Criminology by Titangirl797
I DO NOT own Batman, Wonder Woman, Wildcat, Green Lantern, the Watchtower, or Superman. DC Comics currently has that right.
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"And then she dropped him, just like that."
A burst of raucous laughter followed that statement, betraying obvious amusement and hilarity. It wasn't every night you heard tales about Wonder Woman, the resident Amazonian Princess. And no one dare tell them in her presence either.
Wildcat slapped his knee, enjoying the moment with his Justice League friends aboard the Watchtower. The JSA Headquarters could get a little stuffy, what with the large number of heroes, especially teenage heroes, who hung out under that roof.
The Green Lantern telling the story cracked a smile, amused by the look on Superman's face as he tried to understand the humor in the story.
Even Kyle Rayner had to admit that a confused Kryptonian was oddly interesting, even if said confused Kryptonian could tear both of your legs off.
Just as Wildcat's laughter quieted, the doors to the common area of the Watchtower slid open.
It was Diana, Princess of Themyscira, and she was arguing rather loudly with her compatriot, the ever elusive Dark Knight. The look she was currently giving him glared holes through his cool and calm demeanor, reducing him to a frustrated narrowing of the eyes and a perpetual frown.
The others in the room hushed their laughter, hoping that the heir apparent hadn't heard anything she hadn't liked.
They need not have worried. All of her attention was fixed on the man who would not give in: Batman.
"It's just that you don't fight criminals, Bruce! You fight psychopaths." Wonder Woman seemed to be trying to make a point – a point that Batman just brushed off.
"It must be terrible, Diana – using your vast powers to fight off the Cheetah and Silver Swan. Wow, it almost makes you wonder how an ordinary man can fare against the Joker and Killer Croc."
Batman spoke in a deadpan voice, his face betraying nothing. He was frustrated by the woman to his left, but continued on his way, sitting himself down next to Clark.
Suddenly, all three heroes that had previously claimed occupancy for the room had stood, citing different reasons why they had to be somewhere else at exactly that moment.
Batman caught a glimpse of Superman's face – he was trying to leave them alone again. Bruce shook his head. He knew quite well that there was a mutual attraction between Diana and him, but dating another hero was a big no in his book – been there, done that. Superman suffered from the delusion that if he left Wonder Woman and Batman together for long enough, they would spontaneously fall for each other and begin making out all over the Watchtower.
Well, damn it to hell. He wasn't one for conformity anyway (everyone knew what Kyle and Donna Troy did all over the Tower…).
Diana felt her hopes fall as Batman turned his grim face to her. He was going to make an excuse, a reason to leave her company. He did this often, when it was just the two of them – it really hit a girl hard in her self-esteem. She knew that even though she had literally millions of men drooling after her, the only one that held any interest for her was the Caped Crusader. He was an enigma, a puzzle. She had to figure out why one man – a normal, human, mortal man – could make her insides feel like jelly and her heart leap so high that she felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.
"Bruce," Diana spluttered, cutting off the inevitable excuse. He seemed to quirk an eyebrow, but she couldn't tell. It was the damned cowl – it always got in her way.
"Yes?" Batman asked, feeling strangely wary. It was just Diana, he told himself. But it wasn't just Diana. It was something more. She seemed hesitant and nervous – two qualities that he would never use to describe the Amazon warrior.
"What is the definition of a psychopath?" She was referring to the earlier conversation…but, Batman knew she knew the technical definition. Being a diplomat forced her to know things – definitions, speeches, popular songs, anything. Why was she asking?
Before he's even registered it, he was answering the princess, reciting from memory, his eyes fixed on her raven black hair, which curled slightly at the ends. He remembered the textbook definition. Was it the ending she wanted? But, he was already narrating.
"A psychopath is defined by an uninhibited gratification in criminal, sexual, or aggressive impulses and the inability to learn from past mis – oomf!"
His recitation was cut off as she quickly pressed her lips to his. He wanted to draw breath, but her lips were incredibly firm. She tasted like honey and some form of fruit.
His hand was on the small of her back before he knew it, and he was breathing in her scent, which was intoxicating. Deep, in the far recesses of his highly praised analytical mind, he felt a small pull, which was growing more forceful the longer he kissed Diana. His responsibility was kicking in, forcing him to break the kiss and look questioningly into her eyes. He tried not to betray any emotion – he couldn't do this. Not again.
She smiled playfully at him and pointed behind him at the monitor screen – they had one in every room, just in case.
"Trouble," she said before turning away from him and exiting the room, leaving only her scent and his hidden longing.
It was only several moments before he followed her out, face composed, as if nothing had ever happened. And, in the grand scheme of things, maybe nothing had.