I didn't intend for this to be continued, but I received an astonishing amount of feedback, most of it asking for a sequel. So, graciously, I took some time from writing my multi-million dollar screenplay...
(The Server apologises for this break in the message. The overwhelming laughter from friends, family, and complete strangers at the last comment has interrupted the author's ability to write, and service will recommence when he has retrieved his machete from under the house beside the decapitated bodies.)
...as I was saying, I decided to write another, mainly because I need the practice, and I had a few ideas for Alfred. If you can't tell, I really like the character.
Dedicated to Michael Gough, the last bastion of sanity within the dying days of the Batman movie franchise. It also helps that he appeared twice on Doctor Who, my favourite show.
***
The Unusual Mission; the Aftermath.
By Adrian Tullberg.
Synopsis; The Morning after. They're still trying to work out what happened. Unfortunately, so is everybody else.
Bruce couldn't sleep, mentally replaying the last few minutes of his date. He got up, re-did his whole patrol over again, caught three amateur break-and-enters, suspended two midnight peepers by the ankles from a seven story drop, and intercepted four drink-drivers - although his method of 'ram them into the embankment' would probably be considered excessive. After that, he interrogated his usual gamut of snitches, and terrorised every inmate in Blackgate's Lifer Wing. When the sun came up, he engaged in a twenty mile run, finished with his usual punishing workout routine, which would kill any normal man. He managed five hours sleep.
Diana slept badly. She got up twenty-three times in the night, pacing and muttering, until she started practicing kata, and various formations, ad nauseam until the sun tinged the horizon. Only then, did she sleep fitfully, muttering about getting cable or a Playstation.
Although both were confused about what had happened between them, they had hoped that whatever it was could be dealt with quietly, and anonymously.
Unfortunately, they lived in a telecommunications world, where information, given the incentive, can be distributed around the planet at the speed of light.
Celebrity is possibly the foremost incentive on the planet.
***
Cassie Sandsmark opened her eyes, yawning blearily. She hoisted herself out of bed, stretching and scratching, heading for the bathroom, noting that Artemis was already gone. No matter how early Cassie got to bed, she never saw the warrior sitting all night at the foot of her bed, and would never catch the redheaded Amazon waking.
Ten minutes later, she headed to the kitchen, to see her mother bustling around, as per normal...
... and Superboy, Robin, Arrowette and Impulse seated at the table, tucking into a large array of pancakes.
"What's going..."
Her mother shushed her. "They wanted to see you about something, and I invited them for breakfast. Now get moving, remember it's a school day."
Cassie glowered at her mother. She probably insisted that the members of Young Justice stay so that she could get a good look at Superboy ... it wasn't a secret that she had a little (yeah, right!) crush on him, and mom probably wanted to use the opportunity to give him the third degree.
She sat down, pushing back her blonde hair, wishing that they had given her some time to get ready - nothing killed your image in front of your friends quicker than them seeing you in nothing but your oversized Care Bear T-shirt and fluffy bunny slippers.
Artemis was sitting as far away from the new people as possible, slowly chewing on some fruit. Even though she kept on insisting on rising earlier than anybody else, Artemis was not, and never would be, a morning person.
"Okay guys, what's so important?"
"I wish I knew." Muttered Robin. "I spent all night patrolling, looking for carjackers. These three..." he jabbed a finger at the grinning Arrowette and Superboy, and the blurring Impulse "...said if I didn't know, then I should wait until you were told..."
"Welll...." Said Arrowette, drowning her pancakes with what looked like half the bottle of syrup. "...we wanted to know what you thought about this..."
With a dramatic flourish, Superboy threw down a copy of The Gotham Gazette, folded to what looked like a colour insert of the society pages. She saw Diana, wearing the kind-of-okay red dress she kept, even though Cassie kept on suggesting - okay, begging - for them to go on an incredible shopping trip. Diana was on the arm of some really gorgeous-looking guy, six foot plus and looked all muscle...
Robin must have recognised him because he gave a strangled 'eep' and tightened his grip on the fork, making it shoot out of his glove and clatter on the ground.
"I knew she didn't know!"
"Hey, Rob, you know him?"
"Tha ... that's ... he's Bruce ... Bruce Wayne." His expression was that of unabashed shock.
Impulse stopped eating/drinking/searching the house for stuff to do and looked at Robin's face. He wondered how you could make your mouth move like that while not drooling - although it looked like he was going to soon.
"Who's Bruce Wayne?" said Arrowette, using one of her bolts to spear five pancakes at once, and attempt to eat then like a shish kebab of batter.
"Richestguyingothamwowhe'sreallyrichmaybeyou'regoingtogetmoneyCas!"
"So, she went out once with Bruce Wayne, big deal." Stated Superboy, who was on his twelfth pancake.
"So? He's rich, really sexy ... I mean, wouldn't you go out with him, if you were a girl?"
"Cassie ... never, ever, ask a guy that question, okay?"
"But..."
"Never."
"It's just..."
"Never. Ever."
"Don't you..."
Superboy made a 'zip it' gesture, making Cassie sit back, annoyed.
Robin picked up the newspaper, and started scanning through the article, feeling a little numb.
His dad saying that he was going to get married didn't cause this kind of reaction. Then again, his father had been going out with Dana for a while. Perhaps he'd better call Bruce...
Then again, better not. He still hadn't quite told him about his relationship with the Spoiler, complicated as that was. Besides ... if there was anything to it, he'd tell him, wouldn't he?
Robin really hoped Alfred would clue him in.
A red-and-white blur suddenly started rifling through the kitchen, Helena Sandsmark could only watch as Impulse, super-speedster, video-game fanatic, and poster boy for Attention Deficit Disorder started ruining last weekend's cleaning frenzy.
Robin's voice was muffled as his face was nearly touching the table surface. "Impulse - put everything, and I mean everything back where you found it."
The blur stopped, revealing a fourteen-year-old with an incredible shock of hair and enormous feet. The blur appeared again - and the kitchen was back as it was before.
"Maybe she's doing it for his money." Stated Superboy, peering over Robin's shoulder.
"Kon! She's a Princess!" snapped Cassie. "She doesn't need money!"
"I heard that she had to work in a Taco joint."
"That was years ago! Before you were born, okay!"
"Where's Bart?"
Suddenly he appeared, with five plastic shopping bags full of...
"HeywhowantsPringles?"
"You've been raiding the petty cash tin again?" muttered Robin, wondering wether it was worth the effort of re-hiding the strongbox every week if Impulse was always going to find and raid it within seconds.
"Who can eat Pringles for breakfast?" muttered Arrowette, pulling a face.
Artemis had been surreptitiously reading over the shoulder of Robin along with Superboy. She left the kitchen without a word.
"Hey, look, I don't know what this is about, but I'm definitely going to ask Diana when I see her next. I promise to keep you guys clued in, okay?"
"Maybe you shouldn't." stated Helena, briskly entering the room while checking her handbag. "If Diana wants to tell you about her private life, she'll tell you in her own time. In the meantime, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong." She looked at her watch. "Unless you want to fly to school, you'd better get moving."
"I like flying to school." Stated Cassie, with as much dignity as she can muster. "No rush hour, great views, and no carjacking. Tell her how dangerous carjacking is, Robin."
"Not to mention the enormous prestige factor in giving your friends rides to school, Mrs. Sandsmark. You have no idea how many favours you can rack up just by giving a five-minute ride. Better than a ton of Pokemons." Added Superboy.
"She takes the bus like everybody else. Now get moving."
Cassie grumbled all the way to her room. Superboy and Arrowette got up. "Er, we've got to get going, Mrs Sandsmark..."
Suddenly the red and white blur span around the table, taking every plate and utensil. Water was already waiting, and agitated to near boiling point. The dishes were vibrated until the dirt fell off, the resulting kinetic energy steaming off the water as they were placed in the rack. Impulse stood in the middle of the room, grinning inanely.
"ThanksforthepancakesMrsSandsmarkI'veneverhadthembefore." With that, he zoomed off.
Arrowette, Superboy and Robin made their goodbyes as they left, Helena noting that they were unusually rushed.
Once they were outside and heading for their outsize motorcycle, Superboy whispered in Robin's ear. "What do you think Bart's done?"
"I don't know, don't want to know, but I bet she's going to find out any second..."
An enraged shriek enemated from the house.
The three teenage heroes ran like hell.
***
Artemis shook Diana awake, roughly.
The Amazon Princess muttered as she slowly awoke. "....I will not take any more questions on the purported resemblance between me and Lara Croft ..."
"What are you talking about?"
"Eh?" Diana's mind slowly booted up. "Oh. Sorry. Recurring dream." Her jaw cracked wide open as she yawned. "Remind me to talk to J'onn about that."
"You did not tell me."
"It's just a silly dream..."
"Not the dream!"
"Then what?"
The redhead's voice was as cold as a blade's edge. "That you would be seen cavorting with Wayne all night."
Artemis produced a newspaper - she used some of the little money hoarded away to purchase the same copy of the Gotham Gazette she had seen, and opened it roughly to the society pages.
Diana rubbed her eyes as she read the paper. The shot was when she had turned to the other side of the paparazzi, half-blinded by the strobing flashes.
"They didn't get my best side." She stated blankly.
"I'm not concerned about your appearance - your 'image' is the issue at hand."
Diana gave Artemis a pleading look. "Is there any chance of breakfast?"
"You are seen as nothing more than the ... the attachment of the rich elite of this nation's capital of crime! An accessory! A symbol of..."
"I hope you've finished." Stated Diana, her anger beginning to rise. "Let's analyse this report, shall we? Starting with the banner ... ah yes; WAYNE AND THE WONDER. Completely denigrates me and my mission. Not to mention the body of the article itself ... 'a bastion of charm and grace' ... 'a breath of fresh air within the hallowed halls of Gotham society' ... 'Wayne was the most fortunate man in the city'. The damage to us is irreversible, we have to return to Themyscira immediately."
Artemis snatched the paper from Diana, walking around the large circular bed. "We can only hope that some new scandal breaks out quickly, distracting the media from your little flight of fancy."
Diana got out of bed, intent on finding water. "Possibly."
"What do you mean, possibly? When the agents of the media find that you are not pursuing Wayne, they will find another fresh scandal, and devote their energies to investigating Bill Clinton once again. The way Man's World works is very simple once you..." she trailed off. "You only were intending to be seen with Wayne that one time, weren't you?"
Diana shifted away from Artemis' fresh glare. "That was the plan."
Artemis slowly stalked up to Diana, fingers curling into sharp spikes of bone and sinew. "But now..."
"I found that there was ... something besides what I had seen before."
Artemis was virtually nose to nose with Diana, expression blank. "Did he seduce you?"
"No." stated Diana. "There was no attempt."
You wouldn't have minded if he tried, would you? A little imp spoke in her ear.
Artemis' voice dropped several degrees. "Perhaps he is laying a trap for you to fall into." Her voice became a hiss. "You already have one foot in the pit."
The Amazon warrior turned around, intent on exiting. "It's obvious you're too emotionally involved to think straight. I will deal with Wayne myself. You can thank me later."
Artemis attempting to intimidate Batman. However, if she was intent on just more than scaring Bruce...
"Listen to me Artemis - what is going on between me and ... Bruce Wayne..." she was still trying to come to terms with the situation "... remains that; between us. You will not interfere. Physically, mentally, spiritually, directly, indirectly."
Artemis stopped, then looked at her sister, exasperated. "Very well."
"Swear it."
Her expression turned to incredulousness. "Are you mad?!?"
"Hardly."
Artemis tried to stare down Diana ... but failed. "Very well. You have my word that if that oaf hurts you ... in any manner possible, I will not intervene ... unless asked."
"Good." Diana started changing into her uniform. "Bruce Wayne is not an oaf, however."
"I shall retain my opinion until evidence to the contrary presents itself." Stated Artemis.
"He finds me ... intriguing."
"You have only proven he has eyes. Why should you court the attentions of one who only has his wealth to proclaim?" Artemis started stalking back and forth across the chambers. "The 'Superman' ... I would have thought that on 'Man's World', he was the only potential warrior."
Diana took a breath as she fastened her belt. "You think like Maxima."
"Who?"
"Never mind. Superman has found his mate. A long time ago."
"Ah. You wish to make him jealous by publicly courting Wayne." A tactic Artemis often saw on 'Ricki Lake'.
Diana closed her eyes and counted to ten ... slowly. "Can you entertain the possibility that I find Bruce ... potentially suitable, without some ulterior motive?"
"Considering what I know of him, not for any reason whatsoever. Diana, he is not a suitable mate."
"Maybe you're right." Diana stated. She walked towards the armory, Artemis following. "Maybe he's totally unsuitable for me. The fact remains..." she suddenly turned, and rounded on the redhead. "...I don't know, one way or the other. I saw something in him last night that might mean 'yes'. And I intend to pursue that possibility."
"Just because..."
"A hunter does not abandon a trail. She pursues her game until she finally corners ... and traps it."
Comprehension dawned for the single-minded warrior. "I find it hard to believe that you can find a quality in such a...retard."
Diana placed her hand over her mouth to cover the laughter beginning to well up. "I'm ... I'm beginning to wonder ... about your vocabulary, Artemis."
The warrior turned away in a huff. Waiting for Cassie, being left alone for hours every day, and having an animosity with machinery that bordered on a blood feud left her with very little to do but become intimately aquatinted with the wonders of daytime television. If Diana would not appreciate her efforts to acclimatise to 'Man's World', so be it.
***
Alfred entered the large house, locking the doors behind him. After getting Tim prepared for school, he would travel back to Wayne Manor to perform his general duties. Since the great Batman could not even touch an oven or a washing machine without a major disaster occurring, he rediscovered the joys of cross-city commuting and drive time radio.
Since Master Bruce spent most of the day sleeping off a hard night of terrorising the criminal community, Alfred didn't see much of him unless his presence was specifically required.
As Alfred entered the study, the sight of his employer sitting down, facing the grounds, made him frown. "Good morning sir."
Bruce looked automatically at a clock. "Is it?"
Alfred nodded, bustling around the study. "Master Tim read the papers this morning. He's very curious as to what happened concerning your ... occasion with Miss Diana. Although he's trying very hard not to show it."
A dry chuckle from the figure in the chair. "I'd like to know myself."
"Seems fairly obvious to me, sir."
"Is it?" Bruce got up, and started pacing back and forth. "We both admitted to being lonely, with nothing but our missions to keep us occupied. Maybe it was the moment ... or ... maybe she has a power to attract males to her that I haven't found out about yet." Finished Bruce, noting that this was probably the lamest excuse he had ever given in history.
If Alfred ever shared his thoughts, he didn't show it. "In my experience, it's a quality, rather than an artificial ability, that only exceptional women possess."
Bruce turned around, then slumped into the overstuffed chair, more confused than ever before - even the Riddler's worst didn't cause him this much trouble. At least there was a guarantee of a solution at the end.
Alfred placed his duster down, and sat across from Bruce, looking him directly in the eye.
"In my experience, one night out and a kiss goodnight does not indicate either a tragedy or a happy ending." He gave a tight smile. "It does, however, mean that you have an opportunity to find out, one way or the other."
"Should I ... do I have the right?"
"One of the many excuses...my apologies, reasons, you have given me for not pursuing a woman is that your lifestyle prevented her living in relative safety. It appears that someone who can trade blows with Mr. Kent is not easily intimidated, or killed."
"Even so..."
"Master Bruce..." Alfred's gentle tone was more direct than a parade ground bellow. "Not only is she a grown woman, but an accomplished warrior. The question is not can she, but will she?"
Alfred got up, and took the tray. "Perhaps you're reading too much into it ... she may have already decided that being courted by an overprotective individual with paranoid tendencies just isn't worth the bother, and have decided to find someone less zealous in his outlook. Perhaps that nice Mr. Curry would be interested?"
"If you're looking for a polar opposite to me, then Arthur is not it. You'd be better off with..."
"Very well, Master Bruce, let me put it to you as simply as possible: Is she worth pursuing?"
Bruce looked up at his surrogate father; with as close an expression of desperation that Alfred had ever seen. "Well ... yes. But..."
"I suggest you replace that dress for starters. The number of the designer is on the table. About to jet off to Paris, but might be agreeable to commute to Gateway for the right sum - and the chance to dress another celebrity. Next to it is my best guess as to her measurements..." Alfred was, when he wanted to be, more ruthless than Shiva. "...I might be off by an inch or two, it's been a while since I had to attire a woman." A brief pause. "Almost as long as you've gotten your hands on one, I dare say."
Alfred left the room, knowing nothing killed the dramatic impact quicker than somebody stealing the last word. Besides, he had laundry to do.
Bruce looked at the notepad, then numbly started punching in the numbers. He almost slammed the phone down when someone answered, but made his request. The bartering and agreement were done on automatic pilot.
This wasn't the first time he'd done this. When a society belle admitted a love for the Stones, Bruce bought and had delivered a vinyl copy of their first album the very next day. Dumped her the next week.
Treat it like all the other times you've got a girl something. It's not a concern.
Oh, this isn't like the other times, is it? She knows your secret; the others had no clue whatsoever, just as you wanted them to. You've fought alongside her; the others just played tennis. Most importantly, you've shared something with this one, but kept the others at arms distance.
You never thought she'd be more than an ally, at best. Now your relationship has radically changed.
Bruce sat down again, looking at the daylight playing around the grounds - for him, an alien sight.
Forget propriety. Forget what J'onn, Arthur and even what Clark will think and say.
Is she worth pursuing?
***
Wonder Woman flew down, and entered the Federal Building below her, entering through the roof exit. Ever since she'd taken up residence in Gateway, the UN had occupied a floor, keeping a small staff there to keep her updated on world events, and a place to store her teleport tube. She checked in there once a day to get the latest intelligence reports. Although they weren't as accurate as ... say, Clark scanning the planet from low orbit, they gathered the occasional tidbit of data that might become useful later.
Just as she was about to close the door, she heard; "Hey, Diana! Wait for me!"
She sighed, keeping the door open as Cassie flew in. "How was school?"
"A direct violation of the laws of physics - it blew and sucked at the same time. Why didn't you tell me you had a date?"
The Amazon and her charge walked into the offices, the three secretaries, the army intelligence liaison and the DEO officer stood up, giving their various greetings. They presented their briefs to Diana - consisting of handing over written reports, which she would read, sign, and hand back (most of the material was rated top secret) while they witnessed the affair.
Cassie, not old enough to vote, let alone hold a security rating, was gently escorted to the other side of the office, where she pouted while watching Oprah Winfrey.
Since it was a slow day, it took Diana twenty minutes to get through the material. She walked over to Cassie. "You were saying something?"
Cassie muted the volume eagerly. "Yeah! Bruce Wayne, rich hunk, and you didn't tell me?"
Diana spotted two of the secretaries and the DEO officer stop what they were doing and try very hard not to look like they were eavesdropping. The army liaison had gone to the bathroom as soon as she'd finished with his material.
The elder woman took a deep sigh. Although she had agreed to preserve Bruce's identity with a pre-arranged cover story, she didn't like lying to her protege. "Very well ... before No Man's Land, we met when he was lobbying Washington to give Federal funding. Wanted me to add my public support. I told him that if I were to be put under oath, my testimony wouldn't be flattering. Then ... out of the blue, he contacted me, and asked me to this charity thing."
Cassie grinned, bouncing on her chair like a maniac. "Rich people, great food, celebrities?"
"Boring snobs, passible champagne, and legends in their own minds."
"Bummer." Stated Cassie. "What about the guy?"
Diana leaned back in her chair, smiling faintly. She noticed the eavesdroppers moving in closer, and lowered her voice accordingly. "Better than I thought."
Cassie leaned in, using the same low tone - Artemis had taught her that a whisper could carry as loud as a shout. "Cute?"
"Oh yes." Diana wondered if thinking of the Batman in that context was grounds for being committed.
Cassie's voice got lower, but the grin on her face grew wider. "Good kisser?"
Diana leaned in, waiting until the desperation on Cassie's face was as transparent as glass. "Definitely."
Cassie's grin grew slyer in nature. "Did you..." she made a gesture using her right middle finger and a circle of her left fist.
Diana's eyebrows raised at this. "No we didn't-" she mimicked the gesture "-I wouldn't-" gesture again "-on the first date, and even if I-" gesture again "-why should I tell you?"
Cassie gave her a downcast pout that had gotten her out of more trouble with her mother than both of them cared to remember. "I'll be your best friend?"
"Not good enough."
The DEO officer coughed gently, standing over the two. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, Alice?"
"There's a ... person here to see you. Says it's urgent. Doesn't seem like your usual fan, and isn't packing."
Diana looked as Cassie, who gave her a why-are-you-blaming-me shrug. The two walked over to the entrance to the office, to a small lobby, where a small, thin man with pinched features, red-dyed hair, and thick glasses was waiting impatiently.
When he saw Diana, he stood up, and grabbed her hand. "Miss Diana of Themyscira?"
"So it seems."
"I am Alfonse. Designer."
"Designer of..."
Alfonse produced a leather bound folder and opened it with a flourish. Inside were inked sketches of women in various dresses. He rapidly flipped the pages, producing photos of women wearing the pencilled creations. "I do not produce clothes, I create art. Masterpieces which complement and enhance the feminine figure. Each one especially crafted for each unique figure." His hands accompanied his words like darting birds.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in promoting..."
"Hah!" This sudden bark made the two jump. "I don't handle the ... promotional thing. Very shabby, very shabby indeed. I wash my hands of it. I have been commissioned by a Mr. Bruce Wayne to create a garment for you."
Diana blinked. When Bruce mentioned replacing her dress, she didn't think he'd take care of it this quickly. "Really?"
Cassie was leafing through the folder. "You did this one? That Naomi's wearing?" She turned the page again. "This one too? I love it!"
Alfonse glanced at the indicated pages. "You like that one? I never really liked that one myself, not one of my better works. Now then..." he produced a camera and a tape measure. "...whoever got your measurements was pretty good, but I'm just going to make sure. Then I'll make the dress ... Mr. Wayne was specific in something in red."
"Oh yes ... I spilled something on the last red one." Rather, a liquor store robber threw vodka on it and tried to set her alight.
"I was thinking..." Alfonse produced a sketchbook, and flipped it to a page. "Something along these lines. Since you super-people prefer the skin-tight, flowing cape garments, I thought we'd start with this..."
Diana took the book, and looked at a pencilled sketch of herself, wearing a gorgeous garment, which consisted of a skin-tight undergarment, with a pleated shawl on her shoulder blades, and flowing to her wrists. The effect seemed to combine a flowing Greek robe and a Versase catwalk creation.
Diana and Cassie looked at each other. "Wow."
"It looks ... quite incredible."
"Well, that's the preliminary sketch, of course. Most of the women I work on aren't as ... full bodied as you, dear." Alfonse made a meaningful nod to Diana's chest, then his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some of them? Peas on an ironing board." He began to make quick, deft measurements, darting like a mosquito, Diana feeling quite distant from the whole arrangement.
"Does this mean you're going to out with him again?" stated Cassie, flicking through the folder. "Hey, how about the neck from this on that dress...?"
"Well, we did leave the option open..."
"Go for it." Stated Alfonse, head near her waist, taking her outside leg. "Maybe he'll get you another dress. Have you ever considered toning down the arms a little? I mean, the look I'm thinking of does not go well with expanded triceps."
His head was suddenly caught in a vice-like grip. "Afraid not. Sorry." Stated Diana, cheerfully. Her expression gave no indication that she was an ounce of pressure away from cutting off this man's airflow.
"No problem." Wheezed the designer, vision greying.
"Are you sure?" He was beginning to loose sensation in his feet.
"I could do something with the shoulders instead..." The hand was mercifully released.
"That's good to know."
***
Batman descended into the Cave, in full costume. He intended to start cataloguing the latest influx of organised crime into Gotham, and worked best while properly attired.
A light suddenly began flashing on the console, stating that the teleporter had been activated. Immediately, a hand slapped a control sealing off the Cave from everything down to stray electrons, and the movement sensor log activated. He frowned - no movement from that area, or any other, apart from the bats. Somebody was waiting in the tube itself.
Batman practically flew down, wondering what happened ... his teleporter would only accept a complex signal command to activate the dimensional warp generators, which Steel updated regularly from Batman's own security designs.
Those codes were only known to ... wait.
He hadn't changed the codes that Diana used last night.
Batman slowed down, and saw a small envelope lying on the floor of the tube. Gingerly, he picked it up, noting that no visible tampering was evident.
He opened it with a small knife from his utility belt, and retrieved the single card-sized note.
---
Thanks for the dress.
Tonight. Eight. Codes at the bottom. Take a casual change.
D.
---
Batman lowered the note, the ghost of a smile playing across his face. He then frowned, slightly, then ran the note for chemical traces, handwriting and fingerprint analysis. He then performed an atmosphere scan of the immediate area surrounding the teleporter down the microscopic level, and then ran a gamut of tests on the envelope. When the results convinced him he was safe, only then did he relax.
Yes, he was paranoid. However, he was still in the game when many other heroes were either dead, burnt out, or retired.
***
The room for the teleporter lit up, indicating it was in use.
Tim, a young security guard taking the night shift until his novel was finished, got up, rubbing his hands. When Wonder Woman got a teleporter tube set up here, he got to meet a bunch of celebrities; Flash, Martian Manhunter, Plastic Man was a really funny guy - even met Superman once.
He opened the secure door, adjusting his tie. "Welcome to Gateway ... urrgg...."
Tim stared at what was only considered a story told when you really wanted to scare your friends late at night. The Batman walked slowly out of the tube, sweeping past the security guard, blank gaze seeing nothing and everything.
"Er ... sir? Is there ... I..."
"Nobody else besides me." The gravelly voice intoned, a delivery that even Eastwood couldn't copy. "Tell nobody else."
"I ... yes sir. Anything you say." Time suddenly turned, and retrieved a notebook. "Can I have your..."
The Batman had disappeared. "Guess not."
***
Batman had found an unoccupied office with a cut-price lock. Hanging behind his back, concealed by his cape, was a small canvas bag. He opened it while ripping off his costume, the change taking place in seconds.
It was Batman who had to make the teleporter trip, since Batman owned the machine that received the message. Now Bruce Wayne exited the building, wearing tan slacks, brown light jacket and lace-ups. His costume and weapons were in the bag, hung over his shoulder. It was, as suspected, abysmally easy to exit the Government building.
As he stood outside in the warm night, he wondered what the hell Diana had planned.
"You're early."
Bruce turned, to see Diana. She was wearing a loose red blouse, old jeans ... although they hugged the right places exceptionally well ... and sneakers that had seen better days around 1995.
The street outside the building was deserted and traffic was light. The two walked slowly towards each other and stopped just a foot apart, under a streetlight.
Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile, but failing. "Diana ... ah ... how are you?"
Diana was rubbing her hand over a leather carry-all hanging off her shoulder, not quite meeting Bruce's gaze. "Oh, I'm fine. Can't complain. You?'
"Caught up on some filing ... played golf. Everybody's asking about you."
"That's good ... " There was an uncomfortable pause between the two. "We're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Not talking ... we want to say something, but we don't want to say anything that could hurt the other, so we're just trying to fill the gaps in the conversation. And that ... that lack of action will make things worse."
Bruce looked at Diana, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. In his pockets, moving around, crossed in front. And why was he fixating on his hands in the first place? "This is getting ridiculous, isn't it? We're ... we're grown adults ... we've done things that..."
"I know." A pause. "Bruce, can I ask you something and can you only take it in the spirit it was intended? A straightforward query and response?"
He opened his arms slightly. "Always."
"When you ... we ... did you regret what we did? At all?"
"I ... I analysed what we did for nearly a full day. I questioned my motives and yours. I prodded, probed, dissected, and debated. What I never did was regret."
A brief smile started to creep across Diana's face. "That ... that sounds a lot like what I did."
Bruce scanned the area again. "Do you want to find a restaurant ... a diner or something?"
Realisation flooded Diana's face. "Gods ... I knew there was a reason I asked you here. It's about five blocks walk from here..."
***
Diana led Bruce through the city until they passed through a alleyway and found themselves in the middle of looked like a large street carnival.
Squeezing past a cotton candy vendor and someone who was selling stuffed Pokemons, they were surrounded by a mass of humanity. Live bands were playing, children were laughing - or vomiting due to an overdose of junk food and carnival rides.
Diana leaned in close and spoke ... shouted really ... into Bruce's ear. "It's a local festival. Raises money for street children."
Bruce took a mental snapshot of the area. "Haven't been to one of these before ... unofficially, that is."
"It'll be a first for both of us then."
Diana held out her right hand. Not quite understanding at first, Bruce hesitated before sliding his hand into hers. Quite larger than her own, the warmth it's presence generated was somehow reassuring.
The Princess of Themyscira and The Dark Knight entered the crowd, quite indistinguishable from the rest of humanity.
***
Artemis looked around the WonderDome impatiently. "Where is she?"
Chiron looked placidly at Artemis. "I believe she arranged to spend some time with Bruce Wayne, my lady."
Artemis' hands shook as she repressed the urge to kill. "Did she say where?"
The centaur gave a slight anticipatory smile. "No. She also said if you came looking for her, I should relay this message: 'I already have a mother'."
The redhead convulsively grasped a nearby axe handle, and stroked it's comforting weight, thinking.
She probably could track down Diana and the idiot easily - but confronting them now would probably result in an encounter with her sister that would be fatal. Literally.
Besides, she didn't make any categorical promise about confronting Wayne when he was alone...
According to the news reports, he spent most of his time plotting his evils against the innocent in his mansion, near the outer regions of Gotham City.
"When Diana returns, tell her I am making a small journey, Chiron."
***
Diana and Bruce walked along the various attractions, looking around but not really noticing anything. Diana was wondering what Artemis would do if she knew that she was going on another date in less than a week, and if she could be persuaded not to resort to a violent solution.
Bruce was wondering if he could get away with putting his arm around her shoulders.
"C'mon, try your skill! Just five for a dollar, win a prize for your girl, a toy for your kids. C'mon, just five for a dollar..."
Bruce automatically tracked the source of the voice - a try-your-skill booth. His slowing down jolted Diana out of her reverie of reasonable arguments to present to her comrade in arms. "Bruce...?"
She saw a teenaged couple attempting to knock down three bottles with old baseballs.
"Bottom bottles are weighted." Muttered Bruce.
"Obviously."
"I mean, what's the point...?"
The girl whooped as her boyfriend finally knocked over the bottles, the vendor handing over a medium-sized teddy bear. She gave a cheer - well, more of a squeal - and clutched her boyfriend around the neck, face lit up with joy...
"One please." Called Bruce, reaching for his wallet.
The vendor looked at this new customer, well heeled, worked out, teeth whitened. Best pigeon he'd seen all week. "It's five for a dollar, just..."
Bruce took a baseball, tossed it up experimentally to test it's weight and balance, then threw it using all the power in his abdomen/waist/shoulder/bicep/wrist in a single, flowing movement. The same move that sent weighted projectiles spinning around distant flagpoles, cracked apart the pile of bottles packed with five pounds of powdered lead. One on the bottom received the worst of the blow and cracked cleanly apart.
Bruce took the largest bear, a brown fluffy fellow, from the side of the stand, while the vendor looked on numbly. "I said, I only needed one."
Diana looked at him, head cocked to her side, frowning slightly. "Show off."
"Well..."
"And why did you do that, Mr. Wayne?"
"I wanted..." he hadn't felt like since Alfred was taller than him. "....to impress my girl." He numbly held out the bear towards her.
Diana's lips perked up slightly, then took the bear, examining it. "I've never owned a bear before."
They started walking again, as she examined the toy, turning it around and about. "It seems to be a prerequisite for women to own at least one stuffed toy. Cassie has three, even Helena owns an old motheaten frog in the back of her closet. Somehow, Themyscira bypassed the whole toy animal concept."
"That might be the next growth industry; importing stuffed toys to the Amazon nation."
Diana gave Bruce a quick glance at this. "I can barely see my mother holding a furry bear while she sleeps." She suddenly looked away from her examination of the bear. "I can't begin to imagine what she'd do if she knew what I was doing here with you."
Bruce shrugged slightly. "I take it she wouldn't approve...?"
"I ... I don't know." She looked at Bruce ruefully. "On Themyscira, you train, you duel, you live forever. Rarely has anything changed. You'd think you'd be able to predict people there. But my mother still has the ability to surprise me." She ruffled the head of the bear absently. "I know that if she ever found out about you..."
"A challenge to fight to the death?"
"She'd think that would be too quick. What about..." she quickly bit back her words. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I think ... they'd be honoured to know you." Bruce's expression was fastened on a distant point, far away. "I ... I've tried to keep them alive. Their memory. Honour their lives..."
"...and justify their deaths?"
"Always." Bruce placed his hands in his pockets, expression tightening ... Diana could see the Bat beginning to emerge, in his voice, his posture, his actions.
She held his arm, making him stop. "Bruce, do you know why I wanted to come here?"
"I showed you my place, now you have to show me yours?"
"Yes ... and I wanted to take away your excuse."
"My what...?"
"Gotham. That city created both the rich idiot and the Batman. They're two masks you hide behind. Nobody knows that Bruce Wayne is on the other side of the country, and over here, Batman is a scary campfire story." She clasped his arm. "You've got no choice but to be yourself."
"You might like the rich idiot better."
"Darkseid himself hasn't encouraged self-injury more than the rich idiot. The Batman uses theatrics to terrify criminals. You..." she broke off, collecting her thoughts. "...you miss your parents. You talk to Alfred. You fought for a city that nobody cares about ... and you won me my first bear." Her mouth tightened slightly. "I didn't kiss the idiot or the Batman."
Bruce didn't know what to say ... he was having a hard time connecting his mouth with his brain. Finally, he got words to come out of his mouth.
"Thank you. For believing in me."
"Believing in you is the easy part ... but you're still what Helena would call a 'fixer-upper'."
Bruce glanced sideways, expression neutral. "I've been called worse."
They began their journey again, heading into the middle of the street. They suddenly saw a mass of tables and benches laid out under a large awning. Surrounding the tables were several food stalls.
"Hungry?"
"Are you buying?"
Bruce quickly located and bought two large slices of pizza accompanied by bottled water. They found a table with vacant seating opposite each other, next to a couple in their sixties.
"This is the second time you've bought me a meal involving junk food, Bruce."
He looked around ... there was one stall which sold what seemed to be slabs of lasagne, but that was crowded. "Doesn't seem to be anything else here."
"Next time, we go to Denny's."
Bruce looked at her, a slightly amused expression on his face. "Does that mean there's going to be a next time?"
"A girl has to eat." She took a large bite of the food, and grimaced. "This is more oil than meat."
Bruce took a bite, chewing contemplatively. "I've had worse."
"Alfred said something about your dietary habits." Diana grinned, slightly. "Haven't you heard of TV dinners? I lived on those for months before I finally learned how to operate ovens and hotplates."
Bruce spread his arms wide. "I haven't got the knack of ... cooking."
Diana's eyes widened at this. "You can't cook?"
"Cook, wash, operate a microwave ... basically, anything Alfred can do."
Diana took a swig of water. "Finally, you admit to not doing something as well as the rest of us."
Bruce frowned. "I'm the first to admit that you can outdo anything I can physically."
"I was referring to something normal." Her expression became sly. "Even Kyle can cook better than you can."
"Do you have to rub it in?"
"Oh yes." She pushed the remaining pizza away. "Did Alfred ever try to teach you?"
"Tried. Once. Two fire alarms and three Armanis destroyed. In the end he muttered something about 'job security' and he's never tried again." Bruce took her pizza, his finished, and started on it. "Once you get used to it, this isn't bad..."
Diana snatched it out of his grasp. "We are going to teach you to fend for yourself, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce couldn't help but smile at this. "Alfred can cook English, French, and Oriental cuisine, he's single-handedly arranged fund-raisers for hundreds and has invented a method of sewing kevlar. How can you succeed where he's failed?"
Diana gave him a stern look. "I doubt that a English butler can offer the same kind of..." Bruce suddenly felt fingernails raking along the inside of his thigh. "...incentives I can for success."
The sensation vanished as quickly as it arrived. She hadn't categorically promised anything...
Bruce reminded himself to get Alfred to give him a refresher course.
***
Alfred Pennyworth looked at his new visitor.
A very tall woman, slightly taller than him. Muscular enough to intimidate Master Dick. Redhead.
"May I help you, madam?"
"Are you the servant of Bruce Wayne?" Her accent was virtually identical to Miss Diana's. This must be her ally, the one who replaced her briefly.
"Indeed I am."
"I will wait for Wayne to arrive here. I have business that must be conducted face to face."
"I see." Alfred turned around. "The sitting room has a television and a full bar..."
"I will feel more comfortable if I can see you - at all times." The Amazon was very close to Alfred now, trying to intimidate him.
The man who taught the Batman how to make his dramatic entries and exits merely took her efforts in stride. There were seven different ways to contact Master Bruce despite Artemis' efforts, and even if he couldn't, he always checked the monitors within the house before entering from the Cave.
"I was planning on scrubbing the kitchen. It's not a very exciting task."
The look on Artemis' face stated that she would endure a wait in hell itself in completion of her mission. Alfred sighed and got out the Pledge.
***
"And these are called...?"
"Toffee Apples. Haven't had one in a while. Alfred makes ... made them for Dick, Jason and Tim."
Diana tried one experimentally. The brittle but slightly soft exterior gave way and mixed with the juices of the fruit inside.
"Itsh..." she chewed and swallowed. "It's good."
Bruce was looking at his mournfully. "Alfred makes far better ones."
"You cheerfully eat a substandard pizza but complain about apples covered in sugar..." Diana saw the look on his face and recognised it. Trouble.
She covertly looked where he was staring ... just a girl, a teenaged Latina, and some boy, well-dressed, college age, near a cotton candy machine.
Bruce looked down, apparently rapt in his toffee apple, his lips not moving. "Their clothing are from different ends of the social spectrum..."
Diana glanced again. Yes, his looked like designer labels whereas hers were probably from Target's stocktake clearance ... hardly a red flag though.
"...and those five on your left are looking for somebody. At least one has a gun, possibly a .38 revolver. Chances are she's the girl or former girlfriend of one of those youths and she's trying to move up in the world."
Diana scanned again - damn it, yes, five, all decked out in the same black-and-red motif, the leader with an angry/frantic look she'd seen before on a man who'd been holding his ex-wife and her lover hostage.
Bruce's expression was that of the Bat again. "How long would it take you to get into costume?"
Diana looked at her bag. "If I can find a place, about one and a half min..."
"Too long." Stated Bruce, getting up. Already the group had seen the girl and the college kid. "Protect the bystanders." He started ambling over casually towards the cotton candy machine.
Diana quickly took her bracelets from her bag and snapped them on while getting up. She got towards the edge of the crowds nearest the youths.
Standard procedure - one takes the enemy, the other guards the civilians. Normally, in an urban situation, just showing up in costume was enough to make them give up or run for it, but the gang had already seen the mis-matched couple, and was heading towards them.
Bruce, however, had slipped into 'idiot' mode, and crashed straight into the leader, confirming he had a loaded pistol and a knife in his right and left pants pockets. "Ooops. Sorry."
The boy looked at Bruce, then pushed past - or tried to, he had 'accidentally' grabbed the aggressor's arm and swung them around, almost crashing into the others behind him.
The couple was frozen at the sight, until a pair of hands clasped their shoulders. They turned to see Diana behind them, beckoning them to follow.
The leader of the group saw his girl and the yuppie being led into the crowd, and tried to push away from this retard that was clinging to him like a cockroach.
He had reached breaking point about half an hour ago. He reached into his pocket, and tried to draw his gun, intent on winging the bitch.
Bruce saw the move. His reaction was aided by years of practice - and the fact that a gun, buried deep in a pocket, is near impossible to draw quickly, because it will snag on virtually anything and everything.
His grip found the youth's wrist, and squeezed at a critical point. As the pain from the crushed ligament began to register, a powerful blow cracked his jaw in two places, followed by a swift headbutt.
The leader went down immediately, but two of his friends had time to pull out their weapons - a motorcycle chain and a knife respectively.
The other two had gone after Diana and the couple.
***
Diana was hauling the two behind her, going through the eating area. Get these two to safety. Then pick up Bruce.
Was it possible to have an evening out without getting into a fight, or was it just her?
She heard them - one was running around the awning, the other barrelling through after them. Great.
Diana stopped, and turned to face the boy, barely more than fifteen, yet taller than her, and carrying a screwdriver with a seven-inch shaft sharpened to a point.
Nearby was a forty-four gallon steel barrel being used as a trash can. Diana picked it up, and as easily as a mortal would throw a beach ball, she threw it towards the youth.
It impacted, bouncing off him as he hit the ground. Diana caught it, and set it down, then picking up the youth with one hand and placing the semi-conscious boy headfirst into used plastic, paper, and at least three children's vomit.
The people around them were staring at this shameless exhibit of strength. "I'm trying out for the WWF."
Suddenly she grabbed the girl, and hauled the teenager towards her, the aluminium baseball bat narrowly missing and on an intercept course with Diana's head.
She caught it, and tightened her grip. The metal impacted like foil under her fingers.
"Run."
The remaining gang member saw the damage to his bat, the determination in her eyes, and took off.
Diana was about keep going when she remembered Bruce had three of them to deal with.
She looked at the couple. "You two, I want you to get out of here and go to the police, okay?"
They looked at her, gave their affirmations, and headed out of the area.
Diana turned, and started running.
Don't be stupid, Bruce fights gang members armed with semi-automatic weaponry, deranged psychopaths and metas on a daily basis. Three teenagers aren't even going to make him sweat, let alone hurt him.
Damn it, Diana, why are you so worried?
***
Bruce had spared a single glance to make sure that the leader was out of the fight before turning his attention to the others.
The problem was, he mused, that if you're trained in several martial arts, it's easy to forget that the rest of the world don't have formal fighting patterns, and while you're trying to figure out if they're using the crane style or the Shaolin-la form, they're just trying to stick a shiv in your ribs and steal your wallet while you're bleeding to death.
The one with the chain was swinging it around his head trying to gain momentum. Bruce gave him an incentive by moving closer towards him.
Chain came up, and sent the spinning metal towards Bruce's head.
Instead, Bruce bent backwards, letting the metal clear his face by half an inch. When the object had cleared him, he snapped back up, using all the power in his back and abdomen, and used the half-second opportunity to send two rigid fingers into the boy's eyes.
With a howl of pain, the kid went down, and Bruce turned to see the boy with the knife move to make a diagonal slash which would lay open his face...
...and Bruce kicked, once, a single forward motion directly into his attacker's groin. The force lifted the gang member off his feet, travelling two and a half feet backwards, and sent him crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap.
The two took twenty-odd seconds to deal with. Bruce took their weapons, and headed back towards the eating area. The crowd that gathered to watch started cheering and applauding.
***
By now Diana had reached where she had started, and saw Bruce finishing off the last one with a simple economic blow. The relief she felt was almost physical in form.
Bruce saw her arrive, and waved, making a quick gesture to grab their bags. Of course, a quick getaway was inevitable now.
As she grabbed their belongings, checking that none of them had been pilfered, a blonde girl looked at Diana. "Do you know that guy?"
"Oh yes."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
Diana was about to automatically reply in the negative when something kicked in.
"Yeah. He's my boyfriend."
The girl grinned. "Cool."
The realisation slowly enveloped her like a wave.
I have a boyfriend.
The Batman is my boyfriend.
Bruce Wayne is my boyfriend.
By the time she had assimilated the last fact, she had noticed the size of the smile on her face.
***
Bruce strode towards the awning, and scanned Diana. She was fine ... of course she's fine you idiot. She can deck Clark if she wanted to, so why should you be worried?
Why is she smiling like that?
He decided to ask her later. He accepted congratulations from the crowd - thanking the gods that none of them took a photo, or a camcorder for a news feature. Bruce walked over to Diana, and quickly scanned her "Are you all right?"
"Actually, I'm great."
"What do you..."
His words were cut off when she wrapped her arms around him, and gave him the kind of kiss which not only shuts you up, but makes you forget where and who you are.
Pleasant as it was, he had to break it off, however, because he needed more oxygen than she did. She looked at Bruce, rubbing her thumb on his cheek. "You're my boyfriend."
Bruce looked slightly shocked ... then a slow smile began creeping across his face. "You're ... you're my girlfriend."
For a moment, they stood there, looking at the other, becoming aquatinted with the concept.
"We're in agreement then?"
"Sounds like it."
They heard sounds of the police, heading towards them.
"Where to?"
"Your place or mine?"
"Yours ... I sometimes get uninvited guests."
With that, they headed to the edge of the crowd.
By the time anyone in authority had reached the scene, they had completely disappeared.
***
Artemis slumped at the kitchen counter, glowering. "I do not trust you, manservant."
"I regret to hear that, madam."
"Just because your master is her ... current interest, does not grant you any liberties at all, do you understand?"
"Crystal clear madam." Came Alfred's distant voice, as he rummaged through a cupboard. He finally emerged, sporting a pair of alligator oven mitts. "Can you open the oven door, madam?"
Artemis stomped over, on the verge of telling him where to stick it, and opened the door. She was about to stomp back, and glower on the stool when her nose started flaring like a rampaging wild boar.
"Wh ...what is..."
"That..." stated Alfred, taking two metal trays of piping hot biscuits and taking them to the counter. "...is my latest creation. Triple-chocolate chip cookies, with extra butter."
Artemis' nose was twitching madly, and her mouth was beginning to salivate uncontrollably. "I ... I haven't..."
Alfred quickly and efficiently started placing the cookies onto a cooling mesh. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you taste one for me? I need an unbiased opinion otherwise it's not worth baking them again."
Artemis swallowed, unable to take her eyes off the morsels in front of her. "I... I ... Diana requested that I help ... why not?"
Alfred gave a wan smile, then placed three cookies onto a plate, adding a folded napkin, then pushing it across the counter. "Thank you madam. I have to warn you, it's rather..."
The redhead took two cookies off the plate, and shovelled them into her mouth without ceremony.
"...hot."
Artemis chewed twice, and swallowed. Her eyes took a glazed look as Alfred's creation, made with a specially imported butter, overwhelmed her taste buds and shut down half her higher brain functions.
Then she looked at him with a predator's gaze, making him feel slightly worried.
***
Diana was flying him home. He had changed into his costume, because his cowl had incorporated lenses which protected his eyes from the high speeds they were travelling. It didn't take long before she had reached the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne Manor was located.
Diana landed on the two acres of front lawn. The Batman walked towards the gardener's shed and started changing.
The Amazon followed, and started watching the Batman change.
"That is not behaviour befitting a Princess of the Amazon nation." Stated Batman, now down to his skintight leggings.
"It's within my rights now that we're officially a couple." Retorted Diana, haughtily. "Failure to observe the goods is considered grounds for break-up."
Goods? As Bruce mulled over this side of Diana, he was now down to the jockstrap and extra-strength athletes cup (rated against a .22 calibre) and rapidly getting back into his civvies. Diana inclined her head and had a good long look at the rear.
"Did you know there's a show in Los Angeles where somebody in a bat costume gets down to nothing but the cape and mask?"
"I never knew you went to those places."
"Oh I didn't. Donna went when she heard about it. Tried to imagine it was you, peeling off clothes to 'It's Raining Men' Laughed her head off, but nearly made the poor man on stage trip over."
"It's Raining..."
"Gay bar."
Bruce tried to imagine the scene, a slight smirk raising.
Diana noticed this. "A smile and a near one in less than three days." She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear. "At this rate, you're going to be acting like a human being in no time."
Bruce finished changing, then the two headed to the Manor. Diana noticed her hand had automatically slipped into Bruce's now, with the ease of familiarity.
As they headed to the front door, they slowed when they saw a translucent sled parked near the front door.
"Artemis." hissed Diana.
"Alfred's in as well." Noted Bruce.
The two entered the front hall, Bruce reaching for an authentic Louisville slugger signed by Mickey Mantle.
Diana looked at him. "A baseball bat? Are you crazy? This is Artemis!"
Bruce looked at the bat, then her. "I was just..."
She snatched the bat, then reached for one of a pair of mounted ornamental, but fully serviceable battle-axes. She hefted it experimentally before placing it in his hand. "That's more like it."
They both heard the moan from the other side of the room. Carefully, they crept over to the door, and listened carefully.
"Ohhh ... mmhhh ..." sounds of swallowing, gulping. "That is.... more. I would like more."
"I'm glad that my efforts are appreciated, madam."
More swallowing, liquid gulping. Chewing?
"I thought you would appreciate that, madam."
"Can you do no wrong? More! I SAID MORE!"
"At this rate..."
"I SAID MORE!!!"
Diana looked at Bruce quizzically, who shrugged in response. A frantic movement, a chair dragging against the floor, the swallowing sounds escalating. "Damn you Alfred, if there were any man worth worshipping on this planet, it would be you..."
"Shall I quote you as a reference, madam?" The sounds reached a crescendo ... then slowly slowed down. "Are you sure that was all, Alfred?"
"I told you, there isn't any more left."
Her voice was a chilling monotone. "Then I suggest you get some more."
The kitchen door suddenly opened, to show an immaculate Alfred Pennyworth, wearing an apron and wearing alligator oven mitts. "Sir, madam - It looks like I have to go shopping."
"Alfred ... what was going on in there?"
A slight smile. "An old British method of diplomacy, madam. If you'll excuse me..."
As Alfred headed for the garage, Artemis crashed through the door, hair dishevelled, eyes shining bright. "Alfred? You must..."
"Miss Artemis, I have to go and buy some more butter."
"I will fly you there!" She shouted, stopping only to lick her fingers. She turned to Bruce, eyes bright. "Wayne, to have that man's talents all hours of the day ... Diana, you will not be sorry!" She hurried off after the butler.
Bruce placed a hand to his head, wondering. "Looks like Alfred made the peace."
"Obviously. Do we want to know how?"
Bruce debated the issue. "He'll tell us when he's ready."
"Artemis will probably say ... something."
"It's their own business."
"Why should we..."
"Are you as disturbed as I am?"
"You have no idea."
***
Well, hopefully this wasn't another victim of the dread plague sequelitus.
Please send any and all feedback to atullberg@mydeja.com
(The Server apologises for this break in the message. The overwhelming laughter from friends, family, and complete strangers at the last comment has interrupted the author's ability to write, and service will recommence when he has retrieved his machete from under the house beside the decapitated bodies.)
...as I was saying, I decided to write another, mainly because I need the practice, and I had a few ideas for Alfred. If you can't tell, I really like the character.
Dedicated to Michael Gough, the last bastion of sanity within the dying days of the Batman movie franchise. It also helps that he appeared twice on Doctor Who, my favourite show.
***
The Unusual Mission; the Aftermath.
By Adrian Tullberg.
Synopsis; The Morning after. They're still trying to work out what happened. Unfortunately, so is everybody else.
Bruce couldn't sleep, mentally replaying the last few minutes of his date. He got up, re-did his whole patrol over again, caught three amateur break-and-enters, suspended two midnight peepers by the ankles from a seven story drop, and intercepted four drink-drivers - although his method of 'ram them into the embankment' would probably be considered excessive. After that, he interrogated his usual gamut of snitches, and terrorised every inmate in Blackgate's Lifer Wing. When the sun came up, he engaged in a twenty mile run, finished with his usual punishing workout routine, which would kill any normal man. He managed five hours sleep.
Diana slept badly. She got up twenty-three times in the night, pacing and muttering, until she started practicing kata, and various formations, ad nauseam until the sun tinged the horizon. Only then, did she sleep fitfully, muttering about getting cable or a Playstation.
Although both were confused about what had happened between them, they had hoped that whatever it was could be dealt with quietly, and anonymously.
Unfortunately, they lived in a telecommunications world, where information, given the incentive, can be distributed around the planet at the speed of light.
Celebrity is possibly the foremost incentive on the planet.
***
Cassie Sandsmark opened her eyes, yawning blearily. She hoisted herself out of bed, stretching and scratching, heading for the bathroom, noting that Artemis was already gone. No matter how early Cassie got to bed, she never saw the warrior sitting all night at the foot of her bed, and would never catch the redheaded Amazon waking.
Ten minutes later, she headed to the kitchen, to see her mother bustling around, as per normal...
... and Superboy, Robin, Arrowette and Impulse seated at the table, tucking into a large array of pancakes.
"What's going..."
Her mother shushed her. "They wanted to see you about something, and I invited them for breakfast. Now get moving, remember it's a school day."
Cassie glowered at her mother. She probably insisted that the members of Young Justice stay so that she could get a good look at Superboy ... it wasn't a secret that she had a little (yeah, right!) crush on him, and mom probably wanted to use the opportunity to give him the third degree.
She sat down, pushing back her blonde hair, wishing that they had given her some time to get ready - nothing killed your image in front of your friends quicker than them seeing you in nothing but your oversized Care Bear T-shirt and fluffy bunny slippers.
Artemis was sitting as far away from the new people as possible, slowly chewing on some fruit. Even though she kept on insisting on rising earlier than anybody else, Artemis was not, and never would be, a morning person.
"Okay guys, what's so important?"
"I wish I knew." Muttered Robin. "I spent all night patrolling, looking for carjackers. These three..." he jabbed a finger at the grinning Arrowette and Superboy, and the blurring Impulse "...said if I didn't know, then I should wait until you were told..."
"Welll...." Said Arrowette, drowning her pancakes with what looked like half the bottle of syrup. "...we wanted to know what you thought about this..."
With a dramatic flourish, Superboy threw down a copy of The Gotham Gazette, folded to what looked like a colour insert of the society pages. She saw Diana, wearing the kind-of-okay red dress she kept, even though Cassie kept on suggesting - okay, begging - for them to go on an incredible shopping trip. Diana was on the arm of some really gorgeous-looking guy, six foot plus and looked all muscle...
Robin must have recognised him because he gave a strangled 'eep' and tightened his grip on the fork, making it shoot out of his glove and clatter on the ground.
"I knew she didn't know!"
"Hey, Rob, you know him?"
"Tha ... that's ... he's Bruce ... Bruce Wayne." His expression was that of unabashed shock.
Impulse stopped eating/drinking/searching the house for stuff to do and looked at Robin's face. He wondered how you could make your mouth move like that while not drooling - although it looked like he was going to soon.
"Who's Bruce Wayne?" said Arrowette, using one of her bolts to spear five pancakes at once, and attempt to eat then like a shish kebab of batter.
"Richestguyingothamwowhe'sreallyrichmaybeyou'regoingtogetmoneyCas!"
"So, she went out once with Bruce Wayne, big deal." Stated Superboy, who was on his twelfth pancake.
"So? He's rich, really sexy ... I mean, wouldn't you go out with him, if you were a girl?"
"Cassie ... never, ever, ask a guy that question, okay?"
"But..."
"Never."
"It's just..."
"Never. Ever."
"Don't you..."
Superboy made a 'zip it' gesture, making Cassie sit back, annoyed.
Robin picked up the newspaper, and started scanning through the article, feeling a little numb.
His dad saying that he was going to get married didn't cause this kind of reaction. Then again, his father had been going out with Dana for a while. Perhaps he'd better call Bruce...
Then again, better not. He still hadn't quite told him about his relationship with the Spoiler, complicated as that was. Besides ... if there was anything to it, he'd tell him, wouldn't he?
Robin really hoped Alfred would clue him in.
A red-and-white blur suddenly started rifling through the kitchen, Helena Sandsmark could only watch as Impulse, super-speedster, video-game fanatic, and poster boy for Attention Deficit Disorder started ruining last weekend's cleaning frenzy.
Robin's voice was muffled as his face was nearly touching the table surface. "Impulse - put everything, and I mean everything back where you found it."
The blur stopped, revealing a fourteen-year-old with an incredible shock of hair and enormous feet. The blur appeared again - and the kitchen was back as it was before.
"Maybe she's doing it for his money." Stated Superboy, peering over Robin's shoulder.
"Kon! She's a Princess!" snapped Cassie. "She doesn't need money!"
"I heard that she had to work in a Taco joint."
"That was years ago! Before you were born, okay!"
"Where's Bart?"
Suddenly he appeared, with five plastic shopping bags full of...
"HeywhowantsPringles?"
"You've been raiding the petty cash tin again?" muttered Robin, wondering wether it was worth the effort of re-hiding the strongbox every week if Impulse was always going to find and raid it within seconds.
"Who can eat Pringles for breakfast?" muttered Arrowette, pulling a face.
Artemis had been surreptitiously reading over the shoulder of Robin along with Superboy. She left the kitchen without a word.
"Hey, look, I don't know what this is about, but I'm definitely going to ask Diana when I see her next. I promise to keep you guys clued in, okay?"
"Maybe you shouldn't." stated Helena, briskly entering the room while checking her handbag. "If Diana wants to tell you about her private life, she'll tell you in her own time. In the meantime, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong." She looked at her watch. "Unless you want to fly to school, you'd better get moving."
"I like flying to school." Stated Cassie, with as much dignity as she can muster. "No rush hour, great views, and no carjacking. Tell her how dangerous carjacking is, Robin."
"Not to mention the enormous prestige factor in giving your friends rides to school, Mrs. Sandsmark. You have no idea how many favours you can rack up just by giving a five-minute ride. Better than a ton of Pokemons." Added Superboy.
"She takes the bus like everybody else. Now get moving."
Cassie grumbled all the way to her room. Superboy and Arrowette got up. "Er, we've got to get going, Mrs Sandsmark..."
Suddenly the red and white blur span around the table, taking every plate and utensil. Water was already waiting, and agitated to near boiling point. The dishes were vibrated until the dirt fell off, the resulting kinetic energy steaming off the water as they were placed in the rack. Impulse stood in the middle of the room, grinning inanely.
"ThanksforthepancakesMrsSandsmarkI'veneverhadthembefore." With that, he zoomed off.
Arrowette, Superboy and Robin made their goodbyes as they left, Helena noting that they were unusually rushed.
Once they were outside and heading for their outsize motorcycle, Superboy whispered in Robin's ear. "What do you think Bart's done?"
"I don't know, don't want to know, but I bet she's going to find out any second..."
An enraged shriek enemated from the house.
The three teenage heroes ran like hell.
***
Artemis shook Diana awake, roughly.
The Amazon Princess muttered as she slowly awoke. "....I will not take any more questions on the purported resemblance between me and Lara Croft ..."
"What are you talking about?"
"Eh?" Diana's mind slowly booted up. "Oh. Sorry. Recurring dream." Her jaw cracked wide open as she yawned. "Remind me to talk to J'onn about that."
"You did not tell me."
"It's just a silly dream..."
"Not the dream!"
"Then what?"
The redhead's voice was as cold as a blade's edge. "That you would be seen cavorting with Wayne all night."
Artemis produced a newspaper - she used some of the little money hoarded away to purchase the same copy of the Gotham Gazette she had seen, and opened it roughly to the society pages.
Diana rubbed her eyes as she read the paper. The shot was when she had turned to the other side of the paparazzi, half-blinded by the strobing flashes.
"They didn't get my best side." She stated blankly.
"I'm not concerned about your appearance - your 'image' is the issue at hand."
Diana gave Artemis a pleading look. "Is there any chance of breakfast?"
"You are seen as nothing more than the ... the attachment of the rich elite of this nation's capital of crime! An accessory! A symbol of..."
"I hope you've finished." Stated Diana, her anger beginning to rise. "Let's analyse this report, shall we? Starting with the banner ... ah yes; WAYNE AND THE WONDER. Completely denigrates me and my mission. Not to mention the body of the article itself ... 'a bastion of charm and grace' ... 'a breath of fresh air within the hallowed halls of Gotham society' ... 'Wayne was the most fortunate man in the city'. The damage to us is irreversible, we have to return to Themyscira immediately."
Artemis snatched the paper from Diana, walking around the large circular bed. "We can only hope that some new scandal breaks out quickly, distracting the media from your little flight of fancy."
Diana got out of bed, intent on finding water. "Possibly."
"What do you mean, possibly? When the agents of the media find that you are not pursuing Wayne, they will find another fresh scandal, and devote their energies to investigating Bill Clinton once again. The way Man's World works is very simple once you..." she trailed off. "You only were intending to be seen with Wayne that one time, weren't you?"
Diana shifted away from Artemis' fresh glare. "That was the plan."
Artemis slowly stalked up to Diana, fingers curling into sharp spikes of bone and sinew. "But now..."
"I found that there was ... something besides what I had seen before."
Artemis was virtually nose to nose with Diana, expression blank. "Did he seduce you?"
"No." stated Diana. "There was no attempt."
You wouldn't have minded if he tried, would you? A little imp spoke in her ear.
Artemis' voice dropped several degrees. "Perhaps he is laying a trap for you to fall into." Her voice became a hiss. "You already have one foot in the pit."
The Amazon warrior turned around, intent on exiting. "It's obvious you're too emotionally involved to think straight. I will deal with Wayne myself. You can thank me later."
Artemis attempting to intimidate Batman. However, if she was intent on just more than scaring Bruce...
"Listen to me Artemis - what is going on between me and ... Bruce Wayne..." she was still trying to come to terms with the situation "... remains that; between us. You will not interfere. Physically, mentally, spiritually, directly, indirectly."
Artemis stopped, then looked at her sister, exasperated. "Very well."
"Swear it."
Her expression turned to incredulousness. "Are you mad?!?"
"Hardly."
Artemis tried to stare down Diana ... but failed. "Very well. You have my word that if that oaf hurts you ... in any manner possible, I will not intervene ... unless asked."
"Good." Diana started changing into her uniform. "Bruce Wayne is not an oaf, however."
"I shall retain my opinion until evidence to the contrary presents itself." Stated Artemis.
"He finds me ... intriguing."
"You have only proven he has eyes. Why should you court the attentions of one who only has his wealth to proclaim?" Artemis started stalking back and forth across the chambers. "The 'Superman' ... I would have thought that on 'Man's World', he was the only potential warrior."
Diana took a breath as she fastened her belt. "You think like Maxima."
"Who?"
"Never mind. Superman has found his mate. A long time ago."
"Ah. You wish to make him jealous by publicly courting Wayne." A tactic Artemis often saw on 'Ricki Lake'.
Diana closed her eyes and counted to ten ... slowly. "Can you entertain the possibility that I find Bruce ... potentially suitable, without some ulterior motive?"
"Considering what I know of him, not for any reason whatsoever. Diana, he is not a suitable mate."
"Maybe you're right." Diana stated. She walked towards the armory, Artemis following. "Maybe he's totally unsuitable for me. The fact remains..." she suddenly turned, and rounded on the redhead. "...I don't know, one way or the other. I saw something in him last night that might mean 'yes'. And I intend to pursue that possibility."
"Just because..."
"A hunter does not abandon a trail. She pursues her game until she finally corners ... and traps it."
Comprehension dawned for the single-minded warrior. "I find it hard to believe that you can find a quality in such a...retard."
Diana placed her hand over her mouth to cover the laughter beginning to well up. "I'm ... I'm beginning to wonder ... about your vocabulary, Artemis."
The warrior turned away in a huff. Waiting for Cassie, being left alone for hours every day, and having an animosity with machinery that bordered on a blood feud left her with very little to do but become intimately aquatinted with the wonders of daytime television. If Diana would not appreciate her efforts to acclimatise to 'Man's World', so be it.
***
Alfred entered the large house, locking the doors behind him. After getting Tim prepared for school, he would travel back to Wayne Manor to perform his general duties. Since the great Batman could not even touch an oven or a washing machine without a major disaster occurring, he rediscovered the joys of cross-city commuting and drive time radio.
Since Master Bruce spent most of the day sleeping off a hard night of terrorising the criminal community, Alfred didn't see much of him unless his presence was specifically required.
As Alfred entered the study, the sight of his employer sitting down, facing the grounds, made him frown. "Good morning sir."
Bruce looked automatically at a clock. "Is it?"
Alfred nodded, bustling around the study. "Master Tim read the papers this morning. He's very curious as to what happened concerning your ... occasion with Miss Diana. Although he's trying very hard not to show it."
A dry chuckle from the figure in the chair. "I'd like to know myself."
"Seems fairly obvious to me, sir."
"Is it?" Bruce got up, and started pacing back and forth. "We both admitted to being lonely, with nothing but our missions to keep us occupied. Maybe it was the moment ... or ... maybe she has a power to attract males to her that I haven't found out about yet." Finished Bruce, noting that this was probably the lamest excuse he had ever given in history.
If Alfred ever shared his thoughts, he didn't show it. "In my experience, it's a quality, rather than an artificial ability, that only exceptional women possess."
Bruce turned around, then slumped into the overstuffed chair, more confused than ever before - even the Riddler's worst didn't cause him this much trouble. At least there was a guarantee of a solution at the end.
Alfred placed his duster down, and sat across from Bruce, looking him directly in the eye.
"In my experience, one night out and a kiss goodnight does not indicate either a tragedy or a happy ending." He gave a tight smile. "It does, however, mean that you have an opportunity to find out, one way or the other."
"Should I ... do I have the right?"
"One of the many excuses...my apologies, reasons, you have given me for not pursuing a woman is that your lifestyle prevented her living in relative safety. It appears that someone who can trade blows with Mr. Kent is not easily intimidated, or killed."
"Even so..."
"Master Bruce..." Alfred's gentle tone was more direct than a parade ground bellow. "Not only is she a grown woman, but an accomplished warrior. The question is not can she, but will she?"
Alfred got up, and took the tray. "Perhaps you're reading too much into it ... she may have already decided that being courted by an overprotective individual with paranoid tendencies just isn't worth the bother, and have decided to find someone less zealous in his outlook. Perhaps that nice Mr. Curry would be interested?"
"If you're looking for a polar opposite to me, then Arthur is not it. You'd be better off with..."
"Very well, Master Bruce, let me put it to you as simply as possible: Is she worth pursuing?"
Bruce looked up at his surrogate father; with as close an expression of desperation that Alfred had ever seen. "Well ... yes. But..."
"I suggest you replace that dress for starters. The number of the designer is on the table. About to jet off to Paris, but might be agreeable to commute to Gateway for the right sum - and the chance to dress another celebrity. Next to it is my best guess as to her measurements..." Alfred was, when he wanted to be, more ruthless than Shiva. "...I might be off by an inch or two, it's been a while since I had to attire a woman." A brief pause. "Almost as long as you've gotten your hands on one, I dare say."
Alfred left the room, knowing nothing killed the dramatic impact quicker than somebody stealing the last word. Besides, he had laundry to do.
Bruce looked at the notepad, then numbly started punching in the numbers. He almost slammed the phone down when someone answered, but made his request. The bartering and agreement were done on automatic pilot.
This wasn't the first time he'd done this. When a society belle admitted a love for the Stones, Bruce bought and had delivered a vinyl copy of their first album the very next day. Dumped her the next week.
Treat it like all the other times you've got a girl something. It's not a concern.
Oh, this isn't like the other times, is it? She knows your secret; the others had no clue whatsoever, just as you wanted them to. You've fought alongside her; the others just played tennis. Most importantly, you've shared something with this one, but kept the others at arms distance.
You never thought she'd be more than an ally, at best. Now your relationship has radically changed.
Bruce sat down again, looking at the daylight playing around the grounds - for him, an alien sight.
Forget propriety. Forget what J'onn, Arthur and even what Clark will think and say.
Is she worth pursuing?
***
Wonder Woman flew down, and entered the Federal Building below her, entering through the roof exit. Ever since she'd taken up residence in Gateway, the UN had occupied a floor, keeping a small staff there to keep her updated on world events, and a place to store her teleport tube. She checked in there once a day to get the latest intelligence reports. Although they weren't as accurate as ... say, Clark scanning the planet from low orbit, they gathered the occasional tidbit of data that might become useful later.
Just as she was about to close the door, she heard; "Hey, Diana! Wait for me!"
She sighed, keeping the door open as Cassie flew in. "How was school?"
"A direct violation of the laws of physics - it blew and sucked at the same time. Why didn't you tell me you had a date?"
The Amazon and her charge walked into the offices, the three secretaries, the army intelligence liaison and the DEO officer stood up, giving their various greetings. They presented their briefs to Diana - consisting of handing over written reports, which she would read, sign, and hand back (most of the material was rated top secret) while they witnessed the affair.
Cassie, not old enough to vote, let alone hold a security rating, was gently escorted to the other side of the office, where she pouted while watching Oprah Winfrey.
Since it was a slow day, it took Diana twenty minutes to get through the material. She walked over to Cassie. "You were saying something?"
Cassie muted the volume eagerly. "Yeah! Bruce Wayne, rich hunk, and you didn't tell me?"
Diana spotted two of the secretaries and the DEO officer stop what they were doing and try very hard not to look like they were eavesdropping. The army liaison had gone to the bathroom as soon as she'd finished with his material.
The elder woman took a deep sigh. Although she had agreed to preserve Bruce's identity with a pre-arranged cover story, she didn't like lying to her protege. "Very well ... before No Man's Land, we met when he was lobbying Washington to give Federal funding. Wanted me to add my public support. I told him that if I were to be put under oath, my testimony wouldn't be flattering. Then ... out of the blue, he contacted me, and asked me to this charity thing."
Cassie grinned, bouncing on her chair like a maniac. "Rich people, great food, celebrities?"
"Boring snobs, passible champagne, and legends in their own minds."
"Bummer." Stated Cassie. "What about the guy?"
Diana leaned back in her chair, smiling faintly. She noticed the eavesdroppers moving in closer, and lowered her voice accordingly. "Better than I thought."
Cassie leaned in, using the same low tone - Artemis had taught her that a whisper could carry as loud as a shout. "Cute?"
"Oh yes." Diana wondered if thinking of the Batman in that context was grounds for being committed.
Cassie's voice got lower, but the grin on her face grew wider. "Good kisser?"
Diana leaned in, waiting until the desperation on Cassie's face was as transparent as glass. "Definitely."
Cassie's grin grew slyer in nature. "Did you..." she made a gesture using her right middle finger and a circle of her left fist.
Diana's eyebrows raised at this. "No we didn't-" she mimicked the gesture "-I wouldn't-" gesture again "-on the first date, and even if I-" gesture again "-why should I tell you?"
Cassie gave her a downcast pout that had gotten her out of more trouble with her mother than both of them cared to remember. "I'll be your best friend?"
"Not good enough."
The DEO officer coughed gently, standing over the two. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, Alice?"
"There's a ... person here to see you. Says it's urgent. Doesn't seem like your usual fan, and isn't packing."
Diana looked as Cassie, who gave her a why-are-you-blaming-me shrug. The two walked over to the entrance to the office, to a small lobby, where a small, thin man with pinched features, red-dyed hair, and thick glasses was waiting impatiently.
When he saw Diana, he stood up, and grabbed her hand. "Miss Diana of Themyscira?"
"So it seems."
"I am Alfonse. Designer."
"Designer of..."
Alfonse produced a leather bound folder and opened it with a flourish. Inside were inked sketches of women in various dresses. He rapidly flipped the pages, producing photos of women wearing the pencilled creations. "I do not produce clothes, I create art. Masterpieces which complement and enhance the feminine figure. Each one especially crafted for each unique figure." His hands accompanied his words like darting birds.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in promoting..."
"Hah!" This sudden bark made the two jump. "I don't handle the ... promotional thing. Very shabby, very shabby indeed. I wash my hands of it. I have been commissioned by a Mr. Bruce Wayne to create a garment for you."
Diana blinked. When Bruce mentioned replacing her dress, she didn't think he'd take care of it this quickly. "Really?"
Cassie was leafing through the folder. "You did this one? That Naomi's wearing?" She turned the page again. "This one too? I love it!"
Alfonse glanced at the indicated pages. "You like that one? I never really liked that one myself, not one of my better works. Now then..." he produced a camera and a tape measure. "...whoever got your measurements was pretty good, but I'm just going to make sure. Then I'll make the dress ... Mr. Wayne was specific in something in red."
"Oh yes ... I spilled something on the last red one." Rather, a liquor store robber threw vodka on it and tried to set her alight.
"I was thinking..." Alfonse produced a sketchbook, and flipped it to a page. "Something along these lines. Since you super-people prefer the skin-tight, flowing cape garments, I thought we'd start with this..."
Diana took the book, and looked at a pencilled sketch of herself, wearing a gorgeous garment, which consisted of a skin-tight undergarment, with a pleated shawl on her shoulder blades, and flowing to her wrists. The effect seemed to combine a flowing Greek robe and a Versase catwalk creation.
Diana and Cassie looked at each other. "Wow."
"It looks ... quite incredible."
"Well, that's the preliminary sketch, of course. Most of the women I work on aren't as ... full bodied as you, dear." Alfonse made a meaningful nod to Diana's chest, then his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some of them? Peas on an ironing board." He began to make quick, deft measurements, darting like a mosquito, Diana feeling quite distant from the whole arrangement.
"Does this mean you're going to out with him again?" stated Cassie, flicking through the folder. "Hey, how about the neck from this on that dress...?"
"Well, we did leave the option open..."
"Go for it." Stated Alfonse, head near her waist, taking her outside leg. "Maybe he'll get you another dress. Have you ever considered toning down the arms a little? I mean, the look I'm thinking of does not go well with expanded triceps."
His head was suddenly caught in a vice-like grip. "Afraid not. Sorry." Stated Diana, cheerfully. Her expression gave no indication that she was an ounce of pressure away from cutting off this man's airflow.
"No problem." Wheezed the designer, vision greying.
"Are you sure?" He was beginning to loose sensation in his feet.
"I could do something with the shoulders instead..." The hand was mercifully released.
"That's good to know."
***
Batman descended into the Cave, in full costume. He intended to start cataloguing the latest influx of organised crime into Gotham, and worked best while properly attired.
A light suddenly began flashing on the console, stating that the teleporter had been activated. Immediately, a hand slapped a control sealing off the Cave from everything down to stray electrons, and the movement sensor log activated. He frowned - no movement from that area, or any other, apart from the bats. Somebody was waiting in the tube itself.
Batman practically flew down, wondering what happened ... his teleporter would only accept a complex signal command to activate the dimensional warp generators, which Steel updated regularly from Batman's own security designs.
Those codes were only known to ... wait.
He hadn't changed the codes that Diana used last night.
Batman slowed down, and saw a small envelope lying on the floor of the tube. Gingerly, he picked it up, noting that no visible tampering was evident.
He opened it with a small knife from his utility belt, and retrieved the single card-sized note.
---
Thanks for the dress.
Tonight. Eight. Codes at the bottom. Take a casual change.
D.
---
Batman lowered the note, the ghost of a smile playing across his face. He then frowned, slightly, then ran the note for chemical traces, handwriting and fingerprint analysis. He then performed an atmosphere scan of the immediate area surrounding the teleporter down the microscopic level, and then ran a gamut of tests on the envelope. When the results convinced him he was safe, only then did he relax.
Yes, he was paranoid. However, he was still in the game when many other heroes were either dead, burnt out, or retired.
***
The room for the teleporter lit up, indicating it was in use.
Tim, a young security guard taking the night shift until his novel was finished, got up, rubbing his hands. When Wonder Woman got a teleporter tube set up here, he got to meet a bunch of celebrities; Flash, Martian Manhunter, Plastic Man was a really funny guy - even met Superman once.
He opened the secure door, adjusting his tie. "Welcome to Gateway ... urrgg...."
Tim stared at what was only considered a story told when you really wanted to scare your friends late at night. The Batman walked slowly out of the tube, sweeping past the security guard, blank gaze seeing nothing and everything.
"Er ... sir? Is there ... I..."
"Nobody else besides me." The gravelly voice intoned, a delivery that even Eastwood couldn't copy. "Tell nobody else."
"I ... yes sir. Anything you say." Time suddenly turned, and retrieved a notebook. "Can I have your..."
The Batman had disappeared. "Guess not."
***
Batman had found an unoccupied office with a cut-price lock. Hanging behind his back, concealed by his cape, was a small canvas bag. He opened it while ripping off his costume, the change taking place in seconds.
It was Batman who had to make the teleporter trip, since Batman owned the machine that received the message. Now Bruce Wayne exited the building, wearing tan slacks, brown light jacket and lace-ups. His costume and weapons were in the bag, hung over his shoulder. It was, as suspected, abysmally easy to exit the Government building.
As he stood outside in the warm night, he wondered what the hell Diana had planned.
"You're early."
Bruce turned, to see Diana. She was wearing a loose red blouse, old jeans ... although they hugged the right places exceptionally well ... and sneakers that had seen better days around 1995.
The street outside the building was deserted and traffic was light. The two walked slowly towards each other and stopped just a foot apart, under a streetlight.
Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile, but failing. "Diana ... ah ... how are you?"
Diana was rubbing her hand over a leather carry-all hanging off her shoulder, not quite meeting Bruce's gaze. "Oh, I'm fine. Can't complain. You?'
"Caught up on some filing ... played golf. Everybody's asking about you."
"That's good ... " There was an uncomfortable pause between the two. "We're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Not talking ... we want to say something, but we don't want to say anything that could hurt the other, so we're just trying to fill the gaps in the conversation. And that ... that lack of action will make things worse."
Bruce looked at Diana, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. In his pockets, moving around, crossed in front. And why was he fixating on his hands in the first place? "This is getting ridiculous, isn't it? We're ... we're grown adults ... we've done things that..."
"I know." A pause. "Bruce, can I ask you something and can you only take it in the spirit it was intended? A straightforward query and response?"
He opened his arms slightly. "Always."
"When you ... we ... did you regret what we did? At all?"
"I ... I analysed what we did for nearly a full day. I questioned my motives and yours. I prodded, probed, dissected, and debated. What I never did was regret."
A brief smile started to creep across Diana's face. "That ... that sounds a lot like what I did."
Bruce scanned the area again. "Do you want to find a restaurant ... a diner or something?"
Realisation flooded Diana's face. "Gods ... I knew there was a reason I asked you here. It's about five blocks walk from here..."
***
Diana led Bruce through the city until they passed through a alleyway and found themselves in the middle of looked like a large street carnival.
Squeezing past a cotton candy vendor and someone who was selling stuffed Pokemons, they were surrounded by a mass of humanity. Live bands were playing, children were laughing - or vomiting due to an overdose of junk food and carnival rides.
Diana leaned in close and spoke ... shouted really ... into Bruce's ear. "It's a local festival. Raises money for street children."
Bruce took a mental snapshot of the area. "Haven't been to one of these before ... unofficially, that is."
"It'll be a first for both of us then."
Diana held out her right hand. Not quite understanding at first, Bruce hesitated before sliding his hand into hers. Quite larger than her own, the warmth it's presence generated was somehow reassuring.
The Princess of Themyscira and The Dark Knight entered the crowd, quite indistinguishable from the rest of humanity.
***
Artemis looked around the WonderDome impatiently. "Where is she?"
Chiron looked placidly at Artemis. "I believe she arranged to spend some time with Bruce Wayne, my lady."
Artemis' hands shook as she repressed the urge to kill. "Did she say where?"
The centaur gave a slight anticipatory smile. "No. She also said if you came looking for her, I should relay this message: 'I already have a mother'."
The redhead convulsively grasped a nearby axe handle, and stroked it's comforting weight, thinking.
She probably could track down Diana and the idiot easily - but confronting them now would probably result in an encounter with her sister that would be fatal. Literally.
Besides, she didn't make any categorical promise about confronting Wayne when he was alone...
According to the news reports, he spent most of his time plotting his evils against the innocent in his mansion, near the outer regions of Gotham City.
"When Diana returns, tell her I am making a small journey, Chiron."
***
Diana and Bruce walked along the various attractions, looking around but not really noticing anything. Diana was wondering what Artemis would do if she knew that she was going on another date in less than a week, and if she could be persuaded not to resort to a violent solution.
Bruce was wondering if he could get away with putting his arm around her shoulders.
"C'mon, try your skill! Just five for a dollar, win a prize for your girl, a toy for your kids. C'mon, just five for a dollar..."
Bruce automatically tracked the source of the voice - a try-your-skill booth. His slowing down jolted Diana out of her reverie of reasonable arguments to present to her comrade in arms. "Bruce...?"
She saw a teenaged couple attempting to knock down three bottles with old baseballs.
"Bottom bottles are weighted." Muttered Bruce.
"Obviously."
"I mean, what's the point...?"
The girl whooped as her boyfriend finally knocked over the bottles, the vendor handing over a medium-sized teddy bear. She gave a cheer - well, more of a squeal - and clutched her boyfriend around the neck, face lit up with joy...
"One please." Called Bruce, reaching for his wallet.
The vendor looked at this new customer, well heeled, worked out, teeth whitened. Best pigeon he'd seen all week. "It's five for a dollar, just..."
Bruce took a baseball, tossed it up experimentally to test it's weight and balance, then threw it using all the power in his abdomen/waist/shoulder/bicep/wrist in a single, flowing movement. The same move that sent weighted projectiles spinning around distant flagpoles, cracked apart the pile of bottles packed with five pounds of powdered lead. One on the bottom received the worst of the blow and cracked cleanly apart.
Bruce took the largest bear, a brown fluffy fellow, from the side of the stand, while the vendor looked on numbly. "I said, I only needed one."
Diana looked at him, head cocked to her side, frowning slightly. "Show off."
"Well..."
"And why did you do that, Mr. Wayne?"
"I wanted..." he hadn't felt like since Alfred was taller than him. "....to impress my girl." He numbly held out the bear towards her.
Diana's lips perked up slightly, then took the bear, examining it. "I've never owned a bear before."
They started walking again, as she examined the toy, turning it around and about. "It seems to be a prerequisite for women to own at least one stuffed toy. Cassie has three, even Helena owns an old motheaten frog in the back of her closet. Somehow, Themyscira bypassed the whole toy animal concept."
"That might be the next growth industry; importing stuffed toys to the Amazon nation."
Diana gave Bruce a quick glance at this. "I can barely see my mother holding a furry bear while she sleeps." She suddenly looked away from her examination of the bear. "I can't begin to imagine what she'd do if she knew what I was doing here with you."
Bruce shrugged slightly. "I take it she wouldn't approve...?"
"I ... I don't know." She looked at Bruce ruefully. "On Themyscira, you train, you duel, you live forever. Rarely has anything changed. You'd think you'd be able to predict people there. But my mother still has the ability to surprise me." She ruffled the head of the bear absently. "I know that if she ever found out about you..."
"A challenge to fight to the death?"
"She'd think that would be too quick. What about..." she quickly bit back her words. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I think ... they'd be honoured to know you." Bruce's expression was fastened on a distant point, far away. "I ... I've tried to keep them alive. Their memory. Honour their lives..."
"...and justify their deaths?"
"Always." Bruce placed his hands in his pockets, expression tightening ... Diana could see the Bat beginning to emerge, in his voice, his posture, his actions.
She held his arm, making him stop. "Bruce, do you know why I wanted to come here?"
"I showed you my place, now you have to show me yours?"
"Yes ... and I wanted to take away your excuse."
"My what...?"
"Gotham. That city created both the rich idiot and the Batman. They're two masks you hide behind. Nobody knows that Bruce Wayne is on the other side of the country, and over here, Batman is a scary campfire story." She clasped his arm. "You've got no choice but to be yourself."
"You might like the rich idiot better."
"Darkseid himself hasn't encouraged self-injury more than the rich idiot. The Batman uses theatrics to terrify criminals. You..." she broke off, collecting her thoughts. "...you miss your parents. You talk to Alfred. You fought for a city that nobody cares about ... and you won me my first bear." Her mouth tightened slightly. "I didn't kiss the idiot or the Batman."
Bruce didn't know what to say ... he was having a hard time connecting his mouth with his brain. Finally, he got words to come out of his mouth.
"Thank you. For believing in me."
"Believing in you is the easy part ... but you're still what Helena would call a 'fixer-upper'."
Bruce glanced sideways, expression neutral. "I've been called worse."
They began their journey again, heading into the middle of the street. They suddenly saw a mass of tables and benches laid out under a large awning. Surrounding the tables were several food stalls.
"Hungry?"
"Are you buying?"
Bruce quickly located and bought two large slices of pizza accompanied by bottled water. They found a table with vacant seating opposite each other, next to a couple in their sixties.
"This is the second time you've bought me a meal involving junk food, Bruce."
He looked around ... there was one stall which sold what seemed to be slabs of lasagne, but that was crowded. "Doesn't seem to be anything else here."
"Next time, we go to Denny's."
Bruce looked at her, a slightly amused expression on his face. "Does that mean there's going to be a next time?"
"A girl has to eat." She took a large bite of the food, and grimaced. "This is more oil than meat."
Bruce took a bite, chewing contemplatively. "I've had worse."
"Alfred said something about your dietary habits." Diana grinned, slightly. "Haven't you heard of TV dinners? I lived on those for months before I finally learned how to operate ovens and hotplates."
Bruce spread his arms wide. "I haven't got the knack of ... cooking."
Diana's eyes widened at this. "You can't cook?"
"Cook, wash, operate a microwave ... basically, anything Alfred can do."
Diana took a swig of water. "Finally, you admit to not doing something as well as the rest of us."
Bruce frowned. "I'm the first to admit that you can outdo anything I can physically."
"I was referring to something normal." Her expression became sly. "Even Kyle can cook better than you can."
"Do you have to rub it in?"
"Oh yes." She pushed the remaining pizza away. "Did Alfred ever try to teach you?"
"Tried. Once. Two fire alarms and three Armanis destroyed. In the end he muttered something about 'job security' and he's never tried again." Bruce took her pizza, his finished, and started on it. "Once you get used to it, this isn't bad..."
Diana snatched it out of his grasp. "We are going to teach you to fend for yourself, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce couldn't help but smile at this. "Alfred can cook English, French, and Oriental cuisine, he's single-handedly arranged fund-raisers for hundreds and has invented a method of sewing kevlar. How can you succeed where he's failed?"
Diana gave him a stern look. "I doubt that a English butler can offer the same kind of..." Bruce suddenly felt fingernails raking along the inside of his thigh. "...incentives I can for success."
The sensation vanished as quickly as it arrived. She hadn't categorically promised anything...
Bruce reminded himself to get Alfred to give him a refresher course.
***
Alfred Pennyworth looked at his new visitor.
A very tall woman, slightly taller than him. Muscular enough to intimidate Master Dick. Redhead.
"May I help you, madam?"
"Are you the servant of Bruce Wayne?" Her accent was virtually identical to Miss Diana's. This must be her ally, the one who replaced her briefly.
"Indeed I am."
"I will wait for Wayne to arrive here. I have business that must be conducted face to face."
"I see." Alfred turned around. "The sitting room has a television and a full bar..."
"I will feel more comfortable if I can see you - at all times." The Amazon was very close to Alfred now, trying to intimidate him.
The man who taught the Batman how to make his dramatic entries and exits merely took her efforts in stride. There were seven different ways to contact Master Bruce despite Artemis' efforts, and even if he couldn't, he always checked the monitors within the house before entering from the Cave.
"I was planning on scrubbing the kitchen. It's not a very exciting task."
The look on Artemis' face stated that she would endure a wait in hell itself in completion of her mission. Alfred sighed and got out the Pledge.
***
"And these are called...?"
"Toffee Apples. Haven't had one in a while. Alfred makes ... made them for Dick, Jason and Tim."
Diana tried one experimentally. The brittle but slightly soft exterior gave way and mixed with the juices of the fruit inside.
"Itsh..." she chewed and swallowed. "It's good."
Bruce was looking at his mournfully. "Alfred makes far better ones."
"You cheerfully eat a substandard pizza but complain about apples covered in sugar..." Diana saw the look on his face and recognised it. Trouble.
She covertly looked where he was staring ... just a girl, a teenaged Latina, and some boy, well-dressed, college age, near a cotton candy machine.
Bruce looked down, apparently rapt in his toffee apple, his lips not moving. "Their clothing are from different ends of the social spectrum..."
Diana glanced again. Yes, his looked like designer labels whereas hers were probably from Target's stocktake clearance ... hardly a red flag though.
"...and those five on your left are looking for somebody. At least one has a gun, possibly a .38 revolver. Chances are she's the girl or former girlfriend of one of those youths and she's trying to move up in the world."
Diana scanned again - damn it, yes, five, all decked out in the same black-and-red motif, the leader with an angry/frantic look she'd seen before on a man who'd been holding his ex-wife and her lover hostage.
Bruce's expression was that of the Bat again. "How long would it take you to get into costume?"
Diana looked at her bag. "If I can find a place, about one and a half min..."
"Too long." Stated Bruce, getting up. Already the group had seen the girl and the college kid. "Protect the bystanders." He started ambling over casually towards the cotton candy machine.
Diana quickly took her bracelets from her bag and snapped them on while getting up. She got towards the edge of the crowds nearest the youths.
Standard procedure - one takes the enemy, the other guards the civilians. Normally, in an urban situation, just showing up in costume was enough to make them give up or run for it, but the gang had already seen the mis-matched couple, and was heading towards them.
Bruce, however, had slipped into 'idiot' mode, and crashed straight into the leader, confirming he had a loaded pistol and a knife in his right and left pants pockets. "Ooops. Sorry."
The boy looked at Bruce, then pushed past - or tried to, he had 'accidentally' grabbed the aggressor's arm and swung them around, almost crashing into the others behind him.
The couple was frozen at the sight, until a pair of hands clasped their shoulders. They turned to see Diana behind them, beckoning them to follow.
The leader of the group saw his girl and the yuppie being led into the crowd, and tried to push away from this retard that was clinging to him like a cockroach.
He had reached breaking point about half an hour ago. He reached into his pocket, and tried to draw his gun, intent on winging the bitch.
Bruce saw the move. His reaction was aided by years of practice - and the fact that a gun, buried deep in a pocket, is near impossible to draw quickly, because it will snag on virtually anything and everything.
His grip found the youth's wrist, and squeezed at a critical point. As the pain from the crushed ligament began to register, a powerful blow cracked his jaw in two places, followed by a swift headbutt.
The leader went down immediately, but two of his friends had time to pull out their weapons - a motorcycle chain and a knife respectively.
The other two had gone after Diana and the couple.
***
Diana was hauling the two behind her, going through the eating area. Get these two to safety. Then pick up Bruce.
Was it possible to have an evening out without getting into a fight, or was it just her?
She heard them - one was running around the awning, the other barrelling through after them. Great.
Diana stopped, and turned to face the boy, barely more than fifteen, yet taller than her, and carrying a screwdriver with a seven-inch shaft sharpened to a point.
Nearby was a forty-four gallon steel barrel being used as a trash can. Diana picked it up, and as easily as a mortal would throw a beach ball, she threw it towards the youth.
It impacted, bouncing off him as he hit the ground. Diana caught it, and set it down, then picking up the youth with one hand and placing the semi-conscious boy headfirst into used plastic, paper, and at least three children's vomit.
The people around them were staring at this shameless exhibit of strength. "I'm trying out for the WWF."
Suddenly she grabbed the girl, and hauled the teenager towards her, the aluminium baseball bat narrowly missing and on an intercept course with Diana's head.
She caught it, and tightened her grip. The metal impacted like foil under her fingers.
"Run."
The remaining gang member saw the damage to his bat, the determination in her eyes, and took off.
Diana was about keep going when she remembered Bruce had three of them to deal with.
She looked at the couple. "You two, I want you to get out of here and go to the police, okay?"
They looked at her, gave their affirmations, and headed out of the area.
Diana turned, and started running.
Don't be stupid, Bruce fights gang members armed with semi-automatic weaponry, deranged psychopaths and metas on a daily basis. Three teenagers aren't even going to make him sweat, let alone hurt him.
Damn it, Diana, why are you so worried?
***
Bruce had spared a single glance to make sure that the leader was out of the fight before turning his attention to the others.
The problem was, he mused, that if you're trained in several martial arts, it's easy to forget that the rest of the world don't have formal fighting patterns, and while you're trying to figure out if they're using the crane style or the Shaolin-la form, they're just trying to stick a shiv in your ribs and steal your wallet while you're bleeding to death.
The one with the chain was swinging it around his head trying to gain momentum. Bruce gave him an incentive by moving closer towards him.
Chain came up, and sent the spinning metal towards Bruce's head.
Instead, Bruce bent backwards, letting the metal clear his face by half an inch. When the object had cleared him, he snapped back up, using all the power in his back and abdomen, and used the half-second opportunity to send two rigid fingers into the boy's eyes.
With a howl of pain, the kid went down, and Bruce turned to see the boy with the knife move to make a diagonal slash which would lay open his face...
...and Bruce kicked, once, a single forward motion directly into his attacker's groin. The force lifted the gang member off his feet, travelling two and a half feet backwards, and sent him crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap.
The two took twenty-odd seconds to deal with. Bruce took their weapons, and headed back towards the eating area. The crowd that gathered to watch started cheering and applauding.
***
By now Diana had reached where she had started, and saw Bruce finishing off the last one with a simple economic blow. The relief she felt was almost physical in form.
Bruce saw her arrive, and waved, making a quick gesture to grab their bags. Of course, a quick getaway was inevitable now.
As she grabbed their belongings, checking that none of them had been pilfered, a blonde girl looked at Diana. "Do you know that guy?"
"Oh yes."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
Diana was about to automatically reply in the negative when something kicked in.
"Yeah. He's my boyfriend."
The girl grinned. "Cool."
The realisation slowly enveloped her like a wave.
I have a boyfriend.
The Batman is my boyfriend.
Bruce Wayne is my boyfriend.
By the time she had assimilated the last fact, she had noticed the size of the smile on her face.
***
Bruce strode towards the awning, and scanned Diana. She was fine ... of course she's fine you idiot. She can deck Clark if she wanted to, so why should you be worried?
Why is she smiling like that?
He decided to ask her later. He accepted congratulations from the crowd - thanking the gods that none of them took a photo, or a camcorder for a news feature. Bruce walked over to Diana, and quickly scanned her "Are you all right?"
"Actually, I'm great."
"What do you..."
His words were cut off when she wrapped her arms around him, and gave him the kind of kiss which not only shuts you up, but makes you forget where and who you are.
Pleasant as it was, he had to break it off, however, because he needed more oxygen than she did. She looked at Bruce, rubbing her thumb on his cheek. "You're my boyfriend."
Bruce looked slightly shocked ... then a slow smile began creeping across his face. "You're ... you're my girlfriend."
For a moment, they stood there, looking at the other, becoming aquatinted with the concept.
"We're in agreement then?"
"Sounds like it."
They heard sounds of the police, heading towards them.
"Where to?"
"Your place or mine?"
"Yours ... I sometimes get uninvited guests."
With that, they headed to the edge of the crowd.
By the time anyone in authority had reached the scene, they had completely disappeared.
***
Artemis slumped at the kitchen counter, glowering. "I do not trust you, manservant."
"I regret to hear that, madam."
"Just because your master is her ... current interest, does not grant you any liberties at all, do you understand?"
"Crystal clear madam." Came Alfred's distant voice, as he rummaged through a cupboard. He finally emerged, sporting a pair of alligator oven mitts. "Can you open the oven door, madam?"
Artemis stomped over, on the verge of telling him where to stick it, and opened the door. She was about to stomp back, and glower on the stool when her nose started flaring like a rampaging wild boar.
"Wh ...what is..."
"That..." stated Alfred, taking two metal trays of piping hot biscuits and taking them to the counter. "...is my latest creation. Triple-chocolate chip cookies, with extra butter."
Artemis' nose was twitching madly, and her mouth was beginning to salivate uncontrollably. "I ... I haven't..."
Alfred quickly and efficiently started placing the cookies onto a cooling mesh. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you taste one for me? I need an unbiased opinion otherwise it's not worth baking them again."
Artemis swallowed, unable to take her eyes off the morsels in front of her. "I... I ... Diana requested that I help ... why not?"
Alfred gave a wan smile, then placed three cookies onto a plate, adding a folded napkin, then pushing it across the counter. "Thank you madam. I have to warn you, it's rather..."
The redhead took two cookies off the plate, and shovelled them into her mouth without ceremony.
"...hot."
Artemis chewed twice, and swallowed. Her eyes took a glazed look as Alfred's creation, made with a specially imported butter, overwhelmed her taste buds and shut down half her higher brain functions.
Then she looked at him with a predator's gaze, making him feel slightly worried.
***
Diana was flying him home. He had changed into his costume, because his cowl had incorporated lenses which protected his eyes from the high speeds they were travelling. It didn't take long before she had reached the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne Manor was located.
Diana landed on the two acres of front lawn. The Batman walked towards the gardener's shed and started changing.
The Amazon followed, and started watching the Batman change.
"That is not behaviour befitting a Princess of the Amazon nation." Stated Batman, now down to his skintight leggings.
"It's within my rights now that we're officially a couple." Retorted Diana, haughtily. "Failure to observe the goods is considered grounds for break-up."
Goods? As Bruce mulled over this side of Diana, he was now down to the jockstrap and extra-strength athletes cup (rated against a .22 calibre) and rapidly getting back into his civvies. Diana inclined her head and had a good long look at the rear.
"Did you know there's a show in Los Angeles where somebody in a bat costume gets down to nothing but the cape and mask?"
"I never knew you went to those places."
"Oh I didn't. Donna went when she heard about it. Tried to imagine it was you, peeling off clothes to 'It's Raining Men' Laughed her head off, but nearly made the poor man on stage trip over."
"It's Raining..."
"Gay bar."
Bruce tried to imagine the scene, a slight smirk raising.
Diana noticed this. "A smile and a near one in less than three days." She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear. "At this rate, you're going to be acting like a human being in no time."
Bruce finished changing, then the two headed to the Manor. Diana noticed her hand had automatically slipped into Bruce's now, with the ease of familiarity.
As they headed to the front door, they slowed when they saw a translucent sled parked near the front door.
"Artemis." hissed Diana.
"Alfred's in as well." Noted Bruce.
The two entered the front hall, Bruce reaching for an authentic Louisville slugger signed by Mickey Mantle.
Diana looked at him. "A baseball bat? Are you crazy? This is Artemis!"
Bruce looked at the bat, then her. "I was just..."
She snatched the bat, then reached for one of a pair of mounted ornamental, but fully serviceable battle-axes. She hefted it experimentally before placing it in his hand. "That's more like it."
They both heard the moan from the other side of the room. Carefully, they crept over to the door, and listened carefully.
"Ohhh ... mmhhh ..." sounds of swallowing, gulping. "That is.... more. I would like more."
"I'm glad that my efforts are appreciated, madam."
More swallowing, liquid gulping. Chewing?
"I thought you would appreciate that, madam."
"Can you do no wrong? More! I SAID MORE!"
"At this rate..."
"I SAID MORE!!!"
Diana looked at Bruce quizzically, who shrugged in response. A frantic movement, a chair dragging against the floor, the swallowing sounds escalating. "Damn you Alfred, if there were any man worth worshipping on this planet, it would be you..."
"Shall I quote you as a reference, madam?" The sounds reached a crescendo ... then slowly slowed down. "Are you sure that was all, Alfred?"
"I told you, there isn't any more left."
Her voice was a chilling monotone. "Then I suggest you get some more."
The kitchen door suddenly opened, to show an immaculate Alfred Pennyworth, wearing an apron and wearing alligator oven mitts. "Sir, madam - It looks like I have to go shopping."
"Alfred ... what was going on in there?"
A slight smile. "An old British method of diplomacy, madam. If you'll excuse me..."
As Alfred headed for the garage, Artemis crashed through the door, hair dishevelled, eyes shining bright. "Alfred? You must..."
"Miss Artemis, I have to go and buy some more butter."
"I will fly you there!" She shouted, stopping only to lick her fingers. She turned to Bruce, eyes bright. "Wayne, to have that man's talents all hours of the day ... Diana, you will not be sorry!" She hurried off after the butler.
Bruce placed a hand to his head, wondering. "Looks like Alfred made the peace."
"Obviously. Do we want to know how?"
Bruce debated the issue. "He'll tell us when he's ready."
"Artemis will probably say ... something."
"It's their own business."
"Why should we..."
"Are you as disturbed as I am?"
"You have no idea."
***
Well, hopefully this wasn't another victim of the dread plague sequelitus.
Please send any and all feedback to atullberg@mydeja.com