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Five Dates

Meeting the Mother

Part 2

The dinner was turning into a major disaster. Diana had no idea whether she wanted the earth to swallow her up or smack her mother's head along with Bruce's. In appearances, everything was going fine: the entrée and main course were delicious, as expected from her mother's cook, and the drinks, while nonalcoholic, pretty good. The conversation was an entirely different matter. For instance:

"It must be a frightening perspective to take over the head of such a huge company."

"The board of directors has done a good job keep business afloat so far."

"Well I hope your arrival won't tip the balance in a bad way…you know, when new directors arrive, investors tend to hesitate, especially when so young and with no experience whatsoever…"

Or:

"It seems a bit of a shame that you won't allow other fighting styles into your school. Sword fighting is a good tradition given your roots, but wouldn't Asian martial arts be an advantage on protection details? I'm not a specialist, but I'm pretty sure your employee, Artemis, could learn from being less aggressive."

"Your point is?"

"In another few years, I will be able to beat her easily. A good fighter requires discipline and creativity. People who can't adapt or evolve can progress…and your techniques are literally inspired from the Antiquities."

And so on and forth. Veiled backhand compliments and clashes of opinions weren't supposed to be the main dish, and yet.

"You are just a child," Hippolyta burst angrily. "You have no idea what you are talking about!"

"It doesn't mean I am wrong," Bruce replied sarcastically.

They have been arguing about the trustworthiness of books versus the internet.

"Alright, I've had enough!" Diana snapped and stood from the table. "You two are acting like bickering children. Can you behave like you are actually eighteen and thirty-eight respectively?"

Both glared at her; Bruce for being reminded he was actually young, and Hippolyta for being called on her attitude.

"Is there no safe subject you can approach without biting each other's head?" she went on. "I don't know, like, movies?"

The two exchanged a glance. Bruce reluctantly started:

"I always thought Stanley Kubrick had the weirdest ideas when it came to producing movies."

Hippolyta, obviously trying to play along, replied:

"Are you referring to A Clockwork Orange?"

"The story lacks moral at every turn. It's creepy and violent and was highly controversial," Bruce acknowledged. "But it did win awards for a reason."

"I stopped watching when he started beating that poor old man," Hippolyta said, frowning deeply. "If I want to see people being assaulted, I can always turn the news on."

"Too much violence in real life?" he inquired, and Diana could tell it was not sarcasm. Her mother gave him a…wait…could that be an approving glance?

Diana held her breath, hoping they were about to bury the hatchet. And then…

"Still, it is kind of ironic given that you are the head of a company that uses violence to get by."

"Violence and self-defense are two different things," Hippolyta snapped back. "Are you are one to speak; one don't learn martial arts the way you do without a reason."

Bruce smirked.

"What can I say? I love showing off."

Diana hit her forehead on the table and gave up.

Five Dates

Dessert was soon served and everyone fell under the spell of the cook's tiramisu. Diana was positively sulking, persuaded the evening was going south. Hippolyta hated to admit it, but she thought that, on the contrary, the boy was gaining bonus points every ticking second.

He spoke intelligently and didn't shy away from her verbal attacks. He was quick to defend his opinion, those being built upon his own observations and not merely repeating words he had heard elsewhere. His manners still reminded her of Diana's father, but unlike him, Bruce seemed to recognize the lines he shouldn't cross. Oh he pushed her, tested her reactions just as she tested his, but never outrageously or alienating. Yes, she loathed to admit it, but he might turn out to be a decent match for her daughter.

"If I didn't have Alfred, I would try to steal your cook," Wayne said once he was done with his dessert.

Another point in his favor; he had finished his plate entirely. Either he was too polite not to show his dislike of Greek food, or he had liked it.

"Who is Alfred?" Hippolyta asked.

"My guardian slash father figure slash butler," he replied fondly.

Hippolyta knew of the boy's story –who didn't in this part of the country? -which was the only reason why she hadn't attacked him on his manners and education. Her own parents had passed away when she was twenty, and no matter how much at odds they had been, she wouldn't appreciate to be criticized upon that point. She wondered if he had noticed her restrain in that domain.

"I will send your compliments," she replied. Her gaze was drawn to the clock. "Nine already?"

"Time runs fast when one has fun," Diana drawled, annoyed. Both Hippolyta and Bruce exchanged a glance.

"Diana dear," Hippolyta said. "Would you mind telling Philippus I'll be expecting her in my office in a few moments? We have a few things to clear before tomorrow."

Diana's warning glare told her she knew this was just a distraction to get her out of the room. Still, she left the table and the room, sending one last warning glare to the two other occupants. She would do what told, and Hippolyta expected nothing less from her. Her attention returned on the boy who was watching his girlfriend, most likely thinking the same way she did.

"If you have something to say," she started. "Say it now."

His amused stare turned into a frown as it returned to her.

"You're asking for honesty? Fine. I really like Diana, and I will keep dating her with or without your approval. But I think she'll appreciate it if you showed at least indifference where I'm concerned. Hate me all you want, but not in front of her, and I'll return the favor."

"Your word isn't much when it comes to girls, or so I've heard," Hippolyta snapped back. "Why should I want to let my daughter go out with a boy who can't keep it in his pants?"

Wayne cringed.

"I can't promise I won't hurt her one way or another. But I will never betray her. Even I'm not stupid enough not to know I don't deserve her."

Hippolyta couldn't agree more.

"I have a question, Mister Wayne. I have heard some of your friends aren't very…recommendable."

The sudden sharpness in his eyes surprised her.

"I have few friends but many acquaintances. You'll have to be a little more precise."

He knows what I'm talking about, she thought gleefully –and worriedly at the same time.

"A highly intelligent man, but also a murderer. He calls himself Jack."

The boy's body tensed and his stare hardened; he didn't look like an arrogant carefree teenager anymore, but a predator seeking for a prey.

"When did he call?" he demanded. Hippolyta raised an eyebrow at his tone.

"Last Saturday."

He cursed and shut his eyes closed. Then he muttered some incoherent words too low for him to hear till he eventually addressed to her again:

"I take it Diana's father warned you?"

For a brief moment, the world froze. Hippolyta's eyes widened in shock and felt her breath stop, as if someone had given her a particularly vicious punch in the guts. The Wayne boy caught her astonishment and explained on a quieter tune:

"I know Arthur Curry."

Arthur Curry. She didn't know that name.

"He's Atlanna Lantis's illegitimate son."

Ah, this was another ghost she hadn't heard of in a while. The woman had been dead for two years now. She had been a good friend when Hippolyta was still engaged, as the two women had been promised to men they didn't really like around the same time. They had still emailed each other from time to time, and suddenly, nothing. She was quite certain Atlanna had died from an accident, though the circumstances remained fuzzy. Hippolyta wouldn't be surprised if her poor friend had been assassinated by her brute of a husband.

"They kicked him out when she died because he refused to take their family name. We are good friends…and he's kind of talkative when he's drunk."

Hippolyta suddenly wanted to trash the boy, demand him to tell her everything he knew. She had worked so hard to shelter Diana from the truth, to hide her from that accursed family…

"I don't want them close to Diana any more than you do," Bruce went on, ignoring her inner turmoil. "Arthur doesn't consider himself a part of them since he has no blood tie. From what he told me, I wouldn't shake their hand either. As for 'Jack', he won't hurt her."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shut his eyes closed or a moment, a mark of pain crossing his face.

"He won't hurt her." Bruce repeated slowly. "He might be curious, but in the end, she's insignificant to him…and she's…" he swallowed uncomfortably. "I like her. A lot. He will leave her alone if I stop searching for him." The pill seemed bitter to swallow. "If he ever calls again, tell him he wins. I'm done."

His fists were clenched and his eyes narrowed in anger. There was a poison in his body, she realized, and it was eating him from the inside.

"Who is he?" Hippolyta demanded. Bruce met her eye but remained silent. Whatever secret he was carrying, he would not divulge. Thankfully, Diana chose to return at that moment.

"Did I miss something?" she asked, which belied the question: did you two behave?

Wayne smirked, all traces of the previous angst gone.

"Just a little heart to heart, full of compassion and understanding, nothing to worry about."

Hippolyta rolled her eyes.

"I know how to talk civilly to a man, Diana," she chided her. "And I have some work to do. Show him around the house before he leaves. I bid you good evening, Bruce."

The astonished look on her daughter's face almost made her want to immortalize the moment. Her current acceptance was nothing more but biding time and both knew it. She would let him win that round, watch his every movement and reinforce the security around her daughter. In the meantime…she had an old fiancée to call.

Five Dates

Diana still couldn't believe her mother had given her approval. Well, perhaps approval might be exaggerating, but given the circumstances, she'd take it.

"Should I keep the door opened?" Bruce inquired with a teasing smirk.

After the customary tour of the training building she called her house, she had brought him to her bedroom, which was the last at the end of a long row of dormitories. They had to walk past every single door containing two employees of her mother's, gathering the curious eyes of a dozen well-trained women.

Diana rolled her eyes at his amused tune.

"Oh please, if mother trust you enough to leave me alone with you…"

"…surrounded by all her bodyguards, ready to skin me the moment I make an inappropriate move on you," he completed.

"I'll take the risk," she declared boldly. "Will you?"

He closed the door. Diana felt giddy as he stepped forward and pulled her into a kiss. Their little time together after his fight had her longing for more. How come his mere presence could turn her into nothing less but a giggling schoolgirl? They parted, noses brushing. When he tried to approach her again, she put her finger on his mouth to halt him. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What did you tell mother to have her approval?" his second eyebrow rose in turn. "You didn't stop arguing all evening."

Bruce released some of his grasp, gave her an innocent shrug.

"I was honest with her. She still doesn't like me, but it'll give me time to build my next defense."

Diana released him, stepped back towards the couch she had in a corner of the room. Her bed was on the opposite side, but she'd rather play it safe.

"This isn't court, Bruce."

"I beg to differ. She's judge, jury and executioner where I'm concerned."

She let herself fall on the cushions. Bruce followed suit.

"So, when will be the next date?"

He pouted, and she had to smile at his childish expression.

"I'm busy next Saturday, and I keep Sundays for the kids."

Diana ran her thumb over his eyebrow. The frown vanished under her touch and his eyes softened.

"We'll just have to squeeze some time during the week," she said. "Unless you have packed evenings?"

"Nah, just Thursdays once in a while. I'm usually reading or doing research on stuff. Ollie and Arthur crash on Tuesdays. I can kick them out if needed."

"They always come to your house?" she wondered. "You don't go to theirs?"

"I'm an orphan and the manor is a big place. Ollie's parents tolerates his weekend feasts but he still has his young impressionable sister at home and Arthur's place is…the less said, the better."

Whatever that meant, Diana thought.

"What about you? You hang out with the boys a lot? And…Etta is the redhead's name right?"

"They are my first friends outside Themyscira." When Bruce raised his eyebrow in questioning; she added: "It's a small island mother and Antiope own. I grew up there, then we left to live in the States. Themyscira is…It's Paradise Island," she said. She remembered the landscapes, the trees and the beach. "Postal card coming to life. It's very restrictive though; I grew up surrounded by the same twenty people till I was eight. All of them were women."

Bruce raised both eyebrows again.

"You never saw a man before stepping on the US soil?"

"Not really. I think I met a fisherman once; he smelt really bad, so I grew to associate fool smell and men for a long time. Even when I arrived here, I was homeschooled and not really interested in venturing outside. The propriety was large enough to keep a little girl busy and Antiope had started my training –that was far more interesting. It wasn't till I started Junior High that I was really thrown 'into the wild'," she added with invisible quotation marks.

He was staring at her like he didn't quite know what to think anymore.

"Your mother is really overprotective."

Diana smiled, amused and indulgent.

"She's just scared something will happen to me. So, what were you like, as a little boy?" she inquired in turn, and paused. Bruce's parents had died when he was eight. She didn't want to revive painful memories. "Only if it's fine with you."

He gave her a quick peck, she suspected for reassurance.

"It is fine," he said. "According to Alfred, I couldn't stand in one place. I always had to explore everywhere, always asked questions about everything. I annoyed to-them a lot," he added quickly. "Sometimes I still stick my nose into things that aren't my business. It comes to bite me in the ass occasionally, but I'm still standing, so…"

"Other people's business like Cassie?" he shrugged. Diana took it for agreement. "Speaking of which, how is she?"

Bruce seemed saddened all of a sudden.

"I stopped by the two past nights, but she's fine. She's been sleeping better since she learned her father died."

"What?" Diana stiffened on the couch, nearly stood up in shock. Bruce winced –apparently, he hadn't intended to tell her that informative bit -and glanced at her apologetically. "When did that happen?"

"The night he was arrested, someone killed him in his cell. Gordon –the commissioner –called me to tell me. You had gone through enough that day, I didn't want to upset you more."

"Do they know who did it?"

Bruce shrugged.

"It's Gotham, Di. Highest crime rate of the country. There could be many people doing this. Arkham is secured, but maybe rumors got out that he was after a child. Gotham or not, child offenders are still pretty low in the criminal hierarchy."

She might not know him well, but she was starting to get what he would and wouldn't say. And he was definitively hiding something.

"Remember what I told you about people not speaking truly to me?" Diana gently reminded him. She put her hand on his. "Talk to me Bruce. Whatever's on your chest, tell me."

Bruce avoided her gaze. He didn't retrieve his hand though, so she knew he was just gathering his thoughts. It took him a full minute to come up with his answer:

"There's a criminal out there. Years ago, he started a game: if I can catch him before my twentieth birthday, he'll give up his current life and serve his time. I can use every resource I want, but I have to show up in person, not send the cops in my stead. But every time I come close, every time I have a lead…someone dies." His shoulders slumped. "He killed two people that day, and Cain was my warning that I am growing close. And since there are others…others I care about. I can't drag them into this. I can't drag you into his game." He pulled away from her embrace and met her eyes. The vulnerability in those cerulean irises stunned her. "I don't want anything to happen to you. I really like you."

Diana felt herself blushing again, but couldn't look away from his face.

"I hope so," she replied. "Because I like you too." Her smile fell. "Does that mean I will be a target from now on?"

She ought to feel afraid, she supposed. For some reason, she wasn't. Something told her that if she had been in greater danger, Bruce wouldn't have been so neglectful about it. Not to mention, she could take care of herself. He shook his head.

"He won't hurt you. I'm stopping that stupid game. I should have known from the start I had no chance anyhow. He always is two steps ahead of me, no matter how many shortcuts I try to take."

"And he'll let you drop it?"

Bruce snorted.

"I don't know. Even if he doesn't want me to stop, he'll know why. Maybe he'll install new rules then, I'll find out in due time."

Diana remained silent for a while. Then, she asked quietly:

"Why you? Why did he start that game with you?"

Bruce glared at the ground.

"I know his real name," he whispered. "It won't help the cops either way, but I'm one of the few who remembers him, before he became who he is. So I suppose it's his way to keep him in my mind."

The two remained quiet for a while.

"So, you were saying about Cassie?"

Safer territory. Back to basics. Bruce gave her a side smile, acknowledging what she was about.

"You should stop by say hello to her someday. She's been asking about you."

Diana felt genuinely surprised.

"Really?"

"You protected her against her father, she'll remember that." Diana almost winced; protect was a big word, she had mostly ran around carrying her. Bruce seemed to sense her discomfort as he took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I guess I could come with you Sunday," she suggested.

"She'll be thrilled," Bruce assured her. He considered something. "I was thinking…are you free Saturday night? Why don't I take you Ollie's Night Fever?"

"I thought it was on Fridays?"

"Dinah –the girl he's trying to court –can't come on Fridays anymore. So he moved it to Saturdays."

"Your friend is weird." Diana stated. Bruce smirked.

"Yeah, I told him that too."

She rolled her eyes, but was still smiling.

"Why doesn't he just ask her out?"

"He's a chicken when it comes to girls he actually likes. So, are you interested?"

Diana pursed her lips to think.

"Sure, why not." Those kinds of parties didn't interest her much, but perhaps being with Bruce would change things. And this was part of his world, something she wished to investigate deeper. "Enough heavy talk," she chided and kissed his cheek. "We'll watch each other's back. Okay?"

He didn't have time to answer. Someone knocked at her door and entered without expecting an answer. Diana jerked back to break the distance between her and Bruce. Antiope stepped in, a firm scowl on her face.

"Hippolyta said I should drive you back before you do something emotionally stupid," she announced. Then her frown switched into a grin: "You'll have to sleepover at his place if you want anything to happen, dear niece."

The hell-? Diana thought, incredulity growing by the minute. She knew Antiope liked him, not that she would so openly approve him. Bruce shifted uncomfortably on the cushions.

"I take it you are feeling better, Miss Prince?"

"Your chauffeur is waiting, young man." She said warmly. "You should walk him out before your mother reviews her initial impression."

With a roll of her eyes, Diana stood, Bruce thankfully followed, looking oddly subdued. She wondered why her aunt seemed to make him so uncomfortable while he had no problem riling up her mother. She didn't ask him though. They made out of her home without unpleasant encounter –being close to ten, most of the inhabitants tended to tuck in early before of the six am training sessions in the morning. She held his hand on the way, enjoying the small contact. He had initiated it earlier in the evening, probably to taunt Hippolyta, but she actually liked it. Antiope escorted them to the front door. Diana walked him to his car. He was about to open the door when she asked:

"What should I put for Oliver's party?"

"Come casual. With your form, anything will do," he replied seriously. She rolled her eyes.

"Flatterer," she mumbled, but allowed him to kiss her goodbye. Then he stepped into the car and was driven away. She watched him vanish through the entrance gate and thought herself ridiculous for feeling sad, she would see him the next day after all.

"Ah, young love."

Diana jumped, startled as her aunt came to stand behind her. She hadn't heard her approach; and she blamed Bruce once again for distracting her. Then, she understood Antiope hadn't walked all the way up to cheer her up, but to answer one specific question. As always, Diana didn't even have to ask before she spoke:

"Not all men are detestable. He's not perfect, but he has a good heart." She wrapped her arm around Diana's shoulder. "If he does break your heart, I'll be the second in line to take care of whatever you leave behind."

Diana hugged her back. She only wished Hippolyta could have said the same.

Five dates

'…I know his real name. It won't help the cops either way, but I'm one of the few who remembers him, before he became who he is. So I suppose it's his way to keep him in my mind.'

"Something amusing?"

The man didn't bother turning around to answer.

"You could say so."

He was smirking, his ear plug transmitting every bit of conversation Bruce Wayne was having with his confirmed girlfriend Diana Prince. He should really thank his inside woman for setting the bug in the girl's room, in case she ever brought him there. He pulled out a small journal and checked the line 'B has a girl!'. Right beside it, he scribed: 'he trusts her' and underlined it twice.

Behind him, a woman slowly rolled on her side to stare at him.

"What is going on?"

The man sighed and put the earplug down.

"Bruce is growing up."

"Oh?"

"He's giving up the playboy persona for a girl. Isn't that cute?"

The woman moved into a seated position. The covers slipped off her body, revealing smooth glowing skin to the light. His eyes rested on her shapely forms a brief moment.

"Do you really believe he will be faithful to that one? After what happened with…what was her name again, Serena? I can't remember if you killed that one."

"He told her about me. Not the whole thing, obviously," he added with a shrug. His muscles flexed as his shoulders rose and lowered. He stood and stretched, making his back crack loudly. "Ow…but just enough. And no; Selina's still alive. She tried to redeem herself and Bruce broke her heart in return for her betrayal. Knowing how teenagers work, that's punishment enough."

The woman pouted.

"So he's stopping the chase? Such a shame, he was getting good at it."

"A bit too good. He might have found me if he hadn't been distracted by the girl. He was trying to be sneaky and smooth. Sneaky and smooth is my domain. He should have barged in without second thoughts. There, I would have been in trouble."

The man approached the bed. The woman smirked and posed with allure.

"Now, something tells me you are not ready to have him quit yet."

"I'll figure out something," he admitted. "It's nice to have your own…what's the word, nemesis? Opposite?" He pushed the woman's body back on the mattress and straddled her. She chuckled and reached out for him. "You still have time?"

"My dear hubby won't come home for a while; stuck at work, playing wannabe thug." The man growled. Her grin widened. "Don't pout, lover. You're still my favorite."

"So you say." He cupped her breasts. The woman sighed:

"Less talk, more action. C'mon soldier, you've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Another masterpiece," he concluded, and went on with the motion.

Till next time :)