A/N: This chapter isn't explicit…but it does get steamier than usual. Forewarning.

~Bedroom~

Bruce was flat on his back on his bed in the Watchtower, with his clothes being stripped off of him almost viciously, and he had no idea how he'd gotten here. One minute he'd been returning from patrol for a few hours' sleep and the next a flash of something had knocked him off his feet and dragged him to the bed.

And now she had his shirt off.

"Diana," he said, after he'd managed to get some of the dryness out of his mouth. "Diana. What's going on?"

"I'm taking charge," she replied, and proceeded to take charge of his undershirt with her teeth. Any thought of resistance vanished from Bruce's mind. Her thin fingers played across tonight's fresh bruises and all the old scars. "Now stay still. You've got tiny zippers on this suit."

"There's a reason for that." He gasped when she started biting the skin by his neck. "Di—I have work to do."

"Sure." She pressed him down onto the bed. When she was determined there wasn't anything he could do to stop her. Especially when he didn't particularly want to. "Now toss off those boots."

He did as he was told. Her mouth moved below his neck. Vaguely he wondered where she'd learned this on an island full of girls.

"Now then," she whispered, deep and throaty. The tiara landed on his nightstand, and slowly (very, painfully slowly) she slipped off her costume. Bruce put his arms around her waist and was ready to do literally whatever the hell she wanted, when suddenly she stopped short. "Did you just get back from patrol?"

"Mm-hmm." His eyes barely opened.

Diana's nose wrinkled. "You need a bath."

"I what?" he groaned. "C'mon, Di…"

"A few minutes ago you were telling me how much work you had to do." She planted a kiss on his mouth. "And anyway, you did put rather large tubs in here. Certainly large enough for two."

He willingly followed her into the bathroom. She filled the tub with hot water and bubble bath (god knows where she found that). Her boots came off with two flicks of her feet. The water came up to their shoulders.

Diana cupped water in her hands and dumped it over his head. Any last thoughts of resistance disappeared. He kissed her neck, moving down.

And then his comlink buzzed.

"Ignore it," Diana murmured. He hit the button to send the call to voicemail and pulled her close to him.

It buzzed again.

"Dammit," he muttered, and answered. "Batman here."

"Hey Bruce!" Of course it was Clark. Who else would call twice with no apparent emergency?

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Diana twined her legs with his and tickled him. He jerked and choked back a chuckle. She laid her head on his chest and whispered, "You'd better hang that up soon. Or else I'll make this awkward."

"I need you to review Atom's plans for the new Javelin." Clark was chipper as usual. "And you need to sign off on the monitor duty schedule. You know, we should get coffee sometime. I haven't talked to you in awhile."

"I need you to review something else," Diana whispered into his other ear, pressed tight up against him. Between her and the bath it was almost impossible to pay even the slightest attention to Clark. "And we haven't had some special time in awhile."

She bit one of the jagged scars on his side. He jumped. "Ah!"

"What?" Clark said.

"I'm busy!" Bruce shouted. Diana clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"The computer says you're in your room." It sounded like Clark was walking somewhere. Bruce was about to hang up the phone. "You can't be that busy if you're not in Gotham. You don't have just five minutes to take a look at this stuff?"

"Clark. I am busy. Leave me alone." Bruce's teeth grit together as Diana traced the knife wounds and bruises across his chest with her tongue. She had such small, fine teeth. He bit his lip so Clark wouldn't hear him groan.

"Oh, come on, I'm almost there."

Diana and Bruce froze and stared at each other. Bruce realized he hadn't locked the door.

"Hey!" Clark exclaimed, bursting through the door. He stopped short and his face went from pale to ripe tomato red. He dropped the file he was holding and slapped his hands over his eyes. "Oh! Oh…when you said busy…sorry!"

"Get out!" Bruce shouted. Clark turned and dashed out.

Diana settled back against the side of the tub. "Well that was mortifying."

The water was cooling. Bruce sighed and sank down so it was up to his neck. "Is the mood ruined?"

Diana gave him a small smile. "You want to get Chinese?"

Bruce was picturing the many ways he was going to murder Clark.