During the first few days, Steve felt very nearly overwhelmed by the enormity of the task before him. He had to bring this hulk of foreign technology to life, using nothing but his bare hands, a faded manual, a case of spare parts and odd tools, and the memories of nagging reminders from his kid friend, Frankie.

Oh, and hope. Let's not forget that.

It took a few deep breaths, but Steve finally got started. He organized everything he had found and took inventory, scratching little marks on the back cover of the manual with a stub of pencil. It was disheartening to see how many pieces were missing, even with the contents of the safe they'd discovered. But there was nothing for it, so Steve just proceeded as best as he could. He had never been one for crying over spilled milk.

He spent an entire night just cleaning out the inside of the plane's metal hull. It had been badly dinged up, and of course, blown away in one spot. He planned to use some of the metal plating from the floor of the cockpit to patch it up. He also needed to reattach the end of one of the wings, and some of the tail. But how the hell he was going to do that without the proper tools, he had no clue.

To his shock - and seemingly hers as well - it was Diana who furnished the solution. It turned out the Amazons had other crazy artifacts besides the Lasso of Truth. One of these was a torch that waxed hotter than the usual flame, when the bearer muttered a few words in what Steve guessed was Ancient Greek. The next night, with great difficulty, Diana smuggled it out of its vault and down to the grove.

"Holy shit," Steve said breathlessly, as the torch magically burst into blue flames. There was no other way to describe it - it really did seem like magic. After a moment, though, Steve noticed that Diana was frowning the way she did when something puzzled her.

"That is one of the words you often use, but which I have never heard of in any language," she observed. "What does it mean?"

Steve suddenly blushed, and it wasn't due to the heat of the torch. He wasn't usually one for bad language around ladies. The sight of a magical torch was no excuse for breaking the record now. "It's, uh - not a word used in polite company," he said, finally. "Let's just leave it at that."

Diana shrugged, and they both proceeded to don the visors she had brought. The torch proved to be perfect for welding the metal together.

Steve grinned. "I like this thing," he said. She smiled back.

The torch was not the only time Diana surprised Steve with her invaluable help. If anything, the second time was even more unexpected than the first.

Several days later, with the plane's exterior more or less in one piece, he had begun reassembling the engine. But he was soon forced to stop. He simply couldn't go any further without the missing pieces. He turned to Diana in his growing desperation.

"Is there any way your metal workers could recreate these?" he asked, showing her pictures from the manual. But she shook her head.

"Their craft extends only to weapons, armour," she said. "We do not have the means or knowledge to create such precise things as these."

He sighed in frustration. Stumped again.

The next evening, Diana did not appear at her accustomed time. Steve was at first wary - he wondered if she was planning to jump him again. But an hour went by, then two, and still she did not come. Anxiety began to gnaw at him. What if she's changed her mind about keeping all this secret. Then what? But he needn't have feared.

At around midnight, he heard her step into the glade. He turned, the sensation of relief sudden and strong in his chest. But the next, it was gone.

"Good God, Diana - what happened to you?" he asked, rushing forward. She was missing her heavy cloak, dressed only in light-weight clothing. And she was dripping water from head to toe. She clasped a small sack to her chest, shivering.

"N-n-never mind me," she chattered. She held out the sack. "Here."

Mystified, Steve opened it and looked within. Then his eyes widened, and he dumped its contents out on the sand.

There were the missing engine parts, slick with sea water. Strands of seaweed still clung to some of them.

"Diana - where? How?" he said, incoherent in his shock.

"D-dove for it, same place I r-rescued you - and where the airplane washed ashore," she explained. "Those are the ones you sh-showed me, y-yes?" She frowned. "Steve, what're you doing?"

Almost without thinking, he had struggled out of his woolly coat. Instantly, the cool night air sent a chill down his back. This only urged him on. Swiftly, he pulled the coat around Diana's shaking shoulders and sat her down. In less than two minutes, he had piled up some driftwood, and lit it with the Amazon torch. It had taken longer to actually light the torch itself, because Diana was shivering so hard she could barely get the secret words out.

Steve couldn't believe it. She'd swum out into the ocean, risking her own life for him - again. Why? She wanted him to fix the airplane because her mother decreed it. But was that really worth it?

She'd finally stopped shaking, to his relief. "Diana?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Better now. Thank you."

"You risked your life, Diana. For these little pieces. Why?"

"Because you needed them," she said, as though it should have been obvious. He pulled a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I owe you. Again."

It was a sign that she had recovered somewhat, when she gave him a sly grin. "Well, this is a very nice coat. Perhaps it will do as payment for this small debt..."

Steve laughed. "So, first you take my watch, now you want my coat, too?" Then he became serious. "Diana, I - thank you."

She turned back to the fire, so that he couldn't see her face. "You're welcome."

For following nights, it would be nice to say that Steve had no more difficulty with the engine. But as can be expected, there were many complications even with pretty much all the necessary parts. He soon got used to the feeling of dirt and engine grease up to his forearms, and streaked across his face.

Once, Diana gravely informed him, "You look as though you are going into battle."

It often felt that way. Steve wrestled with the plane's innards for nights, sometimes feeling as though his work was having no effect. The only time he'd remotely felt like this was back in a course for mechanics he'd taken, years ago. In comparison to this, that stuff seemed child's play.

Around one in the morning, he'd be escorted back to his quarters. But instead of collapsing onto his mat, he burned candle after candle reading the manual, deciphering it until he practically knew it by heart. This new German engine was genius, he had to admit.

Well, guess that makes me a genius too.

He was so close. He could feel it. Every night brought him closer and closer to victory, he was certain. And now, like a runner in full view of the finish line, he could feel himself sprinting, pushing himself beyond his limits.

Unfortunately, it was taking its toll on him.

For Diana, the first sign that something was wrong came one evening, when she walked into the grove to find Steve fast asleep.

At first, she wondered if he was merely deep in thought. He was leaning back against the airplane's patched hull, the manual resting across his chest. He snored once, and Diana jumped. Great Zeus, he really is asleep.

For a moment, she was as still as he was. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. Reason told her to wake him up. If the guards were to find him sleeping when they came to escort him home, it would not bode well for him. And besides, it was what he would have wanted - for her to wake him up. She knew he hated wasting time that could be spent solving the riddle that was the engine.

But then she saw the drawn lines on his face, which she was certain had not been there before. She saw the stiffness in his limbs, and the limpness of his body. He was exhausted.

The flare of anger surprised her. They are doing this to him, for no real reason, she thought. They are beating him down beyond the strength of mortal man - and they do not care. She quashed the mutinous thought instantly. She could or would not, even in her mind, name exactly who they were.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to wake him. Suddenly, moved by an impulse, she knelt and slipped off her cloak. Careful so as not to wake him, she laid the thick cloth over him like a blanket. She was thinking of a few nights ago, when he had given her his own coat. She could still feel the pleasant warmth that had washed over her then. I suppose I am returning the favour now, she thought.

But the peaceful moment did not last. Presently, Steve started awake. Diana stifled a laugh at his expression of utter bewilderment.

"You fell asleep while working," she explained. "I did not want to wake you."

He looked surprised. "Oh. Thanks, Diana. But you really should wake me next time." He dragged himself into a standing position, handing back her cloak with a nod. Suddenly he seemed to realize what he was doing. "Is this..." Realization dawned. "Have you, uh, been here this whole time?"

She nodded. For some reason, his face went red.

They soon got back to work as usual. But this time, when the guards came to take Steve back up to his quarters, Diana followed. She watched as the light in his room burned long after he should have been resting. She knew he was still poring - no, obsessing - over that manual. She found herself worrying.

Her fears did not go unfounded.

The very next morning, training consisted of sparring. Diana had been called out more often than usual. She suspected her own lack of sleep was affecting her skill. It was a pity that she was never paired up with Steve. She could never openly speak to him anyway. They had both agreed on acting as though their evening collaborations never happened, and that they were still relative strangers to one another. Otherwise, the Amazons may have begun to suspect something.

It was a reasonable plan. But today, it forced Diana to watch in silence as Steve was badly defeated by Thalia in a duel.

She wished desperately she could help him. His technique was all wrong. She knew by now that this was not from lack of skill, but pure exhaustion. Usually he was able to fight through it. Today, however, he was completely out of it.

It did not take Thalia long to disarm him, twisting his left arm in the process. With a cry, he was down.

For a long moment, everyone waited expectantly. But Steve did not get up. He seemed to be trying to stifle a groan. Finally a few healers came forward. Seconds later, they called urgently for a stretcher. The pilot's arm was broken.

Diana's hand flew to her mouth before she could stop herself. But no one was paying attention. Antiope had signalled the return to practice, and Diana lost sight of Steve amidst the flurry of weapons.

As soon as possible, she slipped away to the healing houses. Luckily, whatever they had needed to do was done, and the healers had left Steve alone to rest. Diana went in unhindered.

"Steve?" she whispered. "Are you alright?"

He turned a weak smile over to her. "Ah, it'll be fine. Doc said I'll be good as new after a couple trips to the healing pools."

She sighed in relief. He grinned, though right now it looked more like a wince.

"Had you worried, huh?" he said.

She stiffened then, though she could not have said why. "Well, yes, of course. How soon can you get back to work on the airplane?"

He closed his eyes. "I'll have to miss a few nights," he sighed. "It's a shame...no, I know! I can tell you what to do, and you can still go down at night. If you're willing, of course."

Diana nodded. "I'll do it. Just tell me how."

That night, Diana walked swiftly through the trees. She was muttering Steve's instructions over and over under her breath, so as not to forget them. She was so engrossed, she was for once oblivious to the signs around her. That would explain how easily she was about to be surprised.

She had just stepped into the glade when a figure emerged from the shadows behind the airplane. A lantern shone in Diana's face, blinding her for a moment.

"Who goes there?" she shouted, attempting to shield her eyes.

"Hush Diana! It's only me." And with that, Althaia lowered the lantern and came forwards.

"Althaia!" Diana gasped. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the exact same thing. Diana, you do realize you are not supposed to be anywhere near the man, do you not?"

Diana tried for innocence. "I see no man standing here with us."

Her friend rubbed her temples, just as she used to when Diana pestered her as a child. "Diana. There is no need for disguise, or explanation. I have known for a while now."

Diana blinked. "You have? Then why - why - "

" - haven't I told your mother?" Althaia finished for her. "Because, Diana: I know, as well as you do, that what they ask of him is impossible. It is evident that he needs your help."

Diana nodded. "Then you understand why I must continue to do this."

"I know I cannot stop you," her friend sighed, ruefully. "So I came to give you this."

She pressed a woven pouch into Diana's hands. She could feel a small glass bottle hidden within the cloth.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A mixture I've been working on," Althaia replied. "It takes the place of sleep in restoring strength. All you need to do is place a few drops in the water you drink in the morning. It's not perfect, but it will help." Abruptly, she turned as if to go, her mission fulfilled.

"Wait." Diana seized her friend's arm, and looked into her face searchingly. "Althaia, I must ask - why are you doing this? My mother - you must realize my mother would not approve."

Her friend stared up at the palace. She spoke haltingly. "I know. And at first I was indeed afraid to do anything but witness the man's struggle in silence. But when I found out that you were helping him, I felt ashamed of myself. I - I am not brave like you, Diana. I never could be. But I wanted to help you, and this was the only way I could think of."

Diana threw her arms about her friend and embraced her tightly. "Althaia, you are brave - braver than you know," she said, her throat strangely choked all of a sudden. "Thank you for this. I'm afraid I don't deserve it."

Althaia laughed, albeit a little shakily. "Well, you did abandon me at the Feast of Selene. No, do not trouble yourself! I am only teasing."

But Diana shook her head. "I know - but still I'm sorry for that, and for keeping secrets from you, too. You are practically my older sister - I should have trusted you."

Her friend looked at her seriously. "If we are being honest with one another, there is another question I must ask. Diana, why are you doing this? Not just because you pity the man - there is something else. What is it you need, hm?"

Diana was silent for a moment. But she knew the truth.

"I need to prove to my mother that she should have listened to me on the beach. I need - I need her and Antiope to see me again, Althaia. And if it takes helping this man fix his machine to prove what I know, I will do it."

Althaia squeezed her hand. "Then may you have the blessing of the gods, Diana. Just please, be careful. Remember - he is still a man after all."

Two nights later, Steve was back on his own two feet.

All those hours of sitting still had begun to drive him crazy. It was killing him not to be working on the airplane, especially as he had felt so close to fixing it at last. It helped that Diana was willing to act as his substitute. But he needed to be there himself. It was with great relief that he heard the healers proclaim him fit for service, though he still needed to keep his arm in a sling. At first he hadn't understood why they kept him in just on a broken arm, but it turned out he had twisted an ankle as well. He just hadn't registered it amidst the greater pain of his arm.

As before, his guards deposited him with the airplane, then left for their camp on the other side of the grove. When the flicker of their torches had dwindled into the distance, Diana emerged from her hiding place. She had already been working on the engine. Her hair was tied back loosely, and stray curls kept falling into her face. Her attempts to brush them away had left smudges of engine grease all over her face.

"Steve!" she said, lighting up. "You're back!"

"And about time too," he chuckled. "I was going to go out of my mind with boredom."

She gave him a glare. "Serves you right, for killing yourself not sleeping."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand and cut him off. "Never mind that now. Here is something that will help." She showed him a small glass bottle filled with some clear amber liquid. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think booze is the answer to this one," he said.

"What? No, no - it is an energy replenisher. You need only mix it with your drink to restore your strength. This bottle should last us a while yet. We will need it until the engine is complete."

"Where'd you get it?" he asked, curiously.

"A friend," she said quietly. "One we can both trust."

Steve wanted to know more - was this friend really trustworthy enough to keep their secret? But he saw that Diana thought so, and crazy as it was, he believed her. So he merely nodded.

"Alright, then," he said. "Let's see what you've got going on with the engine."

Proudly, Diana showed him her progress. To his surprise and delight, she'd actually done quite a bit of work. In fact, so much that...

"Diana?" he asked. "About that potion you just showed me..."

"Should we take some of it now?" she inquired.

He spoke slowly. "Yes. We'll both need it. But I don't think we'll be needing it for much longer."

A/N: Phew, long chapter! Hope y'all enjoyed the little fluffy bits. Can't wait for the relationship to progress beyond this sort of contract/alliance thing they have right now. Shout out and thanks to guest reviewer "Lou" - your kind words simply made my day!