn't the end, Diana. It's just the beginning."
Moving forward, he kissed her again.
... On a clear understanding that this kind of thing can happen - shall we dance, shall we dance, shall we dance?
- "The King and I"
Hey, I told you it was mushy. Don't blame me for the sappy fluffiness.
Well, fine. So I did write it. But I did warn you! If you like, let me know what you think. :)
- Serena