A/N: I've noticed that BMWW writers tend to categorise the Bruce/Diana dynamic in one of two ways. The first is that Bruce Wayne marries Wonder Woman and it becomes public knowledge. The second is where Bruce and Diana both maintain a separation of their civilian and superhero identities ie Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince on one side, and Batman and Wonder Woman on the other.
Personally, I prefer the second. I'm a bit uncomfortable with the first categorisation because of the possibility of writers unconsciously painting Diana as in love with Bruce but still having that hot-and-heavy tension with Batman that we all know and love. From there, it's really not hard for any character to figure out that Bruce and Batman are one and the same. Therefore, that categorisation is a bit awkward, but that's just my opinion.
In any case, my stories will focus on the second categorisation: The world knows that Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince are together, and that Batman and Wonder Woman are together. What they don't know is that they are one and the same.
This doesn't mean that I don't want to explore what a BMWW fic based on the first category might be like, and that is this chapter. Consider it an AU within an AU.
Enjoy!
Universe 3576: Gotham City
Rebecca Tan had been with Wayne Industries fresh out of college, starting out as a young intern hired directly by Thomas Wayne himself. She'd proven herself time and time again, and was eventually promoted to be his executive assistant. When Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered, she'd been on maternity leave. The years after were tough for her and her colleagues, as the whole company mourned their beloved boss.
It was only when the Waynes' son Bruce returned to reclaim his birthright as the head of Wayne Industries that things began to look up. Because Thomas trusted Rebecca, Bruce trusted her as well, and had no problems reinstating her as his executive assistant. Rebecca, who had seen the young man grow up before he left and treated him like one of her own sons, had no problems with this.
Like many of her colleagues, Rebecca was thrilled when news broke that Bruce Wayne was engaged to Wonder Woman herself, Princess Diana of Themyscira. It was past time Bruce settled down anyway, and while it seemed an unusual match initially, no one could deny that the two were very much in love with one another. Even the most jaded of Rebecca's colleagues agreed: what Bruce and Diana had was true love.
Rebecca considered it one of the highlights of her working life when she received the invitation for their wedding, handed to her personally by the happy couple themselves. The wedding itself was beautiful, not a flashy affair like those held by many of Bruce's peers, but a simple and no less grand event held on the island of Themyscira. To be one of the privileged few invited to the island, and able to be in the same room as the Justice League itself…only the graduation of her sons was considered to be a prouder moment for her personally.
Bruce and Diana settled into married life wonderfully, managing somehow to find time for themselves amidst his busy schedule and her duties as a founding member of the Justice League. Rebecca was truly happy for Bruce, as his marriage became the pivot with which his family life turned for the better. Diana's warm presence was the catalyst in repairing his relationship with his estranged adopted son Jason, and her kind personality mellowed the prickly Damian. Richard and Timothy both adored their adoptive mother, and Diana was usually the one who could get the reclusive Cassandra to smile more. Rebecca was happy, not just for the Wayne family, but also for Alfred, who walked around these days whistling cheerfully, and who seemed to look younger since the marriage.
In all the years Rebecca had served as executive assistant to Bruce Wayne, she had never seen him like this. Rebecca had been one of the rare few who realized that the vapid and shallow playboy persona that Bruce had cultivated throughout his adult life was just that – a cultivation. She knew that underneath it all, the true Bruce was an intensely private person who only showed his true self to the few people he trusted and loved. Rebecca counted herself lucky to be considered one of them.
Over the years, she had learned how to read between the lines of his body language, learned how to discern his moods, knew what to say or do to lift his mood whenever he seemed down. This new mood of his, though, was different…although it wasn't really hard to figure out.
It was kind of cute, really, seeing him like this. Rebecca idly remembered a past conversation with her mother-in-law years ago, when the old lady had seen the same indicators in her son when Rebecca was on an overseas business trip. He had been easily distracted, lost in his own world, didn't feel like eating, answering in either grunts or monosyllabic sentences and generally being glum about everything in general. In short: Wife Withdrawal Symptoms.
It was a week ago, about two months after Bruce and Diana had returned home from their honeymoon, that he had come in to work wearing that face, chauffeured by a smirking Alfred. To Rebecca's surprise, Bruce had come to work that Monday morning accompanied by all five of his children, all of whom looked concerned yet amused about something. Bruce got out the car slowly, robotically. It was as if a light in his eyes had been switched off. His gaze was focused on nothing in particular, and it took a full minute of forceful nudging by Tim before he remembered to get his briefcase from his son. Tim shook his head, and shared an exasperated look with Dick. Seeing that Bruce had still not made a move, Damian rolled his eyes and started to push his father towards the main entrance, which was comically hard given the fact that Bruce was quite sturdy and Damian (despite being very fit for his age) was still only eleven.
Jason was a bit more direct than his brothers, and he clearly relished the chance to whap their father upside the head to get his attention. His grin grew wider when Bruce did not respond, the older manstill staring ahead aimlessly, and Jason rubbed his hands gleefully, taking another step towards Bruce.
Cassandra then did to her brother what he did to their father. She ignored his yelp of pain and accompanying scowl, and took Bruce by his hand, slowly leading him through the revolving doors of the entrance, followed by Dick and the others. Rebecca, who had observed the whole scene, raised an eyebrow at the still-smirking Alfred. "Is there something I should know, Alfred?"
"You'll have to forgive Master Bruce; admittedly he is a bit out of sorts at present."
"Is he alright?" asked a concerned Rebecca.
"Yes, he's just still in a bit of a shock. Mrs Wayne was called up on a sudden Justice League mission over the weekend. There seems to be a spot of trouble on the planet Rann, and she was asked to assist as a diplomatic mediator, accompanied by Black Canary and Martian Manhunter. The League has informed us that the mission will likely take a few weeks, maybe even a month," replied Alfred. "To say that he misses her would be an understatement," he added with a chuckle.
"Bruce, seriously, snap out of it man! That's the fifth straight wall you've walked into this morning alone!"
It was indeed an understatement, and Bruce missed his wife desperately. Nothing he did seemed to make things any better; in fact, every single thing he did seemed to remind him of his beloved Diana. He went about his daily business aimlessly, only shaking himself out of his funk during patrols and the occasional League mission. But once the last crook/villain was trussed up, it was back to the gloomy model that his whole family grudgingly endured (except for Alfred, who was enjoying this greatly).
For the first few days, there was no mistaking it: Bruce moped around. Everything that gave him joy or at least a sense of purpose did nothing to lift his spirits. Food held no taste for him, he might as well have just blended everything Alfred put in front of him into a shake and swallow it. Some days, he felt like doing so. Alfred made him pizza, and it tasted like paste. Life just wasn't the same without Diana there beside him.
"This is ridiculous, Alfred," he remarked to Alfred one evening over dinner as the butler sat beside him, sipping a cup of tea. "It's only been a week. I was a bachelor for years. Did just fine on my own. Why is this so hard now?"
Alfred said nothing, but continued to smirk over his cup of tea.
Bruce rolled out of bed one morning, still in a glum mood. He looked at the alarm clock and sighed. It was 7am. 9 days, 12 hours, 40 minutes and 37 seconds since she had left for Rann.
Oh yes. He knew exactly how long he'd been away from her. The temptation to suit up, hop on a Javelin, haul ass to Rann and find and kiss his wife soundly was there.
Bruce had to admit that he was thankful for the quiet patrol the night before. He and Tim had stopped one mugging, one carjacking and a rape attempt before they had decided to call it a night. Bruce had been looking forward to the few more hours of sleep, in the hopes that it would keep his mind off Diana. No such luck.
He sighed again, and shook his head. No point worrying about it. He had an important lunch meeting at one of the city's major banks later, so he had to have his head in the game. Bruce dressed quickly before heading out the door to where Alfred was waiting in the car. As he walked out, he noticed Tim and Damian in the kitchen eyeing him suspiciously over their breakfast.
"What?" he asked.
"We don't have to send you to work again while you're bumbling around missing Diana, right, Father?" asked Damian plainly. It hadn't taken long for Diana to work her charms on the young Robin, and Damian was now a much more relaxed and informal boy who was a lot more comfortable around his family. "Because that got really tiring," he added pointedly.
Tim nodded over his cornflakes, grinning. Tim and Damian getting along was an uncommon sight back in the day, much less them agreeing on something. Again, Diana's presence in their lives, even before the couple had married and were still dating, had clearly affected the Wayne family positively. Bruce didn't really care to dwell on it though, since he was still under the double-whammy of lack of sleep and missing Diana.
So he glared half-heartedly at his boys and strode out the door, ignoring their snickers.
One advantage of cultivating a playboy persona was that people were so used to the idea that Bruce did what he wanted; consequently, this meant that he really could do what he wanted on occasion. And on this occasion, all he wanted at the moment was a quiet ride by himself to the Gotham financial district so he could be morose by himself.
Alfred had dropped him off at the city outskirts, away from any curious busybodies. From there, Bruce had strolled to the nearest bus stop for the bus to Wayne Enterprises. His disguise was not much: a simple pair of shades and a slight change in his hairstyle, just enough to avoid people from immediately recognizing him. As he waited by the stop, he casually glanced at the headlines on the newspaper that the man beside him was reading.
A sudden screeching of tyres cut through the morning quiet, causing the few people standing at the stop to look up. A van pulled up to a noisy halt in front of Bruce, and a man in a balaclava got out the passenger door, brandishing his revolver straight in Bruce's face.
"Bruce Wayne," he smirked arrogantly. "Hands up. Get in."
"If I do that, I'll have to leave my expensive suitcase with the large check I was going to donate to the cancer research centre," Bruce challenged back.
"Smart-ass, aren't you?" The would-be kidnapper pointed his weapon at the man who had been reading the newspaper and released the safety on the weapon. "Get in, or I shoot him."
Bruce did as the kidnapper ordered, and was bundled unceremoniously into the van, his head covered in a hood.
17 turns in total, and a stretch of long road between the 15th and 16th turns that progressively got bumpier with each passing minute. A ship's foghorn sounded in the distance. The grinding of metal against metal. The acrid smell of chemicals – paint being the strongest. The smell of bleach was the next strongest, and all the while, the faint smell of the sea wafted in amongst them.
He was headed towards the docks, near the shipyards.
The road got progressively rougher – they were no longer on tarmac. The smell of the chemicals was harsher now, hinting of poor quality materials. Not the Wayne Industries shipyards then, but somewhere close by. A chorus of angry barking followed the most recent left turn; the van had inadvertently crossed into the territory of stray dogs. The packs normally gathered by the junkyards. There was only one junkyard by the docks, the others mainly at the industrial factories on the other side of Gotham.
Bruce kept quiet as he planned his next move. Even through the hood, he heard all that the kidnappers were saying.
"Wayne's quiet," remarked the driver, who seemed to be a young kid. Nervous, unsure of himself. Looked to the other ones for guidance. Inexperienced then; he was new to this.
"He's just scared shitless. Useless playboy coward like him; I wouldn't be surprised if he crapped himself. How the hell he scored a hottie like Wonder Woman I'll never know." The kidnapper who had pointed the gun at him. Arrogant, and likely overestimated his own abilities. Probably a criminal who managed to get lucky on a few occasions. Too bad he'd bitten off more than he could chew.
There was a third one, a quiet one. The only sound coming off him was steady, calm breathing, and the occasional shifting of a heavy weapon leaning from one shoulder to another. Chances were good that it was a rifle, and chances were good that he knew how to use it. He was likely a professional then, and therefore the most dangerous out of the lot. He would have to be subdued first.
It had been about 20 minutes since he'd been kidnapped. The moment he'd been bound and pushed ungraciously into the van, he'd quietly activated the tracker built into his cufflinks, triggering the silent alarm that would be transmitted to his Batman Inc. agents. They would be on their way, homing in on his location. It was possible too that some of the witnesses might have notified GCPD.
So Bruce kept quiet under the hood they had covered his head with, choosing to let the matter play out and let them see him as the cowardly useless playboy. No need to tell the world he was Batman, after all.
He felt the vehicle grind to a noisy halt. The noisy one got out, complaining all the while as he yanked Bruce out roughly. Bruce was still hooded but his training to become Batman had more than prepared him for situations like these. While the hood covered his face, it was made out of quite a thin fabric. This, coupled with the bright sunlight streaming in from outside, meant that Bruce could roughly make out where they were bringing him. He allowed himself a small grin. For a bunch that was capable of some horrifying crimes, it was somewhat reassuring to note that the majority of Gotham's crooks could be quite dumb.
The noisy one and the kid pushed Bruce toward a dilapidated warehouse, one that had been abandoned for a long time, by the looks of it. The quiet one followed behind them, keeping a close eye for any signs of trouble. Once inside, Bruce was shoved onto a chair and secured, before the hood was removed.
"All right, let's get this over with," he said, bored. "What exactly do you guys want?"
The loud crook held up what seemed like a burner phone. "Your money, Brucie, plain and simple. Got this phone from someone who works in Luthor's company. Paid a pretty penny for it, but hey, your money'll more than make up for it. Just key in your account number and this neat little gadget will do the rest of the work."
Bruce only raised an eyebrow in reply. If he was indeed telling the truth, then this crook was even stupider than he'd given him credit for. Assuming the burner phone worked, then any money transferred from Bruce's account would eventually make its way to Luthor and not him. This idiot actually managed to convince the other two to be part of his scheme?
Bruce weighed his options. Sure, he could wait for the Batman Inc agents, but he really didn't feel like sitting down and waiting for them. Besides, the noisy crook was annoying him to no end; teaching him a lesson might put him in a good mood, at least for the rest of the day. His hands were cuffed around the back of the chair, but were not secured to the chair itself. If he managed to get his hands free (which really was a piece of cake), he could take them out easily.
This was going to happen fast. The quiet gunman was the most immediate threat. His rifle was one of the latest carbine models, and he held it like he knew how to use it. Put distance between both of them immediately. The noisy crook was the next most dangerous, but the revolver was a notoriously slow weapon, and its owner was a typical thug-for-hire. As long as he kept moving, he would be able to take him out easily. Which left the kid; the more Bruce observed him, the more confident he was that the kid was a total amateur.
Decision was made. Bruce knew exactly what to do.
So when he sniggered at the noisy crook and refused to do what he asked, Bruce was more than ready for the loudmouth's retaliation. He bolted to the side, the bullet just barely missing him. He went straight for the crook, going in low, catching him in the ankles with a powerful sweep that knocked the crook flat on his ass. Bruce glanced up. The quiet crook had not moved, smirking at the sight before him, but the kid was fumbling for his own weapon.
Bruce immediately sprinted for the kid, bringing him down in a brutal shoulder tackle that he learnt from Diana during one of their sparring sessions. He followed up with another Themysciran fighting technique, an aggressive grappling manoeuvre that allowed him to disarm the boy and dislocate his shoulder. As the boy screamed in pain, Bruce allowed himself a small grin. Diana would be proud.
Loudmouth had gotten back up on his feet, and he roared in anger as he aimed his weapon at Bruce again. Bruce was ready, weaving from cover to cover towards his opponent until Loudmouth had used up all six bullets. Bruce made his move, this time with a jumping knee that smashed into Loudmouth's nose. He followed that up with one of Diana's favourite combos, a three-jab succession followed by a left hook and a right uppercut that lifted Loudmouth clear off the ground. When the latter got up, he was missing a couple of teeth.
"How…the…hell?" asked the shocked crook. Bruce only kept quiet, which only angered his opponent even more.
"You're just a playboy!" Loudmouth screamed as he threw blind punch after blind punch at Bruce. "A rich, useless boy toy! All you do is throw money into your stupid charity projects and sleep around with supermodels!"
Bruce felt the need to correct him. "Actually, I'm happily married now, so that last part doesn't really apply anymore," he quipped as he dodged every single punch.
"Shut up! You're supposed to be a fucking useless loser! Why the hell do you know how to fight?!"
Time to end this. He dodged the last punch and replied with his own in Loudmouth's solar plexus, before striking with another quick uppercut. He finished off with a backwards pivot that allowed him to drive his elbow into the crook's nose, sending him flying. He grunted with satisfaction at the results. A combo that he and Diana developed over time; he'd have to tell Diana just how effective it was.
"How…?"
Bruce walked up to Loudmouth. "I'm married to Wonder Woman. The Princess of the Amazons; the princess of a race of proud warrior women. Undoubtedly one of the best melee fighters on the planet, if not the finest. Did you think I wouldn't pick up some self-defense tips from her?"
He punched out Loudmouth, before turning to face the quiet one. The latter clapped softly, the cruel smirk on his face growing wider by the second. "Not bad, Mr Wayne."
"You weren't with him, were you?"
"Not really," said Quiet as he held up a strange device. "This baby here would have siphoned your funds from his burner phone into my account. You saved me the trouble of beating him senseless though; he was getting on my nerves. Now, give me your money."
"If I say no?"
"Last I checked, I'm the one with the gun, and I assure you that unlike him, I know how to use it. You have skills, but you can't dodge all the bullets. Need I remind you as well that you don't really have anyone coming here to rescue you?"
All of a sudden, there was an almighty crash as half the roof caved in. Bruce and Quiet only managed to get out of the way. The reactions on both their faces couldn't have been any more different. While Bruce grinned at the newcomer, the crook's expression was that of terrified shock.
Wonder Woman floated down, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword, the other gripping her lasso. Sunlight glinted off her armour and tiara, making for a very impressive entrance. "Really? Are you sure about that?" she asked the crook.
There was a time when Alfred might have been perturbed by the sound of the doors slamming open, by running feet in the Manor. That time, however, was when it was just him and Bruce, back when the younger man had been starting out as the Dark Knight. Over time, with the adoption of the boys and Cassandra, followed by Diana joining the family, the Manor had become a brighter, livelier and noisier household, and Alfred was happier for it.
So it stood to reason that Alfred didn't bat an eyelid that afternoon when Diana all but kicked open the kitchen backdoor carrying Bruce on her shoulder. He only raised an eyebrow from where he was at the kitchen counter, wiping it down. "Mrs Wayne. Welcome home!"
If Alfred noticed the fact that Bruce was a bit worse for the wear, sporting minor cuts and abrasions from being bound up by the burglars earlier, he chose not to bring it up. He was a bit amused though, seeing the predatory way the Manor's mistress was eyeing her husband. It had been 9 days after all.
"Alfred," she said, "please cancel all of Bruce's remaining appointments for the day…as well as for tomorrow. He will be otherwise…occupied."
Alfred ignored the frantic shaking of Bruce's head and the panicked look in his eyes. "Very good, Mrs Wayne. Shall I inform Master Timothy and Master Damian that they will be needing their noise-cancelling headphones tonight too?"
"That would be lovely, Alfred, thank you. Why don't you take the rest of the day off as well?"
"Dear me, that would be much appreciated, Mrs Wayne! It has been a while since I've had some time to myself. I will leave the two of you to it then. A request please: Do take care not to break Master Bruce while I'm away."
"Of course, Alfred. I'll return him to you in one piece."
Diana and Alfred smiled and nodded cordially at each other, before heading off in different directions. Alfred headed towards the front door. Just before he left, he turned behind to see Diana climbing up the stairs, Bruce still on her shoulder. To Alfred's amazement, Bruce was pleading at him silently with puppy-dog eyes, something he had not used since he was a boy, begging the older man to save him. Alfred snickered quietly and only waved at Bruce as he closed the door behind him, his eyes twinkling.
Epilogue
After several hours of intense physical activity which included long and protracted calling out of names, pet names and petitions to several deities, Diana finally rolled off of Bruce, naked, sweaty and thoroughly spent. And happy. So, so happy. "No more than eight-point-eight, I make that," she teased. "You're out of practice already, Bruce."
"Hrrggh."
"I think I've been away on off-world missions for too long, I've missed you too much. 9 days! It's too long to be apart from you, darling! I'll ask J'onn if he can put me in for League missions closer to home, or maybe he can schedule us on more missions together," she said, before completely changing topics. "We should visit Mother one of these days!"
"Mmmngrh."
"Yes, I suppose we could take a breather for a while. Two minutes, darling, and then back to work."
There was no sound from her husband for a while, before Diana heard a garbled mumbling that may have been a whimper begging for mercy.
