Disclaimer: I do not own DC or any of its characters

A/N- Sorry it took so long me and my beta reader have been having trouble getting emails back and forth so thats why there was such a long delay hopefully that wont be the case in the future. Big thanks to MGD as always for helping me out with this and I hope everyone enjoys the chapter. I wanted a more unique look on Alfred and have him be a little more than your average butler drawing inspiration from the recent movies and from Frank Miller and Jim Lees interpertation so I hope everyone enjoys. As always any questions, comments, and constructive criticism are more than welcome. Remember please review!

Chapter 2: Swordplay Before Lunch

Normally, she would have taken a Javelin instead of flying, but Superman was so adamant against her seeing Bruce that he invoked the rule that no League equipment be used for personal reasons. So, Diana soared through the air at a moderate pace not wanting to upset her outfit too much before she reached Wayne Manor. Today, he had promised her lunch followed by a tour of his home, which she had only caught occasional glimpses of on television shows about the rich and famous.

While Superman was entitled to his opinion, she still felt incredibly insulted that he would question her judgment and choice of friends, even Batman approved. Perhaps that was an overstatement, but he gave her permission to be in Gotham as long as she notified him and didn't interfere with his work. That was as close to approval as anyone got from Batman. On the other hand, Superman continued to press the issue. Diana was incredibly fed up with him and his constant nagging. She just hoped her frustrations did not surface during lunch since she had such high hopes for a pleasant afternoon.

Seeing the large structure of Wayne Manor, she pushed her frustration aside and focused on her excitement of seeing Bruce and his dear friend Alfred. Circling overhead, she marveled at the gigantic size of the estate and its meticulously groomed lawn and gardens. Landing on the front steps, she took a minute to revel in the beautiful architecture of Bruce's home.

(From Diana's Perspective)

Alfred. I finally get to meet the famed Alfred that I've had heard so much about. Bruce always spoke of him like a son spoke of a father. His influence must be immense in Bruce's life.

Stepping up to knock on the door, I almost stumbled as the door opened. Standing before me was a thin but athletic man, who was somewhere near the age of fifty with a short hair cut and a pencil thin mustache. It seemed that his very being exuded warmth, comfort, formality, and paternity. Somehow, I could instantly tell that this was Bruce's Alfred.

"Good afternoon, Princess Diana. It is pleasure, madam. Please come in," Alfred said as he opened the door wide motioning me into the house.

"Thank you," I replied taking a step inside the large entry.

"Your highness, I hope that I am not too forward in saying that you are by far the most lovely woman to grace this household over the years," Alfred closed the door behind us. I felt a strange rush warm my cheeks.

Stepping inside the corridor, the interior decoration was pleasing to the eye and amusing as well. Beautiful paintings, marked by the same names that I had seen in museums, hung above suits of medieval armor with armaments, which rested in their hands, and shields, which were placed by their legs. I smiled. Bruce was obviously making an attempt to assert his masculinity from the moment anyone stepped in the door.

Noticing my amused expression, Alfred said, "Yes, the entry way does appear to be decorated in the Neanderthal style, but it also serves to lull visitors into a false impression of Master Bruce increasing his advantage in social and business matters. It is like leading a lamb to the slaughter as they say."

I chuckled at this piece of information and replied, "You do realize that you gave away any advantage for him with that one statement."

As Alfred started down the hall with me in tow, I noticed the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Alfred responded with a slight undertone of humor, "O heavens, you are right, your Highness. It must have slipped my mind. Forgive me. I must be getting up in the years."

Smirking at this, I followed Alfred down the hall passing open rooms. At first, nothing caught my eyes as we passed, but then I began to notice an oriental theme coming into play the further we traveled into the manor. Suits of medieval armor were replaced with the armor of the Japanese Samurai. Slowing to study them, I could tell that they were from an older era and some even showed signs of damage endured in the past.

Noticing her slow progression, Alfred explained, "Master Bruce is very fond of Japanese history. In his travels, the Japanese Samurai culture and the code of Bushido always fascinated him. All of these suits of armor are from descendants of Samurai."

"There aren't any swords attached to any of the suits. Why is that?" I asked puzzled at the empty waistbands.

Alfred graced me with a small smile and responded with his own question, "How familiar are you with feudal Japanese culture, your Highness?"

Unaccustomed with his formality, I smiled curtly, "Please, Alfred, it's just Diana. I'm slightly embarrassed that I only know the very basics. I haven't had a chance to read up on the Samurai."

Smiling as at her curt response, Alfred replied, "Of course, my apologies, Miss Diana. In feudal Japan, the land was ruled by the daimyo, who answered only to the emperor. The daimyo's warriors were the Samurai, who followed a code called Bushido. In Bushido, the Samurai's sword was seen as his soul." Gesturing towards the suits, he continued, "The reason why you see no swords is because Master Bruce thought it would be a great dishonor to purchase the swords with the armor taking the souls of the ancestors away from their families."

Surprised by Bruce's respect for the code of the Samurai, I continued to follow Alfred down the hall quiet with my thoughts until we came to a set of closed doors. Turning to me, Alfred stated, "Unfortunately, your early arrival seems to have caught Master Bruce off guard. He is still practicing. I must warn you, Miss Diana, that what you're about to see may be a bit surprising. Please don't hold it against Master Bruce."

With that statement, Alfred knocked four times rapidly and waited until Bruce told us to enter. When the doors were opened, I was introduced to one of the most unusual sights of my life. Inside the dojo, Bruce held a Japanese katana swinging it around with the worst technique I have ever experienced. He would be among the first to fall on the battlefield. Seeing me, Bruce stopped and turned with a big smile on his face to address me, "Diana, you're early! I wasn't quite done practicing yet."

I heard a giggle escape my lips at this statement. I couldn't resist teasing him, "What exactly are you practicing? Cutting off your own foot? Bruce, I hate to be so blunt, but your technique looked just horrid."

With a sly grin on his face, Bruce shot right back, "I wasn't aware that you were familiar with oriental sword skill, Diana. Yet, I'm not a master. That title belongs to Alfred."

"I am not familiar with the style, but I can still tell bad technique from mastery. Alfred is a master?" I said looking at a nonchalant Alfred.

"Yes, Alfred is very talented in the art. In fact, I bet that he would be a challenge even for the likes of you without your powers," Bruce smirked.

Arching an eyebrow at his challenge, I responded doubtfully, "While I am sure that Alfred is exceptional, I mean no offense to Alfred, but I think that my training as an Amazon will prove superior in skill."

"While I am just a mere mortal, your Highness. Master Bruce is not mistaken. I do believe that I would prove to be more than a match for you with all due respects," Alfred coolly responded, "Though, I prefer not to engage in acts of aggression with guests."

Spinning toward Alfred, I was shocked at his rebuttal. I was momentarily speechless. Unfortunately, my mouth fell open as I tried to find a response to Alfred's outlandish claims. Before I recomposed myself, Bruce chimed in, "Alfred, if you take her down a notch, I promise that I will go grocery shopping with you and even push the cart through the store."

Alfred lost some of his indifference and raised an eyebrow in interest. He responded sarcastically with an underlining of mirth, "Master Bruce in a grocery store, I do believe that such a sight would enable me to die knowing that I lived a complete life."

Hearing this exchange, I could feel my blood begin to boil. They spoke like I was guaranteed to lose, even worse they conversed as if I wasn't standing right there. My voice rose unconsciously. I yelled at the two men, "That is it! If you think that you are superior, then I suggest that you prepare to prove it! I swear not to use my powers. After you lose, I expect a full apology from both of you . . . pompous men."

I turned to the wall surveying the available weapons. Both men had their eyes focused on my back. I ignored their looks and prepared to show them just how much they underestimated the Amazon warrior.

Alfred watched noting her determination. Facing Bruce, he asked, "Master Bruce, with your permission." After Bruce nodded, Alfred walked over and lifted a wooden Bokken off the stand.

As he picked up the wooden sword, I protested sharply, "Amazons do not use practice weapons. Bear steel or admit defeat."

Alfred looked at her in a bit of disbelief and exclaimed, "You will have to forgive me, your Highness. While I respect your traditions, I will not permit bloodshed in this household."

Smiling smugly, I replied, "Then, I guess you admit defeat, and I now demand your apology."

"Nonsense. Alfred, you know that you can spar without causing any injury to Diana. Plus I think this will make it a fairer fight," Interrupted Bruce's voice from the door. With that statement, Bruce threw her a Grecian long sword.

Catching it in midair, I instantly felt the incredible balance and great age of the sword. I was surprised by the gesture and could not recall Bruce leaving the room to retrieve it. Redirecting my focus on Alfred, I felt my lips twist into a predatory smirk as I watched Alfred prepare to duel by taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

He grabbed a sword off of its stand and unsheathed it. Standing opposite of me in a relaxed manner, Alfred held his sword at his side. He pleaded, "Your highness, this is not necessary. You came here to enjoy a nice lunch, not melee combat."

Of course, he was pleading. He had backed himself into a corner, and I called his bluff. I wouldn't be stepping down until the debate was settled. I responded probably a bit smugly, "Sorry, Alfred. On Themyscira, this is how we warm up before our meals. I'll try to make it as quick as possible."

With that statement, I released a war cry and launched forward hoping to propel the blade against Alfred before he could move. What happened next, I was not prepared for at all. In one quick move, Alfred brought his sword point up hitting the underside of my blade sending it over his head. While his sword made an impressive parry, his lower body had him spinning to the left using his foot to trip me up. I went sailing to the floor.

I was stunned. How could the movements of an old man, at least a man who looked older and therefore slower, take down an Amazon? I barely managed to throw my body into a forward roll to keep from sprawling on the floor like a novice. Spinning into a defensive stance, I expected Alfred to be on top of me but saw him standing casually in the original stance position.

With a smile, he asked, "Are you sure you wish to continue, your Highness? I would never forgive myself if you had to sit down for lunch with a bruise on your face."

How dare he say such a thing! It fueled my anger, and I foolishly charged forward again. However, this time with a little more caution I sent my sword into a standard offensive maneuver with incredible precision. Despite my mastery of Amazonian sword play, Alfred somehow parried each one of my strikes.

I felt my frustration grow as this simple butler demonstrated that he had no problem defending against my strikes. I pressed further lunging and darting to and fro looking for an opening. All the while, Alfred kept in step with each move. While my movements grew faster and jerkier, his remained calm and collected. He almost seemed to flow as if he was dancing.

Suddenly, Alfred twirled to the side with his sword darting towards me for the first time. Seeing his maneuver, I barely had time to block his swing. By the Gods! The man moved as quickly as a serpent. My chest heaved heavily as my breaths were accelerated. I finally took a minute to really study my opponent seriously.

Alfred was in his late forties or early fifties and was surprisingly fit for his age. Other than that, he did not distinguishing characteristics. He had a receding hairline and a thin mustache and stood about 5'11. There was no clear physical advantage that he possessed over me; yet, he stood as if he were easily the superior completely calm and unfazed before me.

Closely studying his stance, I was surprised. The casual look of his stance was deceiving in itself. Instead, he carefully balanced his weight on the balls of his feet and held the sword at an angle so that it could be put into both hands swiftly. His feet were slightly offset ready to move in any direction at the slightest notice. Oh Hera! I must be a fool. His nonchalant stance was actually a defensive one that completely threw me off guard.

Shaking my head, I approached with more caution and respect the next time. Unfortunately, that chance was taken away when Alfred sprang towards me without warning. I immediately went on the defensive thrown off by his attack. Swords spun and darted back and forth as Alfred seemed to strike at me from all sides.

Alfred was essentially dancing around me; his body flowed from one stance to another seamlessly. Reading his movements was virtually impossible since this style of swordsmanship had never been seen on Themyscira. I learned to read the emotions of the face and watch for slight surges in motion. Alfred displayed neither of these signs, instead he used one steady pace of motion that never slowed or sped up. There were literally no outward signs of his next move, and only my quick reflexes kept me from being bested.

Hera! The way that he struck, jumped, spun, wielded a sword, and danced around me made him seem like a viper, grasshopper, and ballroom dancer all rolled into one. His motions became more complex every second. I was definitely in trouble. My pride got me into this position, and I didn't think that I was going to escape from it gracefully.

Suddenly, with an unexpected burst of speed, Alfred's sword flew through the air with the point hitting the cross section of my sword forcing it near the ground. Taking advantage of his blades unique structure, Alfred stepped out and slid his left hand down the dull side of his blade holding my sword in position. Simultaneously, he snapped his right hand up moving the hilt towards my head stopping within centimeters of it. The razor sharp edge of the base of the blade almost kissed my neck. I was at his mercy.

I was beaten. My sword was trapped, and his blade was at my neck. An old mortal man bested me. Maybe, there is more to Man's World than what the Amazon believed. I stood stunned reassessing my knowledge. Not since my first encounter with Batman had I been beaten this badly. Alfred, my best friend's butler, had defeated me, a proven Amazon warrior, in under a minute.

Bruce, who watched in silence, began to clap saying, "Well, I see that you are still as good as ever, Alfred. I suppose that I will have to go grocery shopping with you."

Acknowledging Bruce's words, Alfred stepped back untangling their swords. Alfred saluted with his fist over his heart in an ancient warrior's salute and commented, "This has been a great honor, your Highness. It is one that I will not forget for a long time."

Finally, I found my voice, "How… it can't be… Alfred, how do you fight with such grace and speed… are you a meta?"

Putting his sword back on its stand, Alfred retrieved his coat. He chuckled, "No, I do not have powers. I believe that Master Bruce can give a satisfactory explaination while I prepare lunch. Please, excuse me." With that, he strode out the door and down the hall.

Turning to Bruce, I waited for his answer impatiently as he walked over to me with a smirk on his face. Slowly, his hand came and gently untangled my fingers from the sword's hilt. He gingerly took the blade into his hands, "Let's put this back and head to lunch. I'll explain while we walk."

Following him into the hall, I let him lead the way. After reaching the display stand, he explained, "I spent my youth traveling the world. Alfred accompanied me as my guardian and valet but also secretly as my bodyguard. Most people don't know that Alfred was in the British SAS in his youth. He is, in fact, well-trained in hand to hand combat along with firearms and other military techniques. While I traveled the world taking in different cultures, he picked up different martial arts techniques. We spent a long time in Japan and both of us took a real interest in Samurai. We decided to try our hands at learning their sword art. As you saw, I am absolutely atrocious. Let me tell you being paired against ten year olds and losing is not fun, but Alfred became a master swordsman."

They stood before a glass case holding a beautiful suit of ancient Amazonian armor with an empty scabbard. "I actually bought this sword and armor a long time before we met. I'm not sure who it belonged to, but I could tell it was an Amazon's," Bruce finished with a lecherous grin, "I think the chest piece was a bit of a giveaway though."

I couldn't help myself from returning the grin when I leaned closer to inspect the identification symbols on the armor. Bruce always had a way of inputting some depravity and humor into most situations. Scrutinizing the owner's symbol on the breastplate, I was surprised to recognize it. If I wasn't mistaken, this was one of Nena's suits that she left behind when our people fled to isle of Themyscira before my birth.

After telling Bruce this, he astounded me with his offer, "Diana, you should take this suit with you when you go back to Themyscira. It doesn't feel right knowing that I have someone else's property without compensating them."

The statement almost brought tears to my eyes. I always found it endearing when he did something so thoughtless without a second thought. The armor must have cost him millions of dollars; yet, he was willing to give it back to my sister for nothing simply because it was rightfully hers.

"Now, how about some lunch. If you think Alfred is good with a sword, you should see him with a kitchen spoon," Bruce joked as he led me to the kitchen.

"Don't worry," he said putting an arm around my shoulder, "Alfred may have come off a bit snobbish, but he likes to have fun with all of my close friends." He gave a reassuring squeeze and continued down the hall with his arm still around my shoulder.

Leaning into him, I found his hold reassuring and comforting. I was glad for it considering that I owed Alfred an apology.