Haunted
Ugly_Girl (mickerella@yahoo.com)

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em. The only real crime I'm committing is the overuse of adverbs, and ending far too many sentences with prepositions.

A/N: This story was inspired by a challenge given on the JL Animated RPG message boards (like Artemis's "Sick Day" short). The first paragraph was given to us…the rest was up to the author.

HAUNTED

Part III

"Don't you remember what I told you about the idle rich?" Shayera said, her voice full of exasperation. She was lounging across Diana's bed, watching the other woman prepare herself for the evening out.

Which meant, for someone like Diana, simply brushing her hair and dressing. Diana hadn't yet gotten past the hair stage; she was having far too much fun talking with Hawkgirl.

"But they weren't always idle," Diana said. She looked uncertainly at a bottle of hair gel Flash had insisted she'd borrow. Gotta do the 'do if you want to impress the gents, he'd said. Since the Waynes had declared the bachelors would donate more money trying to impress Diana, she'd thought she should try to look her best so they'd give as much as possible. She didn't intend to attract any men, but if they gave a lot to the clinic, it was worth covering herself in ridiculous styling products. "Mr. Wayne said he'd been a doctor."

"And what is he now?" Shayera rolled her eyes. "I don't know about the parents, but I've seen Bruce Wayne on TV many times since coming to Earth. He supposedly runs the family business, but it looks to me like he just parties and travels and is a generally useless person who hangs around with useless beautiful women."

"Well," Diana said, squirting some of the gel onto her hand, "They did mention they were disappointed in the way their son had turned out. That's got to be a sign that they are better than Bruce, or at least have higher standards." She stared at the liquid on her palm, then grimaced and slid her hand down the center of her hair.

Shayera frowned. "That looks pretty bad."

Diana looked in the mirror, at the wet streak of hair plastered to her scalp like a racing stripe. "I think it is supposed to look better once it dries." She wiped the remaining gel from her hand onto a towel, and turned to her closet.

Shayera hopped eagerly from the bed. "What did you decide to wear…oh." Diana had a total of three things in her closet: a t-shirt, an extra uniform, and a long dress hidden under a plastic bag. "There goes the fun of trying on a million different outfits before picking one," she said.

Diana reached for the dress' hanger. "Do women really do that in Man's World?"

Shrugging, Shayera replied, "I'm not sure. I've seen it on TV and read about it. I think it is a standard ritual before going out."

"You've been out before," Diana said, throwing the other woman a quizzical glance.

"Yeah, but not to a function like this." Shayera flopped back down on the bed. "The places I go to are jeans-friendly."

Diana removed the plastic from the dress, and Shayera sat up again. "Diana, where did you get that?" Deep red and made of real silk, the dress was long and would fit close to Diana's form, cut very low in the back, and held in place with tiny shoulder straps studded with chips of what Shayera suspected were real rubies.

Blushing slightly, Diana admitted, "Remember when we first joined the Justice League, and a bunch of companies sent us gifts and products, hoping we'd either become spokeswomen or receive free advertising by using their gifts?"

Shayera nodded. "But we decided to give it all to charity…Diana, you didn't." Amusement sparked in her eyes.

"I couldn't resist," Diana said. "It was so bright and beautiful, and it felt so wonderful. I haven't felt material like this since I was on Themyscira…" She slipped her hand over the silk and sighed blissfully.

"I kept the Playstation 2," Hawkgirl said. "It had this really great game where you beat down the bad guys while searching through tombs, and another where you get to be a detective…" She stopped, and both women began laughing.

Diana slipped the dress over her head, but paused before getting it over her shoulders. Seconds later, she was pulling it off again, heading for the bathroom.

"Diana? What's wrong?"

Diana spun around and pinched together the hair she had gelled. Shayera heard a distinct CRUNCH! and her mouth rounded in a shocked 'O'. "It's dry? But it still looks so wet!"

"I'm going to wash my hair, again," Diana said. "And then we'll find Flash. You get to hold him down while I shove that bottle of gel somewhere interesting."

Shayera burst into laughter again. "You are such a good friend, Diana. You always let me join in when you do something really fun."

Diana spun around again and entered the bathroom, muttering invectives about Man's World, beauty products, and the ridiculousness of impressing stupid rich bachelors in general.

************

"Are you certain you are up to this, sir?" Alfred said.

Bruce stared into the mirror. Clever use of concealer had masked the dark circles under his eyes, eyedrops had removed the red, bloodshot appearance he'd had for the last several days. He pasted on his dopey Bruce Wayne grin, trying it out.

He looked like dopey Bruce Wayne. "I think I'll pass, Alfred. If anyone notices anything, they'll just think I'm recovering from a hangover." He took one of the shirts Alfred held out, slid it on. "In any case, it is too late to cancel now, even if I wasn't up to it." He glanced around the room, saw that the two shadowy figures were still in the corner, dripping blood onto the carpet. He could hear their whispers.

...you weren't fast enough…

…why didn't you save us…

Alfred looked at the corner, too. "Do you think we'll have trouble with our…uninvited guests?"

Bruce shook his head, hoping more than knowing it was true. "So far, only you and I have been able to see them – the staff we've hired to help with the fundraiser hasn't noticed anything, even though I've seen them walk right past the apparitions." Bruce knew that often even Alfred didn't notice them. They concentrated around Bruce, only appearing to him the majority of the time. He didn't mention to the older gentleman how many he'd seen; he didn't want Alfred more concerned than he already was.

…you failed us…

He closed his eyes, tried to shut out the voices. "Alfred, have they been coming while I'm not here?"

"Only Jason, sir." Alfred sighed, letting his grief show for just a moment before regaining his composure. "He asks where you are, then disappears when I tell him you are out. And they have yet to appear in my suite, or the kitchens."

…we needed you, and you weren't there, couldn't save us…

"Jason." Bruce bowed his head, took deep breaths. Seconds later he looked up again, pasted on the Bruce Wayne expression. Behind him, the figures moaned and whispered. I can do this, he thought.

But for the first time since becoming Batman, he wasn't so sure.

**********

"Wha…What?!" Superman stared at Diana in disbelief, a blush crawling up his neck. "What did you say?"

Diana looked at him over her shoulder, sticking out her right hip a little more. "Does my butt look big?" Superman continued to make those gasping-fish motions with his mouth, so she decided to explain. "Shayera says that it is customary before going out in a new dress to ask a man if one's bottom appears large. You were the first man I saw."

"Oh." Clark blinked quickly, trying to look anywhere but at the perfectly shaped derriere Diana had nearly thrust into his face. "Um, no, it looks fine."

Diana turned her head to look down at herself, thrusting her hips far backward so that she could see the curve of her own bottom. "Does that mean it looks big or small? Neither Hawkgirl nor I were sure if it was supposed to be large or small, we just knew we had to ask the question. Which one is better? Big or little?"

"Um, little, I think," Clark choked out. He frantically searched for another subject, anything. "You look nice. Where are you going?"

Diana stopped wiggling and turned to face him. "The Waynes invited me to a fundraiser in Gotham."

Clark's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Bruce Wayne invited you?"

"No, his parents did. Thomas and Martha," Diana said. "I met them at Dr. Thompkins's clinic yesterday." Clark frowned, and Diana glanced at him curiously. "What is it?"

What could he say? "Uh…nothing," he said. "Have you seen Batman lately? I need to talk to him."

"He hasn't contacted us since we were in South America," Diana informed him. She turned to go, then threw over her shoulder, "If you see him, tell him that I have a legitimate reason to be in Gotham tonight, so that I don't have to face a lecture tomorrow." She paused, thought about their argument several days ago, the strange things she'd felt and seen in the cave. "And if he looks like he hasn't slept in a couple of days, let me know. I'm trying to get him into bed more often, one way or another." She stalked off down the hall.

She probably didn't know how that sounded, Clark realized, and couldn't suppress a grin. His smile faded, though, when he thought about her claim that Bruce's parents had given her an invitation. Was there a couple in Gotham masquerading as Thomas and Martha Wayne? If so, Bruce would definitely want to know.

He turned and headed for the communications room.

Part IV

If the butler was surprised that a member of the Justice League was standing on his doorstep, he didn't show it. Diana smiled at him, gave him her invitation. He glanced at it, then stepped back, opening wide the door.

"Excuse my rudeness, Princess Diana. I hadn't realized you were on the guest list."

Diana wondered when he had been rude, but said quickly, hoping to ease his discomfort, "Oh, I was a last minute invite, and I forgot to respond to let someone know I was coming. It is I who should apologize. I hope I won't disrupt too many arrangements."

She thought he looked slightly offended. "We are always prepared at Wayne Manor, your highness. And do not apologize, for my employer should have informed me of the last minute change." The butler stepped back, allowing her to come into the entryway. "If you need anything while visiting the Manor, your highness, my name is Alfred. Just ask any of the staff for me, and I'll come immediately."

"Thank you, Alfred," she said. "And call me Diana, please,"

She was sure that he was offended this time. "Surely not, your highness," he said stiffly, and escorted her to the main hall.

The room was filled with Gotham's elite, laughing, conversing, sipping champagne. In the next room, the ballroom, Diana could see many couples dancing. She immediately spotted Leslie Thompkins talking to a large man in a tuxedo, and threaded her way through the crowd to her side.

"Diana," Leslie greeted her, a smile lighting her features. The gentleman with whom she'd been talking excused himself, and left their side. "How wonderful that you came! Bruce didn't mention that you would be here, or that he'd invited you. If he had said something I would have made arrangements for us to arrive together. I didn't even realize that he knew you." Diana could feel Leslie watching her closely, as if wondering if Diana knew something, as if measuring her words to give some meaning behind them.

"I don't think I've ever met Bruce," Diana said, returning the woman's smile. "And from what I've heard from Hawkgirl, I'm not sure I want to," she added with a small laugh.

Leslie chuckled. "Well, he's got hidden depths." Again the questioning look, then it was gone. "But he would be much more…out of control if Alfred wasn't around. That man is a heaven-send." She lifted her hand in a small wave to the butler.

Diana grinned. "I think that I insulted him unintentionally when I came in just now. I told him to call me Diana."

Leslie took a sip of her drink, watching Alfred over Diana's shoulder with an affectionate expression. "Alfred observes the proprieties at all times," Leslie laughed again. "But he was probably very touched that you offered your name to him. He just wouldn't dare show it."

A woman, heavily draped with jewels and satin, rushed up to Leslie's side. "Leslie, darling!" She kissed the doctor on both cheeks. Diana stepped back slightly to escape the cloud of perfume that surrounded her, bumped into a hard chest.

She turned, surprised. She must have been very distracted to let someone get that close without her realizing it. "Excuse me," she said. "I didn't mean to—"

The man surprised her again, lifting her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of her knuckles. His lips were warm and firm. "I don't believe we've met," he said smoothly. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

Ah, so this was the oft-mentioned Bruce Wayne, Diana thought. She studied him quickly. He did resemble his father, and he was certainly handsome, but she could smell the cosmetics he used. Probably to cover up evidence of his wild living, Diana realized. She felt a wave of compassion for Thomas and Martha sweep over her. They deserved better than this slick charmer.

She pulled her hand away. "I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Wayne," she lied. "I am Diana."

"Just Diana?" Bruce smiled, showing brilliant white teeth. "No last name? How will I find your number in the telephone directory without a last name?"

"I don't have a phone," she said. "And I can't imagine why you'd want to call me."

"Can't you?" he asked, and his blue eyes flared with a strange intensity before he blinked, and he was looking at her again with a mixture of boredom and amusement. "Well, if I can't contact you by phone, what about your address? That way I'll know where to send the car to pick you up."

"Space," Diana said. "I live in space."

He gave her a confused look. "Is that the new apartment complex downtown?"

…couldn't save us, we counted on you…

Diana frowned, looked around. Had she just heard that?

"Yes," she answered absently, not really remembering what he'd said.

"Good, then I'll pick you up there at eight tomorrow," Bruce said.

"What?" She gave him her full attention again. "Pick me up where?"

"Your place. For a date." He gave her a dazzling smile.

"I can't," she choked. How had the conversation ended up like this? "I have monitor duty."

His face fell, then brightened. "Well, then, I'll just have to stick closely by your side tonight."

"But—"

…don't leave us, don't let us be alone…

Diana glanced around again for the source of the whisper. Conversations were taking place all around her, but she couldn't imagine anyone here talking in a pathetic, raspy whisper like that.

"I see you've met Bruce, Diana," Leslie joined the conversation again suddenly. She turned to Bruce. "I had just been telling Diana how glad I was that you invited her."

He looked at Diana, suddenly watching her carefully. "And I thought that she'd procured an invitation from the pile I gave you to distribute, Leslie." He lifted an eyebrow, grinned. "Are you gate-crashing, Diana No-Last-Name?"

"I've crashed through no gates," Diana said, feeling suddenly awkward. "Thomas and Martha invited me."

Leslie gasped, and Bruce's expression froze, his skin turning several shades paler.

"Diana! What a horrible thing to say!" Leslie cried. Several heads turned to look at them.

Bruce reached forward, grabbed her hand, holding it in a tight grip. Diana could have gotten away easily, but she had the sinking feeling that she had just said something terribly wrong, so she didn't jerk it away. He began pulling her through the crowd, walking quickly, tugging her along behind him.

She had to break into a jog to keep up with his huge strides, her heels clicking at a rapid pace. "I don't understand what I said wrong, but I'm sorry." Eyes stared as they cleared a path through the chatting groups of people.

"Shut up," he grated out, and her eyes widened. Great Hera—who was this man? That voice…

He pushed open a recessed door that she had barely been able to see, pulled her through, slammed it behind them. The room was sparsely furnished with a sofa and a couple of armchairs. He pointed to a chair, and she sat. Dread built up inside her.

Something was wrong here – so much confusion over the invitations. She suddenly remembered Superman's reaction when she'd mentioned Thomas and Martha's names. Then the whispers. And, now, a playboy bachelor with Batman's voice, only a couple of days after she's seen…something…in the cave.

Bruce was stalking across the room, back and forth, and she watched him as he visibly controlled whatever emotions were raging through him. Finally, he faced her, jaw set but the rest of his face expressionless.

"My parents died twenty years ago, Diana," he said. "I want to know exactly what you meant by that comment out there."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Hera, no…"

"Yes," he said harshly.

She was shaking her head. "There must be some terrible mistake. I talked to them yesterday. They said their names were Thomas and Martha, and they gave me the invitation." Her eyes were wide with concern and regret. "Someone must have been playing a joke on us. I'm so sorry, Batman, but I really didn't know."

"You couldn't have," he muttered, pacing again. His mind raced. Did this have something to do with the apparitions that kept appearing around him, or was Diana right, and had someone simply been playing a cruel game? "Tell me all about your meeting with them," he said suddenly, turning back to her.

She was staring at him with a mixture of shock and wonder, and he abruptly realized what she had called him just moments ago. Batman. And he hadn't reacted, but answered to the name as if he'd been wearing the mask.

"Ah, hell," he said tiredly, and sat down.