Sequel to Chapter 9.

I'd feel remiss if I didn't address this because I am writing for the DCEU version of the pairing: I don't mean to endorse Gal by writing this series, as Diana is separate from her and could be played by anyone.

Diana dropped in at the lake house with her purse on her arm, bearing a gift for her favorite Englishman. When Bruce gave her the hairpins, he claimed they were from Alfred. The truth was obvious, but she parsed out that it was Alfred's idea, at least. It wasn't a problem that she didn't call ahead. He was more than happy for the company.

He led her to a sitting room and chatted about what he was reading in the newspaper. Upon entering the room, she saw he was referring to an actual copy spread on a desk.

"A bit old-fashioned," she commented.

"A flaw of mine," he said sarcastically, "To be perfectly honest, I'm not much of a fan of this house, either. It's too cold, but Master Wayne wanted it that way."

He reclaimed his seat behind the desk and continued, "Speaking of the devil, he's playing CEO today, so he's going to sulk for as long as possible before getting a move on."

He reached over and flipped up a panel on the desk. There were buttons above what looked like a speaker, and he held down one of them.

"Sir, a reminder that you're due at a board meeting in one hour, followed by a 2:15 lunch with Mr. Pearson."

Bruce's voice came through with a dry, "Thank you." He sounded worn from exertion, like he'd been exercising.

"Ms. Prince is here, as well."

There was a loud clang, as if something heavy had fallen on the floor. Alfred raised a brow.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "Gimme a minute."

Alfred released the button and turned to Diana.

"He hates this thing because he can't ignore me when he wants to. I may be quite fit for my age, but I don't like trekking all across the bloody compound just to tell him his car's ready."

"Of course, not. I actually came here for you, by the way."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

She reached inside her purse for a silver box and handed it to him.

"I like to reciprocate gifts from friends."

"You didn't have to," he said, even as he eagerly opened the lid.

Inside was a silver watch.

"I hope it's not one you already have," she said.

"No, it's lovely!...Perfect fit, as well. Thank you very much."

She smiled back at him. In spite of his often wry disposition, he was a gentleman and a good friend. She asked him to elaborate more on the story he was telling her about, and he obliged amiably. Bruce appeared a little while later, garbed in a charcoal suit with a reversible waistcoat. He was adjusting his cuffs as he strode in. He quickly scanned Diana's outfit. She was fashionable as always, in tight black pants and a black top with puffed sleeves above the elbow.

"You should have told me you were coming," he said, crossing the room to exchange a kiss on the cheek with her, "I have a meeting."

"It was mostly a whim. And you're not the only one I like to visit, you know."

She smiled teasingly. Alfred looked smug.

"If you're not going anywhere, maybe I can catch you for dinner? I have a business lunch…"

He trailed off for a moment as her hand drifted toward his shoulder. She plucked a bit of lint off his waistcoat and flicked it away.

"...but I'll be back afterwards."

Her hand didn't stray far, smoothing down his lapel. He looked handsome, and she didn't feel like resisting the urge to touch him. Beyond that, he was adorable when flustered. He shot a glance at Alfred, who was likely engrossed in his paper. She flirted with the idea of brushing the hair behind his ears, her fingers poised. Goosebumps rose on his neck. He was searching her with his eyes, perhaps thinking of what might be possible if they were alone.

She dropped her hand.

"Maybe," she said lightly, "Don't let me keep you. Bruce Wayne is notorious for being late."

"Yeah," he mumbled and smirked, "I'll see you two later."

He buttoned his jacket briskly and headed for the doorway.

"Have a good day, Master Wayne," Alfred called requisitely.