A/N: I've finally overcome writer's block and was able completely finish writing a story before posting. This is something I've been working on for possibly close to a year. Is it perfect, not by a longshot, but it is something in which I challenged myself concerning Superman and Wonder Woman, and becoming comfortable writing from their POVs. As a whole, this story is 20,000+ words that I'm breaking up into three parts. So without further ado, happy reading and thank you so much for selecting this body of work! Feedback is welcomed!
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of their respective owners, and DC Comics. Copyright infringement is not intended.
| Part I |
Like the familiar past time of skipping rocks across a body of water, he was the rock skipping across the pavement, shoulders, hips, knees, and occasionally his head meeting with asphalt until he rolled to a stop next to a pair of over-the-knee bronze boots.
Groaning, he slapped a hand on the cracked road, and slowly lifted his head, vision blurred and out of focus. The salty, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he spat out a wad of it along with pieces of his molar.
"How much pain are you in?"
He coughed, "On a scale of one to ten, I'm at a nine."
"Then you can handle more. On your feet. They're coming."
Some days, Oliver Queen wondered why he tossed himself in the line of fire like this. He was rich! He should be on the beach somewhere sipping Mai Thai's not getting his ass flung like a baseball through the air by a genetically altered metahuman. Or spending his nights in hand-to-hand combat with the city's corrupt and criminally insane.
Then a pair of fishnets and corset would wander past his field of vision, and it would come back to him why he joined the League. Well, one of the reasons he joined the League. He joined primarily to keep the big guns in check, and to help the little people, but also for a pair of great legs and a killer voice, pun intended and not intended.
Another incentive to why he joined stood not a foot away. Looking up, he winced at the glare the sunlight cast off her bronze shield. Six feet and two inches of glorious woman with a heart of gold and a terrifying moral compass, she embodied the moniker given to her. She was a wonder, and she was a woman. Putting those two adjectives together made her unstoppable, admirable, and any dog in the universe would proudly wear her leash.
"Stop gawking, Green Arrow and get on your feet. We have a job to do."
He remained on the ground as she sprang into the air, a battle cry ripping from the depths of her diaphragm. She was a streak of red and gold and when she threw her arm back and released it forward with the teachings of her people's greatest warrior and the god of war himself, the impact of those five fingers connecting with flesh sent Solomon Grundy soaring head over feet into a building that crumbled like a sandcastle.
Trapped civilians who had ducked for cover where they could find shelter, scurried figuring now was the best time to make their way to freedom while Grundy was down.
The world had not stopped spinning for the hulking gray mass of reanimated flesh who grunted and groaned as he tried to unearth himself from the rumble. He worked his jaw around to make sure it was still attached the second the earth stopped moving.
"Grundy no like flying woman," he muttered peevishly, hauling himself out of brick, glass, steel, wood, and electric wires. He didn't like a lot of things, but being punched into buildings was high on his list.
She wasn't in the mood for this. Not today at least. Wonder Woman approached Grundy, ever on the ready. He might seem dazed and out of it, but she knew he possessed the kind of relentless stamina and strength that could have Superman needing to pause for a breath every now and a then.
Don't think about him, Diana.
Unfortunately her mind disobeyed and conjured up more flashes of him. Flashes of him in his new suit.
Who knew getting rid of the red underpants would be a life changer?
Shaking those nebulous thoughts from her mind, and climbing back into the present, Wonder Woman tightened her hand around the hilt of her sword.
Ten feet from Grundy, Wonder Woman was hit from the side and rammed into a parked car. Every window shattered as the car's frame buckled under the impact.
Claws sunk into her neck.
Wonder Woman grimaced expecting to see Cheetah but was slightly surprised it was Catwoman instead.
"I just won a hundred thousand dollar bet. The bet? I could get a hit in."
The League of Doom, as they called themselves, did rotate their roster from time-to-time. Catwoman only joined the fray if it meant flirting with Batman and stealing a diamond big enough to fund a small country. Otherwise she remained in Gotham hitting up jewelry stores, museums, or the private gem collections of the uber wealthy. So it begged the question of what she was doing here. Wonder Woman's suspicion this was a distraction grew exponentially.
The green-eyed woman in skintight vinyl puckered up her lips and blew her an air kiss. Wonder Woman could sense the patronizing one-liner coming, and again, she wasn't in the mood today.
She knew Bruce was…fond of the cat so Wonder Woman found little pleasure in dislocating the thief's shoulder, kicking her legs out from under her, and pinning the woman to the ground with her boot planted firmly on her chest.
Explosions happened around them as she stared down at Catwoman who tried futilely to pry Wonder Woman's foot off her chest.
"I allowed you to get one cheap shot in, Catwoman. You won't be getting another."
"Fuc—"
"I have her, Wonder Woman. They need you on East 57th Street." Green Arrow interrupted the cat's expletive.
Keeping her foot on the scowling woman's chest out of the simple joy of it for another five seconds, Wonder Woman lifted off into the air and left Green Arrow to deal with Grundy and Catwoman.
Hours melted, her sword slashed through the air, her lasso caught the bad guys, and by evening, the skirmish with the Legion of Doom had been contained.
Wiping her brow, Diana stared at the destruction, the debris finding it a reflection of how she had been feeling lately. Fractured. Splintered, sharp edges poking through her skin, passion combusting into fire. The cause…?
Aphrodite's curse, Diana mused.
It was just getting started.
Episode 1
| Jouska – a hypothetical convo that you compulsively play out in your head |
Diana | Amazon| Wonder Woman
Night owl. Wanderlust. She was stalking the moon. Hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat that flowed around her like spilled ink, she went over the steps in her head. The missed moments, the skipped heartbeats, the wide-open mouths that cursed and blessed in equal measure. None of it really made sense. Not this manic kind of veneration that pricked and pulled at her as if trying to rip off her skin; not just to see what lied underneath, but to own a piece she could never get back.
The fervor had not ceased since her arrival. In fact, it had only gotten worse like an untreatable disease. At first, she didn't mind it so much for it filled her with purpose, and she had come here, after all, to fulfill what she couldn't back at home. There was little in the way that difference could be made among a populace who believed, behaved, and thought the same. Sure, they exhibited the usual individualistic traits which fueled the world, but at the heart of things, they were profoundly the same.
And if everything was the same, where would growth ever occur?
How could she explain that to her mother when she was due to see her in a few weeks with the expectation she had made right trillions of wrongs committed since they, the Amazons, abdicated having a place in Man's World?
She had learned quite quickly that men humbled women for sport, and women could internalize and project misogyny like the best of them. There were simply too many centuries of pain to undo, to circumvent with a message about peace, compassion, and truth. A hydra system of subjugation fed supremacy. Get rid of one corrupt leader or failed system, and another would pop up to take their place or was planted. It was a never ending, far-reaching cycle with unimaginable costs.
"Symbols are only good if they're used effectively," she murmured aloud. "For every murder you stop, you missed an assault, rape, a case of child neglect, or domestic violence. Corruption is the oldest constant in the world."
Would her mother understand?
Those worries weren't the only thing plaguing Diana of Themyscira.
Oh. No.
The shame of it, the scandal, it made her cheeks burn. If she breathed a word of it to anyone and it got back to the…to the wrong individual(s) how would she live it down? On the scale of things, it would measure as a small matter to someone who had experience with this sort of thing. But to her, who had little experience with this, it had her freaking the hell out—to use the current vernacular.
And one thing Diana never did was give into fear or run from a fight.
The moon's influence sung in her blood and it burned. Diana cricked her neck to alleviate the tension as she tried to walk at a sedate pace unaware of the lusty sway of her hips. This had happened once before, once she reached full maturity on the island. Everything had gone supernova within her. Heightened senses, heightened sensitivity, hardly anyone could cross her path and not want her. Luckily with their training and fear of their queen's wrath, her sisters had resisted. Diana had suffered in agony for a full week before the fever broke and she was once again clear-headed. It had taken a lot of meditation to control the urges that would have had her scaling the walls looking for a touch that wasn't her own.
"It touches us all, Princess. Why do you think we train as hard as we do? Yes, it's so that we never become soft, remain prepared for anything, and to never forget the horrors we suffered. But also…to be brutally frank, to stave off the need to rut."
Ah, how she missed her dear one Mala.
Diana had had a dream tonight. A dream that chased her from bed and had her walking the streets of Manhattan. The dream, coupled with her duties and the fame attached to being a leaguer had Diana feeling unsettled, peculiar, and a size too big for her skin. She had tried exercising, meditation, listening to white noise. She had even warmed a glass of milk. Nothing worked. She was awake but bothered. Lucid but taut. Restless but eager.
She was coming up on a twenty-four-hour internet café. There was a good size crowd inside. She could head in, waste time scouring the internet until dawn arrived, but she would be recognized. Already Diana could see a gaggle of people striding down the street at this late hour giving her double takes, murmuring, whipping out phones. No one had stopped to ask her if she was the Wonder Woman. That was one of the things she loved about New York or rather the natives of NYC. They didn't care who she was so long as she didn't make her existence an inconvenience.
No, she didn't want to go inside.
Finding an alley, Diana bent her knees a little and shot up to the sky, the wind blowing her long raven locks behind her. She pressed the communicator in her ear, pinging the Watchtower.
"Yes, Diana?"
"Hello, J'onn. It's a slow night tonight. Can you boom me into the watchtower?"
"Acknowledged. Locking on to your signature now."
She disintegrated into rainbow light.
Recognize Wonder Woman. Zero. Three the automated voice announced her arrival. Diana stepped off the platform and sauntered through the monitor womb.
The Watchtower wasn't as quiet as you'd expect it to be. Then again, it never was. Someone was always on duty, from leaguers to auxiliary staff. Currently there were six engineers present, murmuring into headsets as they spoke with colleagues on other levels of the Tower or out in the field.
She nodded up at J'onn. He was busy at the helm viewing multiple holographic screens, each showing a specific sector of Earth—looking for any disturbance or natural disaster the League might need to quell. Red glowing eyes fell on her, and Diana felt the briefest psi-touch, his way of giving her a warm hello.
"Hola, J'onn. How are you, my friend?"
"I am well. You?"
Diana wondered if he could tell and was merely being polite and discreet in not airing what he was probably sensing. Needless to say, Diana went with a safe answer. "I'm well."
"You're not on the roster this week, Diana."
"I know, but there was nothing pressing on my schedule. So I figured now would be a good time to get in a bit of exercise and where else but here?"
"Indeed. Currently Black Canary is occupying The Kitchen. She should be done in the next twenty minutes or so. It won't be slotted for use again until 0900 hours, hence, it'll be free for you to use at your discretion."
"Thank you, J'onn."
Diana made her way to the exit, eyes following in her wake. Hungry eyes. Even the Martian had a difficult time putting his eyeballs back on the screens in front of him. Hmm, maybe I should ask Diana to join me in the commissary to share some Oreos, J'onn contemplated. If you knew J'onn, then you knew he didn't share his Oreos with just anyone. The sooner he finished, the quicker he could…
Another page came through and it was a distraction that made him pause and remember exactly what he should be doing.
J'onn got back to work at the same time Diana swept into the locker room thinking about getting lost in the heat of battle. Her thoughts died an instant death the second she stumbled upon Black Canary.
The woman's hair was damp with sweat, her uniform was disheveled. She watched as Dinah removed her boots, extend, and flex her feet, joints popping. The blonde woman groaned as she stretched the kinks out of her body—or at least tried to.
"Rough day at the office?" Diana quipped.
Dinah's head whipped in her direction. She gave the Amazon a brief once over taking in the fact Diana was not in her armor, but a coat appearing as if she had just popped in after having dinner or drinks. "Not rough enough," she eventually answered. "I'm convinced that Batman is trying to kill us."
"Perhaps one day he will succeed." Dinah gaped which caused Diana to laugh. "That was a bad joke."
"Hmm, all jokes have a grain of truth to them. Anyways, not to sound suspicious but what are you doing here? I saw the roster and you have the week off."
"Couldn't sleep."
"A classic symptom of this life."
"Right, so I came here looking to spar, sweat some of the tension out."
"Do you sweat?" Dinah frowned skeptically.
Diana moved over to her assigned locker. "Ask my dry cleaners and they'll tell you the truth."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Are you up for another round?"
Dinah inwardly winced. The idea of going up against Diana when she was already pooped, aching, tired and in need of several tequila shots made her want to shrivel into a corner and suck her thumb for comfort.
"Can we table the rearrangement of my guts for another day? I've just spent the last three hours in the Kitchen trying to beat Batman's latest training exercise. Failed miserably—no, no, spectacularly!" Dinah arched her spine cracking several vertebrae into place. "Seriously, the man is sadistic."
"Being a native of Gotham yourself, you know what he deals with night after night. His methods, as unpleasant as they can be at times, does help the league."
Dinah rolled her bright blue eyes, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm being dog-walked across the Kitchen."
"It'll save your life."
"Or end it." Dinah bent to rummage through her duffel bag.
Diana cleared her throat and shook the rush of...heat crawling across her skin. Shifting her weight, her thighs rubbed against each other, putting pressure on the bundle of nerves between her thighs. "A-are you," she cleared the frog out of her throat, "are you sure you don't have one more round left in you? I could really use the workout."
Dinah's brow rose at the unusual inflection in Diana's voice. Slowly she stared up at the Amazon and jolted. It was no secret how beautiful Diana was. The most beautiful woman in the universe the pundits and mankind had collectively agreed. Had her skin always been that bronze, her eyes that blue, her hair that black, her lips…that red? Dinah felt hot and flushed and wondered what the hell was going on. It was like someone had turned her into a giant magnet and she was being pulled in one direction.
Using the heel of her hand, Dinah tapped her head. Perhaps she had taken a harder hit to the skull than she initially thought. Closing her eyes, she grabbed the back of her neck, squeezed. "I—ah I wish I could help you, but I really am two seconds away from being utterly useless. Raincheck?"
The heady song in Diana's blood flared higher and she willed Dinah to look at her. Black Canary did, almost reluctantly. The Amazon saw war happening within her teammate, fighting to remain tethered to her spot, fighting to keep boundaries in place. Knowing she was the cause should have made Diana feel ashamed, but she felt strangely triumphant. She took a step in Dinah's direction. The only thing separating them was a bench. Dinah's nostrils flared and she felt summarily trapped but also…eager?
Their eyes widened the second the locker room door swished open and ushered in a junior leaguer who was too busy talking on her communicator to pay them any mind. Dinah and Diana could do nothing but lock gazes as they listened to Naomi open her locker, toss stuff inside her bag, and slam her locker closed a moment later. They didn't breathe until they knew she was gone.
Deafening silence ensued.
Dinah scowled at her fishnets whereas Diana straightened herself and cracked a knuckle.
"I'm sorry," Themyscira's ambassador apologized for what she could not admit to what nearly happened, and got things back on track. "You're declining a sparring match?"
"What the hell was that, Diana?" Black Canary snapped.
Diana, who was a little breathless and blushing, paused before saying, "I rather not say."
"One second I was totally fine and the next…"
"Dinah, let it go," Diana said with finality. "It's for the best."
Dinah wanted to argue the point, but Diana hit her with the obstinate Amazon look. She would heed her unspoken warning and let it go. For now. "Fine. On that note, guess I'll take myself home."
"You should stop by the infirmary for a checkup before you depart."
"I've had worse injuries than this, believe me. Besides, I know how to patch myself up. An ice bath, a thousand milligrams of ibuprofen, ten hours of sleep and I'll be right as rain."
"Go easy on the painkillers," Diana warned. "It can have an adverse effect on your liver."
"So can the shots I'm about to down, but I know." Dinah grimaced as she bent slightly to pick up her gym bag. "Goodnight, boss." She tossed up a lazy wave and made as hasty of a retreat as she could without being too obvious about it.
"Rest well, Dinah," Diana murmured softly. Alone, she slumped against the lockers. That had been too close. She swallowed her disappointment at herself and maybe even for the missed opportunity. That would have been a slippery slope with no guarantee of reciprocation. Even if Dinah had given a greenlight, the choice wouldn't have been hers explicitly. Her free will had been…influenced and Diana was not one to take advantage of someone who was not a 100% cognizant of their actions.
That was not her way, her style, her thing. This…this…this phase, this flux would end. In the meantime, she had to keep it together and stay as far away from the others as she possibly could.
Diana slammed her locker shut deciding not to change into workout attire after all. She spun until her clothing ebbed away and revealed her armor.
Off to the Kitchen it was in order to knock her head back on straight.
Episode 2
| Altschmerz – weariness with the same old issues that you've always had |
Clark | Kal-El| Superman
He wouldn't say he was limping. More like consciously moving carefully. It sounded much better than what was obviously very apparent while making his way through the boom tunnel. There was a hitch in his side, a subcutaneous throbbing that hadn't gone away when it should have considering he took a hit to his kidneys three hours ago. Word on the street was that Superman didn't feel pain. Ha, he thought. Tell that to his ribs, which found themselves on the wrong end of a bounty hunting Czarnian.
Superman scowled.
Clutched in his possession was one of Lobo's severed arms. The man of steel refused to view it as a souvenir, but more of a scientific specimen to be studied. Plus, he knew Bruce would want to get his hands on samples to study the anatomy of an alien like Lobo. Figure out some crafty way to halt his regenerative abilities to give them an edge.
Superman held up the arm almost tempted to shake it to make the hand flop around. Sheesh, when have I become so morbid? he pondered and the minute he entered the monitor womb, his stomach growled. Loudly. The sound carried throughout the entire Watchtower making heads turn in his direction. His cheeks warmed and he frowned at his audience, prompting them to dart their attention back to their monitors. Well, that explained partly why he was feeling peculiar.
"Hungry?"
"I think that's more than obvious. I can't eat just yet. I have this specimen to log and then a report to write," Superman replied to J'onn. He'd also like to shower because he had gone through a couple of condemned buildings, and he was positive he was covered in minute traces of asbestos. It wouldn't look good to give the night crew mesothelioma.
"Hmm. Lobo is in custody?"
"John is taking him to Oa as we speak."
"You took out four buildings, Kal-El, and thirty cars have been completely demolished."
I'm aware of that J'onn, I was there, Superman projected to which the Martian's red eyes glowed. Out loud he said, "I tried to minimize the damage as much as I could, but Lobo doesn't give a damn about private property. I'll issue my usual formal apology with a continued promise of looking out for peoples' safety. Until there's a national and international compensation department to reimburse victims of property damage, there's not much else I can do." I certainly can't afford to pay to get them new cars. My name's not Bruce Wayne or Oprah Winfrey.
It was not lost on J'onn that Superman was sounding unusually sardonic. Hunger couldn't be the sole culprit. Thankfully there hadn't been any fatalities so what was the reason? Though he was tempted to sift through Superman's thoughts to find the source of his particular attitude, he never liked invading the minds of his friends without due cause. Yet it was more than apparent that a bug of some sort had crawled up Superman's ass. Work related probably—the Martian surmised. Or maybe being Leonidas kicked through four buildings on an empty stomach would do that to a man.
Unbeknownst to the two aliens, the civilian workers looked between the pair of them wondering what was going to happen next in this stare-down they were engaged in. Tension started to unfurl, and hands were slipping underneath desks readying to press that good ole panic button.
Superman heard the symphony of increased heart beats and finally blinked. Shaking his head, he slapped on a disarming smile and turned to leave. "If there's nothing else…keep up the good work people."
He left the monitor womb in a flourish.
J'onn studied the exit for a minute before resuming his duties. Earth raised Kryptonians, he snorted.
Alone in the corridor, Superman's red boots stomped along steel tile while his cape displaced the regulated air. His shoulders moved in concert with his hips, even as he shrugged his aching shoulder, biting down a groan of pain. He moved purposely, but then shook his head a moment later. What was going on with him? He didn't mean to be short with J'onn, but having the damage his grudge match with Lobo caused thrown in his face, pressed a button.
He tried to shake off what was festering right there under his skin as he made his way to the lab. It wasn't budging. Besides, wasn't he entitled to having a bad day? It wasn't easy trying to live up to everyone's assumed concept of who he was all the time and not lose himself in the process. He liked being useful—sure, but he also liked having a life that had nothing to do with being a superhero. Finding the balance between the two was becoming more difficult the longer he did this, but he couldn't quit. Couldn't abandon what he felt was his destiny just because he hadn't been on a date in ages and hadn't gotten laid even longer.
Superman's cheeks burned. It felt impertinent to think about personal matters and such…inconsequential ones at that in the Tower. But dammit, he was a man. Lobo may have gotten into his head with his taunts earlier. Taunts about his manhood, about how his punches felt like he was being tickled with a baby's fist, how his balls were probably as blue as his uniform. Stupid, grade school taunts, yet had apparently been effective.
He couldn't ignore that part of himself even if he could exert Supermanium levels of control over his baser desires. It was a hardwired part of his humanity, and if he ignored it, Superman felt like he was ignoring a very important part of himself.
Desire. It was beating on his door, demanding to be let in, but unfortunately there was no one standing on the other side who could give Superman what he needed even if Clark had simpler needs. Lois paid him dust. Lana was weary of his abilities. Cat Grant was too thirsty, and Lori was in the bottom of the ocean and married to another man. His options were limited even if his abilities were limitless.
Suddenly he felt the force of something slamming into one of the Tower's walls putting his slight pity party on hold. He knew those vibrations very well. Diana. She was in the Kitchen and Superman wondered who she was pummeling or what program she was running.
Diana, he found his thoughts sticking on her for a second.
Later. Lab—first, report—second, and food—third.
Episode 3
| Kuebiko – a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence |
Fresh scratch marks from her sword decorated the walls. Electrical wires poked out like broken bones from decimated bots that twitched occasionally. The air had a coppery smell to it, a sure sign something had been fried. The revered Kitchen was now an A.I. battlefield in which the casualties would be recycled and retrofitted to survive going up against the baddest woman in the universe in the future. Looks like she would have to dig into Themyscira's coffers to pay for the damages this go around.
The whoosh of the hydraulic doors opening barely caught her ear, but she knew who was joining her. A gravitational force had just entered the room.
Wonder Woman sat with her back against the wall, slightly panting, her legs drawn up and her arms resting on her knees. Red boots filled her view before a cold bottle of water was stretched out to her. She glanced up at Superman and took the proffered bottle.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Superman looked around at the destruction, "Lousy workout?"
"It was decent."
He sat down next to her and unwrapped a protein bar. He offered Diana a bite. She accepted, taking the bar from him, and chomping off a big portion.
"It tastes like sawdust," she mouthed around the bar that made her cheek poke out like a chipmunk.
"How is it any different from the millet you live by?"
Diana let out a squawk of disbelief. "Bite your tongue. Millet is delicious."
"Says someone clearly from the second century." Superman nearly tipped over from the punch Diana delivered to his arm. He rubbed the spot, "Mm, ouch!"
"You deserve worse." She continued chewing and finally swallowed. "Are you done with patrol?"
"For now unless another emergency pops up. You know how it goes. This job doesn't give breaks." Superman peeled back the wrapper to expose more of the protein bar that he made a show of biting into, and added a moan of approval for equal measure. "You're technically off so what are you doing here, Diana?"
"The question everyone asks and one I struggle to answer. It is complicated."
"I have time for you to uncomplicate it for me."
"You could use a shower, Kal." Diana's nose wrinkled.
"Are you saying I smell?"
"No…it's just that I can smell Czarian blood on you. Had your annual run-in with Lobo, I presume?"
Superman sighed, "You would be correct." He winced a moment later.
"You're injured."
"It's nothing."
"If you of all people grimace that means it's serious. Did he use magic, red solar power, or kryptonite against you?"
Superman felt his ire rising to the surface. "No," he nearly growled. "He got in a couple of cheap shots that I wasn't prepared for. An hour or more in sunlight and I'll be as good as new."
"Are you sure he hasn't injected you with something? Stabbed you?"
"I'd know if I was stabbed. Injected…" Superman x-rayed himself and his cells so far appeared normal. "No, I haven't been injected with anything."
"That you know of," Diana intoned. "Perhaps you should head to the fortress and have Kelex run a diagnostic as a precaution just to rule everything out. Lobo has access to tech we don't. He could have found—"
"All right, Diana. Sheesh, I don't know who is more worrisome, you or Ma."
"Ma Kent is one of the wisest women I know. I'm happy to be in her company."
"I'll be sure to tell her that the next time I go for a visit. She'd like to see you. Pa as well. It's been a while."
"Yes," Diana murmured quietly, "it has been."
"She wondered why you stopped coming by. I gave her the usual spiel about you being busy with your duties. Yet it's a question I've asked myself a time or two." Superman glanced at her expectantly.
Diana gulped from the bottle of water until it was nearly empty. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stalled by screwing the cap back on the bottle and extending her legs.
She had loved visiting with Clark's parents in Smallville. Being mothered by Ma Kent was one of the few joys the Amazon had to look forward to, a piece of her life she didn't have to make public in order to spread a message of peace. Plus, Ma Kent's love was vastly different from the love Diana's own mother bestowed on her. Not to say her mother was never affectionate or was cold. It's just that she could be at ease in Smallville where perfection and excellence was not expected of her at all times.
"It's like you said, Kal. I've been busy with my duties."
"The Diana I know always makes time for things that matter. For people who matter."
Now he was trying to make her feel guilty.
However, there was another reason Diana began limiting her visits to the Kent farm. It was the Kents persistent yet thinly veiled suggestions she court their son which made her shy away. The last thing Diana wanted to do was give them false hope. She liked Kal, loved him as a friend, but Diana was also painfully aware that the Kents pride and joy…well his heart belonged to another.
She wasn't sure of his status with his reporter friend Lois Lane. Kal was so secretive about his feelings despite wearing them on his sleeve 99% of the time. However, Diana was able to deduce what Lois meant to her dear friend. There was a slight devotion there even if it was one-sided with Kal doing most of the heavy lifting. She sighed inwardly. Kal wanted Lois. No one else need apply.
At times it was hard to remember that. Like at the present moment with him sitting nearly shoulder-to-shoulder next to her. When they were scheduled for duty at the same time and he'd seek her out; freaking out anytime she got injured in the field; or stopping by the embassy or her room on the Tower to give her little gifts of things she liked or something that made him think of her.
It also didn't hurt he was a striking specimen that made her consciously aware of the fact he was a man, and she was a woman. No one had arms, a chest, or shoulders like Kal. But again, Diana tried to be as neutral towards her teammates as she possibly could.
The fever chose this inopportune time to stir again.
So much virility sat literally within reaching distance. Sparring had staved off the worst of the symptoms, but the longer she sat next to Superman, the more it was returning and bringing company along with it.
Diana's knuckles cracked at the force of balling her fingers into a fist. No, she couldn't and wouldn't go down that road. Not with Kal, not with anyone. She would just have to ride out this wave of arousal in absolute solitude back at the embassy. Besides, what would it look like if she suddenly propositioned him? Half the league believed she was either a repressed virgin, asexual, lesbian or a combination of all three, while the others figured she still harbored an infatuation with Batman.
Hmm, Bruce. Nope. Diana inwardly shook her head. He had made it pointedly clear his issues made him unsuitable time and time again.
Superman stiffened a little. He hadn't noticed this until now. A certain aroma was coming from a certain 6'2" bronze skinned warrior. Perhaps the reason he hadn't picked up on it before was because of the source and the fact it was his first time detecting such a…delectable fragrance from Diana.
Was it time for a march down memory lane? Superman adjusted himself on the hard steel floor as he recalled the first time he laid eyes on Diana and feeling a jolt to his chest so strongly he lost altitude. Some might assume the cause of his heart palpitating was because she had a face that would make angels weep and near perfect dimensions. Good reasons but not the full picture (although admittedly it factored into about 89% of why he had gaped at her like a cornfed hillbilly), it was the fact she could fly. Like him.
During the battle with the Metal Men, this flying woman was catching cars like they were frisbees and throwing them like footballs. She was swooping in to save scared children and frightened old ladies, and disarmed the perps without breaking a sweat. She had smiled at him, and it made him dizzy, lightly touched his shoulder and his toes had curled.
No one knew, of course, with maybe the exception of Batman. For the Batman never missed a thing.
A corner of Superman's lips lifted in a smile at the comment Bruce had muttered to him before hopping in his batplane to fly back to Gotham: You don't stand a chance.
At first Superman had taken that as a challenge. Diana certainly hadn't disguised her interest in Bruce, yet the dark knight rebuffed any and all attempts at deepening their working relationship whereas his friendship with Diana grew and flourished.
"Gah, I can't believe that was nearly ten years ago."
"What can't you believe was ten years ago?" Diana raised a brow in his direction.
Superman inwardly cringed. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Uh, that you and I met."
Diana counted up the days, weeks, and months. "You're right. It feels like it's been forever, but it also feels like it was yesterday."
"You were such a novice back then," Superman laughed.
Diana sniffed, "You weren't much better. Your fighting technique left a lot to be desired. Strength means nothing if you don't know how to best utilize it. So many times you left yourself wide open for a counterattack, it was like watching a child fight."
"Sheesh, Diana. Can you get your boot off my fragile male ego?"
"How else can I strengthen that ego if I don't crush it in order to build it back up properly? I'll concede you've come a long way. Although I still believe you should learn how to handle weapons."
"I am a weapon."
"So am I, Kal but I know how to use more than just my speed, flight, and fists."
It was the same old argument, and one Superman wasn't in the mood to repeat. "You use what works for you and it's the same for me. You're never going to convert me in that regard."
"We'll see."
"You're incorrigible."
"Infuriatingly willful as my mother would describe me."
"That too…Seriously though, I know we won't ever see eye-to-eye on me using weapons, but when we're out in the field, there's no one I trust more than you to do what I sometimes can't do."
Diana refused to admit she was preening. "Are you saying you trust me more than Bruce?"
"You know Bruce and I butt heads on how to handle situations, but we'll always strive to do what's best for the League. Even if our methods of getting there seems like oil and water. You and I…you understand my heart better."
The two heroes looked at one another then. Ultramarine staring into sky-blue. They had these moments of candor typically before or after a battle. It had been a while since they spoke like this, reminding them of how long they had known each other. How well they respected the other. How much they…
The hydraulic doors of the Kitchen swooshed opened startling the duo. Superman climbed to his feet and put a modicum of space between himself and Diana. She angled her head to stare up at him. If he were interpreting what he was seeing in her gaze, she was letting him know this conversation was far from over.
"Oh, hey guys. What's shaking?"
"Hello, Mari." Diana got to her feet and wiped off her backside.
Mari Jiwe McCabe tilted her head to the side as she propped a hand on her hip. Seeing Superman and Wonder Woman together was not a strange or rare sight. Still it always gave one a moment of pause. The air which surrounded them, on top of their reputations, could have even the most seasoned crime fighters feeling, well, inadequate. There was power and then there was power. Those two were leagues unto themselves; however, knowing they were the kindest and most down-to-earth people often created a confusing dichotomy. "You two just finished sparring?"
Superman balled the protein wrapper in his hand as he made his way to the door, "Not exactly. Just engaging in a little small talk between emergencies. You know how it goes."
"That I do."
"And on that note, we'll get out of your way. Is someone joining you?"
Just as Diana finished asking that question, a woman with large wings and a hawk shaped helmet appeared. "I am."
Superman's eyebrow rose. This was going to be interesting. John Stewart's current flame going up against his previous one. "Though this place is designed to withstand even one of my hardest hits…please be gentle."
"Ha, ha, Kryptonian. Any other advice you want to impart before Vixen and I try to mop the floor with each other? Ugh after it's been cleaned." Hawkgirl spied the destroyed bots.
"Yes," Diana chimed in, "'attack is the secret of defense; defense is the planning of an attack.'"
"Thank you, Sun Tzu." Vixen bowed.
Hawkgirl covered up her chortle with a balled fist to her lips.
"C'mon, Diana. I need a real meal and could use some company. Join me in the commissary?"
"Fine. Good night, sisters."
"Night," Vixen and Hawkgirl chorused as they watched Wonder Woman and Superman's retreating backs for a moment before looking at one another.
"A hundred bucks he'll finally ask her out within the next six months," Hawkgirl bartered.
"Deal but I say it'll be another year before Superman gets a clue."
And yes, he heard every word they said.