A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This is dedicated to Hepburn, since it is her prompt word. It is spectacularly long, I have to warn you - and I may have got quite a bit of the science wrong, but we're not here for science, are we? ;) Enjoy!

Challenge

"Ooof!"

"Not in danger of getting out of breath are you, Princess?" Batman smirked.

In truth, she was very much out of breath, but that was because she had just had two hundred plus pounds of man land heavily on top of her, preventing her lungs from working properly. It didn't help that every time she did manage to take a breath, she inhaled a mix of fresh male sweat and his own intoxicating scent.

They were sparring. And she was losing.

Mainly because he kept doing things like — Oh Great Hera — that; this time he actually licked his lips. Since he was stretched out on top of her, his mouth was less than an inch from hers.

He rolled off her, got to his feet nimbly. She followed suit, flying to her feet before he managed to get to his. Just in time to — in theory — kick his feet out from under him. Of course, what she actually got was a fist to the jaw.

Damn it, the man was fast.

She used the momentum, and backflipped, her booted foot catching him under the chin. He stepped back a pace, but kept his footing. Diana sank her fist into his midsection, but as she drew it back again, he grabbed her wrist, and then was suddenly behind her, twisting her arm behind her back, contorting it to an angle he had to know was painful. She couldn't move without risking dislocating her shoulder, so couldn't defend against what she knew was coming; he kicked the back on her knees, hard, and she landed on them heavily, Bruce behind her.

He bent, she felt unbearably hot breath against her shoulder and neck. He had to know what that did to her. If he did, he was using it to his advantage, since in came the sexiest voice this side of the Elysian fields.

He breathed lowly into her ear, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "One of these days you might set me a real challenge."

Something in Diana snapped.

It was one thing to flirt with her on monitor duty, or before a Founders' meeting started, but not when they were sparring. Fighting like this was an exercise in controlling power, in tactics. It was meant to highlight weaknesses in technique that could be fatal in battle. And no possible enemy she could face would affect her like this. So exactly why Bruce thought this was acceptable behaviour, she had no idea.

It was time this ended, one way or the other.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she shot upward. Sure enough, her arm was wrenched out of its socket, and Bruce had no choice but to let go. They both clearly heard the gristly crack as the joint gave way, but Diana paid no heed to it. Bruce, however, frowned in both concern and puzzlement.

"Diana —"

His sentence was cut short as Diana pressed her good forearm into his throat. Effectively choking him for the time being, she leaned in. "You want a challenge, Bruce? Fine!" She lifted her arm, and thus his feet a few inches from the floor. "Decide what you want from me," she hissed. "I challenge you to be the man I want." She let go, and he collapsed to the floor. "And if you can't do that, then stop. Stop flirting with me, stop toying with me. Stop everything."

Leaving him gasping for breath, she turned and stalked out of the room. Once the door was closed, however, the burning pain in her shoulder returned full-force. Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, she headed for the Infirmary. She ran into Clark on the way.

He smiled. "Hey, Diana, how — What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"It's dislocated," she answered shortly. "Would you mind?"

He frowned. "Shouldn't you go into the Infirmary?"

"Please, Clark."

His frown got deeper, but he nodded. "Sure."

He moved to her side, grabbed her wrist with one hand and put a palm against her side. "This is going to hurt," he warned.

"Pain does not scare me, Superman," she snapped.

Eyebrows climbing toward his hairline, he tightened his grip slightly. "Going to tell me how it happened?"

"Sparring ma — Ah!"

While she was mid-sentence, he'd pulled sharply, and with a second cracking sound, Diana's shoulder popped back into place. The pain immediately lessened to a dull ache. "Thank you," she sighed.

He nodded and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. "Sparring match with who?"

"Bruce," she growled.

Clark, to his credit, did not say anything more. Diana marched away, heading to her room and a shower. Clark watched her go, then decided he'd give Bruce a visit. Not that he was expecting anything, but live in hope.

---

He knew he'd pushed her too far today, but only a little further than he normally did. In truth, the sexual tension between them (he wasn't going to waste time pretending that wasn't there) had always been enjoyable, especially during their sparring sessions. Apparently it had ceased to be enjoyable for Diana. He hadn't been expecting her to do that though — part of him had even expected her to kiss him. But to deliberately dislocate her own arm…

Be the man I want.

God he wanted to. He wanted to be that man so badly, but… He obviously had been that man once, but now, for whatever reason, he wasn't.

Stop toying with me.

Toying with her?

Behind him, the doors hissed open. Oh joy. Boyscout to the rescue again. "Better be important," he growled before Clark said a word.

"It is," he answered. "How — and why — did you almost break Diana's arm?"

"We were sparring. End of."

"Neither of you have ended up seriously injured before," Superman pointed out. "What happened?"

Bruce was saved from answering by a blaring alarm going off, followed by red lighting flashing up. Batman didn't blink — this was the reason he'd stayed onboard after the sparring session. Or rather, this was the reason he'd intended to stay; now he was here brooding over Diana.

"What on earth is that?"

Bruce checked the readings. As expected. "Meteor strike."

"What?! Have we got time to evacuate?" Superman rushed over to the Watchtower's PA and grabbed the microphone. "All personnel, this is-"

Batman covered the microphone. "It was predicted months ago, Superman, and the Watchtower will withstand it."

Clark's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "Never mind," he said weakly into the microphone.

Bruce rolled his eyes and took the PA from him. "All personnel, this is Batman."

Just stepping into the shower, Diana muttered an unkind word in Themysciran, and turned the shower pressure up high, letting the noise drown out his voice.

Back in the monitor room, Bruce continued. "In approximately ten point eight minutes, a meteor storm will hit the Watchtower. This has been predicted, and should not cause a problem. However for safety, get to the escape shuttles. Move calmly and orderly - there is no rush, and do not jettison until I give the command."

Letting go of the microphone, he started tapping at the controls. Glancing at the security cameras, he saw the other League members leaving various areas — the commissary, the sparring rooms, their quarters — to move towards the escape shuttles, as they'd been instructed.

"Should we join them?" Clark asked from behind him.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. "I'll stay here and monitor the strike. If the hull's breached, someone has to be here to try and stop decompression."

The Kryptonian nodded. "I'll make sure everyone's accounted for," he told him. He started toward the door, but then stopped to look back. "Don't do anything stupid, Bruce. I'd hate to have to come rushing to your rescue because you tried to go down with the ship... again."

Bruce growled, but Clark just grinned at him and left.

The next ten minutes passed calmly, still giving him time to think about Diana. Perhaps she was right - flirting and innuendo was all well and good, and so far it had worked for them, but maybe one day there had to come a time when they actually made it to something real or...

He grimaced. Or it was time for them to go their separate ways. He didn't want that. Their separate ways meant... well, just that. Diana not being there, not responding with her usual light banter? He couldn't handle that. Or he could — but things would get depressing as hell.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he turned his attention back to the monitors. The meteors were now only thirty seconds away. Everyone was on standby to be evacuated by now, though he was certain it wouldn't be necessary. The Watchtower's automatic defense systems would take out the big ones, and the armour should stop the ones that managed to sneak through.

Twenty seconds.

Suddenly Clark's voice came over his com-link. It was calmer than expected. "Batman?"

"Yes?"

"Diana's not here."

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. "I'll contact her, don't worry."

"There's nothing to worry about is there?" Superman returned, a smirk in his voice.

Bruce ignored him and put a hand to his com-link. "Diana, come in."

Nothing.

"Damn it, Diana, this is important."

Still nothing, and seven seconds to impact. "Wonder Woman!"

Six, five, four -

"You've just got me out of the shower, Batman, it had better-"

The automatic laser defence system woke up, targeted the massive chunks of rock coming toward them, then fired.

As expected, some got through. Three, two, one-

"You need to get out —"

Impact.

The whole Watchtower shook as the meteors hit — more than it should have done. Cursing, Bruce held onto whatever structure was solid enough not to be dislodged and waited for it to pass. The laser defence system was still active, and still firing, and the armour was also holding. After no more than ten seconds of impacts to the Watchtower, the meteor storm passed, and the satellite stabalised.

Bruce only had one thing on his mind. "Diana? Diana, answer me!"

"I'm fine," she answered calmly, "what happened?"

"Meteor strike on the Watchtower."

Her voice was annoyed when she answered. "And you couldn't have warned me —"

The computer's voice cut in. "Decompression alert. Decompression alert."

"Shit!"

Batman looked at the screen, pinpointing the leak. It couldn't be big; if there was a huge hole an entire section of the Watchtower would have buckled, and they'd all have their blood boiling in microseconds. Sure enough, the decompression was small, and was located — Oh that's just fantastic.

"Diana, can you get out?"

"What?" she asked. "Why would I need to —"

"Decompression is occurring on your level. Slowly, but in a few minutes you're going to run out of air."

When she spoke again, her voice was perfectly calm. "I don't think I can," she said. "The corridor seems to be completely blocked — I could probably smash through or bend it, but that would risk widening the breach."

"Either way you'll run out of air," he said, feeling an unfamiliar emotion rise up to settle somewhere at the back of his throat.

"I know, Bruce, but it's not without a solution. Have J'onn phase to me with some oxygen —"

"J'onn can't phase objects, Diana, only himself!"

"Then bring a shuttle around to the other side of the Watchtower and I'll get out of the airlock this side. That's not blocked."

"It'll take too long!"

"We don't have a choice," she said.

Was it just him, or was her voice getting fainter. "You need to get out now!"

His voice sounded nothing like normal. It wasn't calm and logical. It was almost bordering on panic. And he felt it, an emotion he hadn't allowed for more than twenty years. Fear was cold, did nothing useful, and only prevented you from completing the task you had set out to do. A team-mate didn't feel fear for another team-mate. But a man knowing that the woman he cared so deeply for was about to die — he felt fear. He knew what panic felt like, gripping at his heart and clawing at his lungs. He knew fear intimately.

For the past two decades, Batman had presented the ultimate challenge to fear. He had defied it in his every waking moment while at the same time using it as a cheap trick on the scum in Gotham. Fear, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

"Bruce," she said calmly. "We don't have a choice. I'll reduce my intake of oxygen as much as possible, but you have to get that shuttle here."

He forced himself to answer as he normally would. "Acknowledged. Standby for the shuttle's arrival."

"I will. Try not to worry so much, Bruce." The smile in her voice came through as forced even through the com-link.

He didn't answer. It would be pointless. Instead he left the monitor room and sprinted to where the escape shuttles were waiting. Superman's shuttle was the first in line, and he punched open the door with a grim expression.

Clark's face was equally unhappy. "Is she alright?"

"Arrow, Vixen, Canary and Steel — out," Batman ordered.

They all filed past him, and Bruce shot the door. "She's trapped on Dormitory Deck A — there's a decompression, a slow one, but she's going to run out of air if we don't get there fast."

"On it."

"Fast, Kent," he repeated. "If we don't get there within..." he checked, blanched, "... three minutes, she's going to run out of air."

Clark dutifully increased the throttle until the craft was shaking with the force of it, but it did speed away from the Watchtower quickly.

Bruce touched his com-link again. "Don't talk, Diana, but Superman and I are on the way."

Silence.

What if she'd already run out of air? What if she'd lied, and she really was injured and he didn't know, what if her com-link had ceased to work and- "Diana? Diana, do you copy?"

"You told me not to talk."

He breathed half a sigh of relief at her strong voice. "I know, I just... Just hold on Princess."

"I've never seen you like this," his friend noted when he took his hand away, looking positively alarmed.

"This has never happened before," he barked swiftly.

Clark frowned. "We've all been in danger before, Bruce - so has Diana."

"Not-" He cut himself off.

"Not what?"

"Not without me, she hasn't," he said, the reluctant truth coming to the fore.

It was a fact. She'd never been in a situation where she was in very real danger of death... when he wasn't there. Which was ridiculous, since even if he had been there there was absolutely nothing he could do. It wasn't helping.

Of course there was nothing else he could do here either, so ignoring Clark, Batman resorted to pacing back and forth across the floor. He knew the other Leaguers would be coming out of the escape shuttles, and that there was more damage to the Watchtower. He should be making a list of what would need repairs, double-checking that there were no more leaks in the hull, anything useful. But those things were completely beyond him right now.

It was one thing to have Diana impose a deadline on him, challenge him to show her something real, but to have that decision taken entirely out of his hands-! It sounded childish, but it wasn't fair that he should lose her like this. Let him drive her away, let him become a bitter lonely old man through his own decisions if necessary, but not like this. Not like this.

And after this, once she was safe and warm, was he still fooling himself that he could pretend? In the heat of battle it was easy to ignore how important she was - they all risked their lives, not just Diana, but now. Now it was just Diana in mortal peril. And that fact was vital, because she was vital — but just how much, he was only just finding out. This was an extreme version of what she'd meant. Stopping their less-than-professional relations was one thing, but this would remove her from his life altogether. Which was completely unacceptable. It would mean... lonely old age here I come. Christ, he was lonely now — in fifty years time, when he'd probably want company?

I can't lose her, he realised.

It seemed to be something that needed vocalising, since suddenly he found himself making the declaration to the general atmosphere. "I can't lose her. Now or ever."

There, that was it. It just wasn't happening.

"About time," Superman sighed.

Startled that he'd somehow forgotten the Kryptonian's presence, Bruce blinked. "Excuse me?"

Clark smirked. "I think you heard me. I said it was about time. It took you long enough, Bruce."

"I..." Trailing off, he settled for a batglare. "This doesn't leave this shuttle."

"Agreed. If you tell Diana that."

Bruce's gaze returned to the view ahead. If she's alive then I'll marry her, he felt like muttering, but didn't. Clark would hear it, and then he'd probably take it seriously — and he wasn't ready for that.

Suddenly his attention sharpened. "Tell me that's not..."

Clark leaned forward too, though for him there really was no need. "It is," he confirmed. "The airlock seal is damaged."

"How damaged?"

"I don't know. We won't until we attempt to dock with it."

A few seconds later, they were close enough to dock with the Watchtower once more. There was no problem at first, but Bruce's paranoia was nagging at him again. Sure enough, when he tried to open the Watchtower's doors, the airlock refused to cooperate. There was no air in order to fill it and allow them to dock fully. Opening it manually would mean that any remaining air in that section of the Watchtower would be sucked out in order to fill the airlock.

Bruce cursed and sorted through his options again. Finding one — albeit not an ideal one — he opened the compartment containing the oxygen masks, and chucked one to Clark. "Put it on."

Looking puzzled, Clark did as he was told, fixing the mask over his nose and mouth. "Now what?" he asked, voice slightly muffled.

Bruce gestured at the shuttle's loading door. "I'm opening this door, and then you smash through into the airlock. The air will be sucked from in her into the airlock, then we can open it."

Clark nodded, and then Batman opened the doors of the shuttle, making sure to hold onto something before he did. At a signal from Batman, Clark went into action, effortlessly smashing through the Watchtower airlock. With a hissing, sucking noise, all the air inside the shuttle rushed out of it, and into the air lock.

"Equilisation will occur once we've opened the Watchtower. It means... It means more air will be pulled out of the Watchtower to re-oxygenise the shuttle."

"But —"

"I know," Batman interrupted brusquely. "But we don't have a choice."

Superman nodded against his better instincts, and then moved. The reinforced steel doors were shredded like tissue paper. A few seconds later, there was less air in the Watchtower than there had been before. Bruce didn't waste any time; he grabbed another oxygen mask and ran past Clark and down the hallway. He heard Clark trying a failing to contact Diana on her com-link. Ran faster.

By the time he got to Diana's door, his panic hadn't faded one iota. "User override 001."

"User recognised. ID: Bat —"

"Open this door," he ordered.

The doors hissed opened unbearably slowly, and Bruce was through them before they'd opened fully. "Diana! Diana!"

When he saw her, she had obviously tried to conserve as much oxygen as possible. She was on her bed, lying down on her back. And she was unconscious. "Her heart's still beating," Clark assured.

"But she's not breathing! Diana! Diana, wake up!" He shook her shoulder, but she remained unresponsive. Taking the spare oxygen mask, he placed it over her face and secured it. Wasting no time, he scooped her up. "Back to the shuttle, then we're getting to her the med-bay."

By the the time they were back in the shuttle and taking off, Diana was already beginning to stir. Bruce let out a sigh of relief. She was gong to be okay. Thank... Hera for that. As her arm came up randomly to swat her mask away, he took her hand gently.

"No, Diana. It needs to stay on."

"Hmmm ...?"

"Princess."

Her eyes opened, and she looked at him blearily. "Breathe," he advised.

With that, she seemed to realise that she was out of danger now, and that it would be alright for her to take deep breaths again. Suddenly her chest was heaving as she pulled in huge gulps of air. After a few minutes, her breathing had evened out, and she pulled the mask off.

Bruce put it back on again. "Until we get to the infirmary."

"I'm fine, Bruce."

"Let J'onn be the judge of that."

When they docked at the non-damaged side of the Watchtower, Bruce made to carry Diana again without thinking about it. How was it affection was suddenly so easy, even in such simple gestures?

She put a hand on his chest, took her mask off, but spoke to the other occupant of the shuttle. "Clark, would you mind giving us a minute?"

Clark looked surprised, but nodded and left once the airlock was open.

Diana smiled at him. "Bruce, stop trying to reassure me. I wasn't for a moment concerned that you might not reach me in time."

"I was."

She blinked. "But... you always stay calm. You always —"

"For a moment... I wasn't acting or thinking as I always do," he said quietly.

Diana stopped. "What?"

He turned to looked at, and removed the cowl. "I wasn't thinking straight, Diana."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He let out a laugh that held no mirth. "Because you were about to die!" he said. "How was I supposed to-"

"Bruce, we've all been in situations like that before," she said, coming closer.

He took her hands before he'd even thought about it. "But it was you, Diana. If it had been Superman or GL, I would have been fine. I'd have kept a cool head, stayed calm and got them out. But it was you."

Her breathing seemed to have hitched in her throat. "Are you —" Are you saying what I think you're saying?

"When you told me you to be the man you wanted — what did you mean?"

She bit her lower lip. "I think I meant that."

That was, really, all she'd wanted; for him to show emotion where she was concerned, even a little bit. Or no, not emotion, but difference. To make her feel that she was different to anyone else. That didn't mean at work in the League — it just meant... a touch on her hand when no one else was looking, or a smile every once in a while.

She didn't have time to think of what else she might have wanted from him, because his mouth was on hers and her brain shut down. He kissed her gently, softly. "Then consider your challenge answered."

---

A/N: Review please!