A/N: Short, again. Lots of fun at expense of Supes. Just suggestive dialogue in first section. Rest is clean.

TOURS

Watchtower, Kitchen, Friday, 11:23pm

Donna walked into the kitchen to find something soothing to drink. The last few nights had been awful. There was no way to stop Diana's dreams from seeping into her mind. Superman was refilling his Daily Planet mug before heading back to monitor duty. They greeted each other. Donna reached for Diana's mug but grew intensely red dropping the mug. Superman dived in rescuing the cup from steel floors of the Watchtower.

"Donna, are you okay?" he rested a hand on her shoulder growing more worried as he noticed her ragged breaths and rapid heartbeat.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she took in deep breaths, "Wow! That was incredible."

"Donna? Are you sure you're okay? What happened?" Superman continued to voice his concern.

"Absolutely fine. It really wasn't me. It was just Diana," she explained flashing him a smile.

"You don't seemed worried, so I assume that Diana is okay, too," he checked.

"Oh yeah! She's fantastic," Donna's eyes flashed with mirth.

"I don't mean to pry. What just happened? To Diana, I mean," Clark was overcome by curiosity.

"I'm not exactly sure, but whatever Bruce just did pleased Diana more than anything ever has," Donna smiled pouring herself a glass of milk. She pressed the gallon to her cheek, "Wow. It seems the real man is better than any fantasy that witch can cook up."

"Whatever Bruce did? Pleased Diana?" Clark mumbled her words trying to surmise their meaning. Then, his eyes grew wide as he locked eyes with Donna.

"You got it!" she saluted him with her glass. The Man of Steel grew blindingly red, a similar shade to his cape. "I get the Bashful nickname now," Donna mused.

Gotham City, Wayne Manor, Saturday, 12:23am

Alfred led Diana down a hallway that rivaled any Impressionist gallery in America. The hall was lit dimly while shadows danced on the walls. Its darkness only enhanced the brightness of the paintings, which were highlighted by soft lighting above the frames. Each picture was like a window into an exquisitely colorful world. Alfred had pointed out the highlights in the collections as they toured the halls. Diana cast one last look on the scenes of old Paris as Alfred escorted her down another hall.

"Our final destination, Miss," Alfred released Diana's arm and opened a door. Alfred immediately assumed the role of valet turning on the lights, drawing the shears, and pulling down the duvet. Diana watched him go from action to action seamlessly. Finally, she pulled her eyes from Alfred and focused on the room. The room was vast with a four poster bed and padded chest along one wall. A nightstand and chair sat on either side of the bed. A door was closed along the same wall. On the opposite wall, there was a grand fireplace flanked by two bookcases and surrounded by a couch and chairs.

"Alfred, this room is grander than any suite at the Plaza or Four Seasons. All I need is a simple bed to sleep in," Diana commented taking in the luxury of the room.

"This is actually one of the simpler rooms in the manor, Miss Diana. Our guest quarters include an office and salon. Master Bruce and Master Dick preferred their private rooms to be open and simple," Alfred smiled.

"Master Bruce? This is Bruce's room," Diana crinkled her forehead looking at him.

"Yes. The door on the south wall leads into the closet and lavatory. I will draw you a bath, Miss. All the towels and robes will be laid out, of course," Alfred pulled her shawl off carrying it into the closet. Diana watched the shadow of the butler disappear in the bath and heard cabinets and water.

When Alfred re-emerged, he quickly learned how Diana earned her reputation as a truth seeker. The gentle serene face that he was used to looking upon was replaced by a serious determined face. "Alfred, what happened in the library?" she asked in a commanding tone. Alfred imagined that she learned this tone from her mother. It was the authoritative tone of royalty.

Seeking the middle ground, Alfred suggested in a soft paternal voice, "Perhaps, we should sit down. Then, I can answer your questions." Diana followed him to the sitting area by the fireplace.

"Now. Whose actions would you like me to clarify, Miss?" Alfred asked once they were situated.

"I am curious as to why you slapped Bruce," she sat in the chair as if it were a throne.

"Master Bruce asked me to," he replied.

"Not much of an explanation," she scrutinized.

"If you were given orders in the field by your general, do you follow them?" he asked.

"I don't see . . ." she was cut off when he raised his hand.

"Please just answer the question, Miss," he coaxed gently.

"Yes, I would follow the orders I was given. I come from a warrior society. Plus I am the Princess and Ambassador for that society. Alfred, I perfectly understand that you were following his wishes but was it necessary to carry out that particular wish," she grew impatient with his lesson on logic.

"You asked for my position. If you wish to know Master Bruce's motive, then you should ask that question," he was met with a glare. He continued, "As you have probably surmised by now, the description of Master Bruce in the papers does not really fit the man that he actually is. The media obsesses on the women, the money, and the occasionally antics that he pulls in public. The incident in the library was to protect you from the pitfalls that his reputation has earned him. He simply did not wish to see your name dragged through the mud."

"Alfred, I will not let his name be scandalized for something we have no reason to be ashamed of," Diana countered.

"Diana, I know you have only known Master Wayne a short time," he ignored the shock on her face when he called her by her name, "I know you have seen parts of him, his intelligence and sense of humanity that many overlook or choose not to see. However, there are other sides that he tries to hide even from me. That boy can be headstrong, stubborn, and impossible when he thinks he's right. Though his most admirable quality is his loyalty towards those he loves. He will put himself in harm's way in order to protect those people."

Still reeling from the implication of his words, Diana asked demurely, "Who exactly are those people?"

"Any reference or mention of his parents and Master Jason, of course. Among the living, there is Master Dick, Miss Barbara, Commissioner Gordon, Mr. Fox, myself, friends, and you," Alfred gently patted her shoulder.

"Really, Alfred?" Diana whispered.

Alfred took her hand and answered, "I believe he has been enamored with you since the day he met you."

Back Alley in Bludhaven, Saturday, 2:23am

Allen rounded the corner panting heavily. He looked over his shoulder to see if that costume freak was still following behind him. His mouth twisted into a smirk when he saw that the coast was clear. A second later, he found himself on the ground after running into a brick wall. About to release a lash of curses, his mouth dropped open in shock when he realized that the wall was staring at him. Suddenly, he was pulled up by the collar and slammed into a nearby wall. Two white slits bore into his essence while the monster growled at him.

"Who is your supplier?" Nightwing demanded.

"I . . I . . Awww. ." Allen rambled incoherently.

"Talk! Who is your supplier?" Nightwing slammed him into the wall hard.

"Wiggins on Sixth. He handles the cuts," he whimpered.

"Where does he get his supply?" Nightwing growled.

"The Triad. The Triad, man!" Allen cried before collapsing to the ground.

"That's the fourth gang ring that I've found that the Triad supplies," Nightwing sighed as he and Batman left the unconscious youth in the alley walking to the Batmobile, "Are you feeling okay? You didn't go after anyone."

"I figured that you could handle it," Batman gave a short reply.

"Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence. But since when do you walk away from a fight?" Nightwing pushed.

"Your city means your rules," he responded.

"I'm never going to get a real answer out of you," Nightwing stated more than asked. Batman grinned.

"I hate when you do that. It's creepy," Nightwing settled back into the car bringing up the police ban from Gotham, "Let's head back. I got the information I needed." They headed in silence back to the city that transformed both their lives. The emergency ban was quiet. Just the usual nightly violence haunted the city.

Satisfied by the calm, Dick began to leer. Good time to poke. He started in without thinking, "Did you have a chance to tell Diana your little secret?"

"Not this evening. I plan on seeing her tomorrow whether as Bruce or as Batman," Bruce responded flatly.

"What happened? Get sidetracked?" he grinned.

"Dick," Bruce shot him a warning glare.

"Oh no! The cat is out of the bag. Just remember who caused the scream heard around Gotham. What kind of damage control are you going to have to do tomorrow?" Dick held up his hands defensively.

Bruce released a deep sigh and shook his head, "Barbara is keeping an eye on the media. Alfred prepared a little damage control before I left the library."

"Ouch! Alfred packs a hell of a punch. That looked like one sore red mark on your face," Dick was grinning like an ass again.

"What made you assume that it was Alfred and not Diana?" Bruce glared realizing that Dick was playing around.

"I heard her scream. Let's just say that it didn't sound like she was upset," Dick tried to focus on entering the new Intel they learned tonight, "I can't wait till Donna finds out."

"How exactly is Donna going to find out?" Batman growled. Dick just grinned.

"No straight answer?" he inquired. The grin on Dick's face grew bigger.

"Just remember that Donna may stories on you, but I have you on tape," he warned in a dark tone.

Dick gulped, "You fight dirty."

Gotham City, Batcave, Saturday, 4:56am

The Batmobile came to a roaring halt in the cave. As Batman set the security locks and killed the engine, Nightwing had jumped out and immediately began to search for Barbara. "Are you staying here tonight?" Nightwing heard the less gravelly rasp of Bruce Wayne. He pulled off his mask turning to face Bruce.

"Don't know. It's up to Babs," he answered wondering where she disappeared to, "She may have already decided. I don't see her down here."

"Try the gym," Bruce called out as he moved his chair back in front of the main computer.

Dick wondered into the gym. The lights in the alcove were dim casting a faint light over the trapeze and weight equipment. He saw no signs of her. Then, a faint snore caught his attention. He found her sprawled out on the old couch, where they would watch each other work out or do homework assignments in the early years. Alfred had been trying to get rid of it for years, but Bruce had let it remain for some reason.

"Babs, wake up. It's time to go to bed," Dick coaxed her out of a still slumber.

As her eyes adjusted to the lowlight, she sat up supported by her elbows. "How was patrol?" she inquired.

"Gotham had the usual. No big names. The 'Haven was the typical disaster as it always is," he answered patiently waiting for her to move or hold her arms out. Barbara pulled her legs off the couch and climbed into her chair. Dick followed behind her with a soft quirk on his lips.

"You found him," Bruce stated to Barbara as the couple approached.

"Not 100% . . . aawww . . sure. Excuse me," she yawned.

"He was being held a Bellevenue. Then, they transferred him to a maximum security prison in Metropolis. He vanished during the transfer," she explained.

"Vanished?" Bruce sought elaboration.

"Disappeared into thin air. No trace of him. They loaded him into a van at Bellevenue, and he was gone when they reached Metropolis. I reviewed video surveillance around the prison and along the highway. There were no signs of forced entry or illusions. There is no reasonable explanation for how he got out," she finished.

Bruce scrutinized the look on Barbara's face and looked over at Dick. Examining the expressions on their faces, he knew that they were all thinking the same thing. "I hate magic," he cursed as the other two nodded in agreement. Bruce assumed his seat in front of the monitor and became reviewing tape from the second and ninth precincts. Barbara and Dick moved towards the elevator heading to bed.

"You may not want to stay down here too long. Diana is waiting upstairs in bed for you," Barbara called out as the elevator doors closed shut.