Hunter's Night

By Christy

A/N: Currently freezing in this insane New England weather. Hurrah for record-breaking polar vortex temperatures.

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"Oliver Queen?" My nose wrinkled slightly as I glanced up at Bruce attempting to knot his tie in the mirror. Dick and Cass sat on our giant bed, curled up into my sides, as I read them part of the Odyssey. It was part of Dick's homework, and I knew the material better than most, considering my own education from Themyscira and Mom. It had been one of Alexa's favorites. I think she might've had a crush on Odysseus at one point, although she'd never outright admitted it. Alexa. I hoped she was doing all right.

"I know," Bruce replied dryly. "The man's an arrogant -" He hesitated, knowing the kids were in the room. "Arrogant jerk who probably thinks about as much of me as I do him." He let out a short hiss of frustration as he undid the knot. "Alfred usually does this," he muttered.

I grinned, handed the book to a snickering Dick, and floated off the bed. "Turn," I ordered him, and pressed a hand to his shoulder as he moved to face me. I took both ends of the tie and neatly knotted it, tugging it up gently to fit around his neck nice and snugly.

"Where'd you learn to do this?" he asked quietly, amused.

I buttoned his top button and pulled his collar down, smoothing the tie down the front of his shirt, resting my hands on his chest. "Alfred," I said, grinning. "Who else?" I finally met his eyes. I couldn't help but flush at his intent gaze searching my face. Last night on the hills had been more than a little intense. It had been slightly... interesting coming back to sleep in the same room, in the same bed, and not... well. Holding each other was the closest we got. I knew he was thinking of the same thing, and even after being with him for almost ten years, I still got shivers when he looked at me the way he was now.

Dick coughed loudly.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, and pressed a quick kiss to Bruce's lips. He grumbled, taking my elbow in his hand, and kissed me again.

"I'll walk you out," I said. "You two, stay put. I'll be right back."

"Back after more gross smooching," Dick announced it as a commercial break. Cass let out a breathy laugh and socked him with a pillow. "Ow," he grunted. "You hit really hard, you know that?"

I shook my head and slipped my hand into Bruce's as we headed down towards the garage. It was still early, and the house was relatively quiet. Down the hall I heard Alkyone and Alfred talking, and we passed Myrto and Philomena conversing quietly in the living room. As we entered the eight-car garage, I rested my head on Bruce's shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed with an indescribable emotion, but one that left my throat tight and my grip on Bruce's hand tighter.

We had to keep our family safe. No matter what. They were too precious to me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bruce said suddenly, pausing in front of his car. "About Ares." His eyes had turned nearly inscrutable.

I hesitated, looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was... I don't know. Weak. I didn't know what'd you think."

"What I'd think?" His voice grew strained. He reached for me, held me close. "Diana, you can't hold anything back from me. What I would think is that if that were true, my only thought would be protecting you. Making sure you would get through it. I would be there for you, like you've been there for me."

"But you'd hate yourself," I whispered. "You would go down into a dark hole of self-loathing, and I don't know if you would ever see me the same way again."

"That's not true," he argued flatly. His grip tightened on my waist. "It would be hard for both of us. But we'd get through it. We've been through too much, Diana."

I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder, sighing. "Then why do I feel like it's going to get worse? Why does it feel like something terrible is coming?"

"Because it is. But we'll get through it, one way or another." He pressed a kiss to my neck. "You know we will."

"Even Oliver Queen," I said into his shirt.

His chest rumbled with laughter.

"Even Oliver Queen," he said, and pulled back. "Wish me luck."

"No such thing," I teased as he got into the car. "But I'll do my best."

"Be nice," I warned with a grin. "I do like Dinah, you know."

"She's got pretty bad taste in men," he said.

I leaned down to peer into the car. "She'd say the same of me," I said dryly.

"Maybe she's right." He smirked and started the engine, pulling out into the driveway.

Philomena

Philomena's routine had become pleasantly similar. Depending on the day, she'd train with the other Amazons, train with the children, or train with Bruce and Diana. But recently, she'd taken on a part time position at the ring and found that she enjoyed the new people she'd met, enjoyed teaching people of all ages, and most importantly, enjoyed spending time with grizzled older boxer Ted Grant. He was gruff and barked, but she knew that he secretly liked her just as much as she liked him. They suited each other well, and she found herself itching to get back to the ring more and more.

Alfred dropped her off at the corner to let her walk the rest of the way. She enjoyed these moments to herself, mentally preparing herself for the day. She was certainly the quiet one of the Unspoken Ones. Once Myrto and Charis started talking about hunting and fishing, there was no stopping them. And Artemis... well, the red-haired warrior was anything but quiet. Philomena inhaled deeply as she reached out to open the front door to the boxing ring -

"Hey!" a man's voice called out from somewhere ahead of her. "It's you!" She heard footsteps, another young voice muttering, "Really, Nick?" And then the footsteps coming to a halt in front of her.

"Uh, hi!" the young man greeted. "I don't know if you'll remember me - I'm Officer Nick Lawrence - I'm a cop. We met a while back - you helped out my brother, Jason -"

"I do remember," said Philomena, amused. "How are you both?"

"We're good, thanks," Lawrence said. "Jason just wanted to thank you -"

"Shut up," Jason hissed under his breath, nudging his brother.

"No thanks required, Jason," Philomena said kindly, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I trust you're better?"

"Yeah," the boy said quietly. "Thanks."

A short pause followed, and Philomena got the impression that the two brothers were exchanging wordless banter.

Lawrence cleared his throat. "So, yeah... um, I didn't get your name."

"Mena," said Philomena, holding out a hand. Lawrence shook it warmly.

"Wow, nice grip you got there," the cop said. "I'm just dropping Jason off at school before work. You headed to work? If you don't mind me asking," he added hastily.

Philomena overheard the annoyed sigh of his younger brother. She hid a smile at Nick's hasty words, nearly tripping over himself. "I am," she said. "I work here, at the boxing ring."

"Wow, very cool. Do you... need any help with anything?"

"You assume my blindness impedes my daily activities," said Philomena. "It does not."

"Oh, right." She could almost hear him blushing. "I didn't mean to offend you."

She smiled faintly. "You did not. But I assure you, I'm fine."

"Bro, we're gonna be late for the bus," muttered Jason. "Don't be a wimp."

"Quiet," Nick hissed through his teeth, and cleared his throat again. "Listen, Mena, I just wondered - that is - would you want to maybe grab a drink sometime? Coffee?"

Philomena paused, her hand on the door. "I do enjoy caffeinated beverages," she said.

"Great!" Nick exclaimed, almost a little too loudly. "How about this Saturday? Say around noon?"

"Noon is fine," Philomena said, feeling a little sorry for his awkward state. "I will see you then." She turned to open the door, but Nick halted her again.

"Wait, I don't have your number," Lawrence piped up, ignoring his brother's urges to leave.

"I'll meet you at Cafe Vitto," said Philomena. "On Seventh and Hanover. You know it?"

"Vitto - yeah, yeah, I know it! I'll see you then!"

Philomena smiled, held up a hand, and entered the boxing ring, shaking her head in amusement. He seemed like a nice man, she mused. A little overeager, but nothing she couldn't handle. She was a complete stranger to the new world of "dating," as Diana called it, but she was an excellent conversationalist, if she did say so herself. Still... she didn't know Nick at all, and she wasn't sure about getting into any kind of relationship. She'd have to make it clear that she would either want to move very slowly, or not at all. Although she'd stopped aging in her early twenties - and she still had no idea how old she'd been - she still felt older than her physical appearance. Nick sounded very young, probably around her age - but mentally, much younger than she.

When she stepped into the boxing ring, the entire building was quiet aside from a set of heavy footsteps. Normally Ted - or Theo, as she preferred to call him - would greet her with a grunt before returning to his duties, but lately he'd been making coffee. She inhaled, smelling the wonderful smell of dark coffee in the stale air, and shut the door behind her, starting for the kitchen in the back.

"Who the hell was that?" Ted's gruff voice demanded sourly.

Philomena took off her thin scarf and her sweater, hanging them up on a coat hanger. "Is that a note of jealousy I detect, Theo?" she teased.

A scoff. "Sure thing, Bright Eyes. I didn't hire you to blab about your love life," he grumbled. "And stop calling me Theo."

"I believe you're the only talking about my love life," Philomena said with a knowing smile, ignoring his last order.

Ted muttered something under his breath and rose to his feet, heading over to the back.

"Thank you for making coffee," she said softly, reaching out and touching his shoulder. She loved his smell. Musky, warm. She internally told herself to stop admiring his smell or his strength or fighting skills, or the way his gruff voice vibrated through her skin -

But why in Hera's name not? She'd been without male company for thousands of years. She could afford to appreciate someone.

Ted paused, then kept moving, still muttering to himself. Philomena shook her head at his antics. Removing her outer shirt, revealing a sports tank underneath, she turned sharply and made her way over to the main ring.

"Are you going to keep talking to yourself, Theo, or would you like to go a few rounds with me?" She ducked underneath one of the barriers and stepped into the ring, stretching.

There was a long, awkward pause; Philomena raised an eyebrow and pulled her hair up into a long ponytail.

"I was talking about the ring," she said.

"Yeah," Ted grumbled. "I know."

Turning away, Philomena bit her lip and hid a smile.

Helena Bertinelli

Helena was pretty confused at the moment. After that night with Vic - She had to stop calling him Vic - she wasn't sure where they stood. Colleagues, obviously. Friends? Something more? Of course, the majority of their discussion had involved gruesome case photos, but still. There had been something there. Something in those keen eyes of his as they studied her, unnerved her.

Whatever. She scoffed to herself and pulled her coat around herself more tightly. Spring was already here, but the winds of Gotham still blew chills through the body. She needed another coffee. Turning down the street towards the nearest cafe, she glanced up and suddenly noticed a familiar face heading towards her. Normally she'd ignore the blonde and continue on, preferring to be alone with her thoughts, but she had to admit... Dinah looked in a pretty bad shape. Timing her walk to match the blonde's, Helena waited until they nearly crashed into each other. Dinah started to apologize; and Helena realized that the other woman didn't even really see her or recognize her.

"Hey, Blondie. It's me," Helena said, slightly alarmed.

Dinah, her hair a little more wild than usual, her eyes slightly wide and anxious, did a double take and let out a quick sigh. "Oh, hi, Helena. I'm so sorry - I didn't even see you. I was just... just caught up in my own head, you know?"

"Right." Helena studied the other woman carefully. "You know, normally I couldn't care less, but... you sure you're all right?"

Dinah nodded quickly. "Yeah, definitely. I'm fine. Totally fine. How are you?"

"Better than you, I think," said Helena bluntly.

Dinah rubbed her temples, letting out a half-sigh, half-whimper. "Listen, I just... I need to... be away from everything for a little while."

"Ah, yes. Running away from your problems. Well, sister, you're talking to a pro," said Helena, enjoying the irritated look on the other woman's face for a moment. "C'mon. You need coffee or a strong drink. Or both. I know a place that makes a mean Irish coffee. Plenty of Bailey's."

Dinah frowned but started to walk with her. "It's the middle of the day."

"Exactly."

Bruce Wayne

Bruce was bored.

He'd met Oliver Queen several times, as billionaires did tend to run in the same circles, but each time the man had failed to impress him. Diana had always said he'd demanded exceedingly high standards of everyone else, and that really was unfair, considering his intellect. Queen's tech industry had boomed recently, though, which was worth looking at. And it gave him yet another chance to study the man secretly known as the Green Arrow. The man did have superior archery skills, Bruce would give him that.

But one thing was quite clear: Oliver Queen was distracted. The young blond man was clearly agitated, checking his phone, drumming his hand on the table, and glancing out the window constantly. Or, rather, someone was distracting him. Bruce had a pretty good idea who that person was.

"Something on your mind, Ollie?" Bruce asked, sounding incredibly blase.

"What? No. Nothing. So, Bruce? What do you think?" Oliver slipped his hands into his pockets and stepped away from the window.

"I'll have my company look things over and get back to you by the end of the week. But it does look promising, I'll give you that."

"Good," Oliver said shortly.

"So," Bruce said, rising to his feet, "You headed back to Star City directly, or you staying here for the rest of the week?"

Oliver shifted on his feet. "I'll hang around here. See what Gotham has to offer."

Hunt down Dinah Lance, Bruce thought dryly.

"Come to my house tonight," Bruce said airily. "For dinner."

"Your house?" Oliver regarded him with a dubious eye. "You sure you don't mean one of your restaurants? Or is it true that you throw massive parties?" He shook his head. "Not really in the mood tonight, Bruce. Thanks for the invite, though."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "No parties. Quiet dinner. My butler Alfred can cook up a mean meal. You can meet Diana, my fiancee."

Oliver looked less than thrilled. "I don't know, Bruce. It's a nice offer, but -"

"I insist," said Bruce, internally smirking to himself at Oliver's thinly veiled glare. "Diana would love to meet you, and I'm sure Alfred would be thrilled to have another guest try his famous tiramisu. You don't want to miss it. I'll have the car brought around and drive you myself. Say seven?"

Oliver's jaw flexed, but he nodded, clearly unable to think of a good excuse. "Seven," he said through gritted teeth.

Bruce grinned.

Dinah Lance

"So, who is it?" Helena demanded.

"Who?"

"C'mon, Blondie. The guy who you're freaking out over. We all got guy problems. What's yours?"

Dinah hesitated, then shot her a look. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"

"Hell, no. Not the way I was raised." Helena took a sip of her espresso. "So? Who's the guy? What'd he do?"

Dinah looked away. "Nothing," she said, giving a humorless laugh. "Nothing at all."

Helena raised her eyebrows. "Something you did?"

"Yeah. Something like that. I'd rather not go into it."

Helena snorted, ignoring the furious look on Dinah's face. "You think you're the only one with problems, Blondie? The only one with a sad backstory? Get over it. If he's worth it, go after him. If he's not, then don't. But you can't keep running from your problems. Trust me, I've tried. Either woman up or get out of Gotham, because if you can't handle your own demons, you sure as hell can't handle this city. It will root out your demons and use them to strangle you."

Good night. The woman just spoke her mind. After being around more schmoozing types like Harvey, Helena's straightforward talk was refreshing. Diana was blunt, but nothing like this. Dinah didn't know whether to be offended or amused at Helena's brash response.

"You really don't care about what people think, do you?" Dinah said after a long, startled pause.

Helena shrugged. "Why the hell should I?"

Dinah stared at her, then grinned. "Helena, I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." She held out her cup to the Italian woman.

Helena smirked and clinked cups. "Back atcha." After she sipped her espresso, she asked, "So, you break it off or did he?"

"I did," Dinah admitted. "I got... caught up in a bad situation. Out of my control, but... the consequences were... something he wouldn't be able to handle."

"Dealing drugs? Alcoholic?" Helena eyed her keenly.

"No, nothing like that. It's..."

"I swear, if you say 'it's complicated,' I will shove you out of that chair and make you pay for both our drinks. Capiche?"

Dinah grinned ruefully. "All right. Enough said."

Helena nodded promptly. "Agreed. Come to dinner tonight," she said. "Get your mind off things."

"Dinner?"

"Yep. Dinner at the Waynes is always a great way to put off your problems for a little while, at least. I drop in whenever I can."

Dinah wished her parents were still alive. She had a feeling Diana and her mom would get along famously. Although it was clear Helena had no living relatives of her own, at least she had the Waynes. "You're very close to them, aren't you?"

"Part of the family since I was a kid," Helena said, finishing off her espresso. "They're good people, whatever you may hear about them."

"I can see that," Dinah said. "But I don't want to drop in -"

"I'll shoot Di a text, it'll be fine. Trust me. The more the merrier."

In an effort to do more digging on the cheetah woman, I, along with Artemis, Cass, and quiet Charis, took a trip to the Gotham Museum of Natural History to see if we could find any connection between the cheetah woman and any mythological artifact in the area. Although the Olympians had been silent and uncommunicative, I think they knew how furious I was with their constant interference and that I could handle things myself. Even Hades and Persephone had not attempted to make contact for some time, but I'd been too busy with Dick and Cass to even notice.

But there was an Olympian connection with the cheetah woman. We had to find it. Although I knew Greek history better than anyone, I still could find nothing to connect Athena to the woman. Athena's previous connections with mortal women had been to turn one into a spider and the other into Medusa. Both women had been victims. But this cheetah woman... she was a willing recipient. She had to have a connection with an Olympian, most likely Athena. Or Artemis. Either way, she was bad news.

Artemis, eager to get out of the house, restlessly paced beside me as we walked up the steps to the museum entrance. Charis was on my other side next to Cass, she silently walked, holding Cass's other hand. Aside from spending time with Dick and Cass, which she enjoyed having been without children for centuries, she preferred to either keep company with the equally reserved Myrto or spend time in the Wayne stables with the horses. Mom had always said she was the wisest of the Unspoken, and although it had taken some time to draw Charis out of her shell, I was starting to see just how smart the Amazon was.

Her favorite companion Myrto was also growing restless. She missed the sea. Thankfully Gotham sat right on the ocean, but Myrto needed to get out and spend time there. I was secretly planning a trip to the Bahamas after the wedding, taking the whole family away for a while. But in the meantime, I was scheming to get Myrto to complete a degree in Marine Biology or Marine Mammal Science.

After we got our tickets and maps, we headed towards the ancient artifacts section. Even after a few rounds, nothing stood out to me. But then I came to a case of knives from Ancient Greece. They were all unmarked apart from one - a large, shining knife called a kopis, its hilt adorned with engravings of a snake. No, not a snake... Medusa. One of Athena's symbols.

This knife meant something.

"Can I help you ladies with anything?" We turned to see a woman coming up to us. She wore glasses, a tan blouse and dark skirt, was quite pretty, and carried a British accent.

"I'm curious," I said. "I'm doing my dissertation on Ancient Greek civilization, more specifically Ancient Greek mythology, and I'm curious about this knife. What is the significance of the engraving?"

"Ah," the woman said, her eyes lighting up. "This knife was said to have been used in rare ancient sacrifices to the virgin goddess Athena. The Medusa is one of Athena's most famous symbols. The myth goes..." And she hesitated, seeing Cass. "She turned Medusa into the monster Gorgon when Medusa was... attacked by Poseidon in Athena's temple."

Raped, she meant.

"How noble of her," I said sarcastically.

"Although, myths are conflicting," the woman continued. "Medusa may have been born a monster."

"Incorrect," argued Artemis. "Athena's temple was sacred. She -"

I swiftly elbowed her in the side. "My friend is also a Greek Mythology enthusiast," I said with a falsely bright smile, ignoring Artemis's steady glare.

The employee smiled thinly. "I think ever since the Percy Jackson books came out, people have been getting back into mythology. But it's mostly kids' stuff. We have a children's section, if you want to check that out." She smiled down at Cass.

I squeezed Cass's hand. "We'll definitely take a look at that. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Barbara-Ann," she greeted, shaking my hand. "I'm the museum's curator. Annie is fine."

I studied her carefully; she didn't look threatening. No spots, no feline ears or tail, and no sharpened canines. And why would a museum curator wind up on the streets of Gotham attacking Wonder Woman?

Either way, this whole situation reeked of suspicion. I needed to examine that knife - which meant I'd have to come back and steal it.

"Nice to meet you, Annie," I said. "I'm Diana."

Thoughts?

How is it that I love writing about the side characters and their developing stories almost as much as writing about Diana and Bruce?

Characters run my stories; it's just how I write. :)

Also: I can only picture Justin Hartley as Oliver Queen. He's got Ollie's sense of humor and that dark side down. To all you Arrow fans: As much as I adore Stephen Amell, I really haven't been fond of the way they've written Oliver more like Bruce Wayne than Oliver Queen. Oliver has always been more of a light-hearted character with a great sense of humor in bad situations. Just my opinion.

- Christy