Chapter 4  --  Sunday Morning

 All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Note: This story takes place before the events in "Graduation Day".

This time Bruce was not waiting for me as I materialized on the transporter pad in the Batcave.  I was a little surprised, but shrugged and flew up the stairs to the house.  Once past the grandfather clock, I thought it best not to fly, so I walked down the steps and through the drawing room into the kitchen.

"GOOD MORning," I called, realizing halfway through that Bruce and Alfred had a guest.  She looked to be seven or eight years younger than Bruce, with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes whose beauty could not be hidden by her glasses.  But the thing I noticed first was the wheelchair she sat in.

"Good morning, Diana," Bruce answered calmly, although I thought I detected a twinkle in his eyes.  "Sorry I wasn't there to greet you but we had an unexpected guest.  This is Barbara Gordon, a friend of the family.  Both families," he added rather cryptically.

"Oh.  I'm glad to meet you, Barbara."

"And I'm glad to meet you, Diana."

We shook hands.  I looked hesitantly at Bruce.  I took his comment to mean that she knew about his other identity, but I didn't want to say anything revealing without a more definite indication.

Bruce picked up on my uncertainty and said, rather ironically, "Oh, we have no secrets from Barbara."

I raised an eyebrow at this.  "You must be a most remarkable woman, in that case."

Barbara smiled.  Bruce replied, simply, "Yes."

I realized that she must be the 'representative' of the Batclan that Bruce had predicted would show up. Why this woman, rather than Dick or Robin or the new Batgirl, I didn't know.  Bruce held my chair as I sat down and tried to puzzle it out.  Something about her seemed familiar.

"Have we ever met before?"

Barbara's eyes darted to Bruce, who gave her an "I-told-you-so" smile.

"Yes," she said.  "Quite a few years ago, we met, briefly.  I'm surprised you remember."

"I don't really.  You just look familiar, somehow."

Barbara smiled, but it seemed strained.  "Considering how many people you must meet, that's still impressive."

I tried to recall meeting her.  Barbara Gordon, Gotham City....

"Any relation to James Gordon, the former police commissioner?"

Barbara replied, rather reservedly, "He's my father."  Well, that was a connection of sorts to the 'Bat family'.  I remembered something Dick had said last time, about visiting Babs at the Clocktower and Bruce saying that Dick sometimes spent the night there.  This Barbara, I thought, was almost certainly Dick's 'Babs' and so probably his girlfriend.  That explained a lot.

"So you're here to find out if I really am crazy enough to want a relationship with Bruce?" I asked, remembering what else Bruce had said the last time I was here.

I heard a choking sound from Bruce.  Alfred raised an eyebrow.  Barbara blinked and then grinned.  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.  I'm supposed to bring a report back to Robin, Batgirl, Spoiler and Dinah, who all think Dick must have been hallucinating," she confided.

I smiled at this.

"As a result of sugar poisoning from all the chocolate chip pancakes and maple syrup he ate, no doubt," Bruce put in dryly.

Barbara looked envious.  Alfred interjected, "I would be happy to make you chocolate chip pancakes, if you wish, Miss Barbara."

She looked tempted but resolutely shook her head.  "Granola and a banana, if it's not too much trouble, Alfred."

"Not at all."  He turned and headed off to fetch the granola.

"We'll be having crepes and homemade Loganberry jelly," Bruce told me.

"Loganberry jelly?" I asked.

"From the Pacific Northwest.  There is a company that produces it commercially, but Alfred has found a couple of little old ladies who make it especially for him.  He buys their entire output at some extravagant price and has it FedEx'd here.  It supplements their retirement, they enjoy making it for 'someone who really appreciates it' and we get a taste treat."

I glanced at Barbara and Bruce added, "Barbara won't have any.  Too many calories."

She looked glum.  "I have to watch what I eat."

She didn't look like she had an ounce of excess fat on her, but perhaps that was because she watched what she ate so carefully.  I didn't comment as I had found that many women are quite irrational on the subject of their weight.

Instead, I said, "Getting back to the original topic...."  I immediately had their attention.  Since my statements on this subject seemed to produce an inordinate amount of choking and coughing, I felt I had better get it out of the way before we starting eating, to minimize the risk of serious consequences.

"Yes, Bruce and I are having sex."  Right on schedule, Barbara choked and then started coughing.  It did not look life threatening, so I continued.  "Yes, we are trying to have a 'relationship'.  I love him and he loves me."

I stopped at that point and surveyed my audience with some concern.  Poor Bruce looked slightly stunned by my pronouncements and Barbara was now coughing worse than ever.  I started to become concerned but, when I got up to help her, she waved me back.

"Wow," she said after a minute.  "I heard you were big on the truth, but I never expected....  Wow."

"Should I not have said so much?" I asked Bruce.  "After what I blurted to Dick, there didn't seem any point in concealment."

Bruce had recovered his poise and now shrugged.  "She didn't choke to death, so I would say you did fine," he replied.

Barbara grinned again.  "Oh, I'm not complaining.  The others are going to be so mad they missed this.  Serves them right for chickening out and sticking me with the job.  So, give.  When did all this happen?"

"I don't think we need to...." Bruce tried to interject.

"Bruce kissed me when we were back in Bronze Age Atlantis, rescuing Orin."

"We were about to die," Bruce interposed.  "I don't think it was...."

"Really?"  Barbara looked at Bruce, impressed.  "I wouldn't have thought he had it in him."

"Thanks, Barbara.  I appreciate the vote of confidence."  We ignored Bruce's attempt at sarcasm.

"So when we got back, I said we had to talk and he invited me over for dinner.  That was two weeks ago."

"Ah ha!  So that's why you cancelled on Dick the last two Sundays!" Barbara crowed.  When I looked confused, she explained.  "Sunday night is usually when Dick comes over for dinner.  But the last two Sundays, Bruce said he couldn't make it.  He SAID he had too much WORK."

We both turned and glared at Bruce.

"I did have too much work..."

"Is that what I am?" I asked sweetly.  "Work?"

"Resolving the ... complications arising from that kiss WAS work-related," he answered, as if explaining to a slow pre-schooler.  "And the next week, there was the matter of Ra's al Ghul."

"That's true," I told Barbara.  "He showed up late, with a sword wound."  I turned to Bruce.  "How is that healing?"

He waved away my concern.  "It's fine, but I would rather you not...."

I turned back to Barbara.  "Actually, both Sundays were pretty much flops.  The first time, he had to leave early when the Batsignal came on.  But at least he admitted he loved me before he left."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

We both turned to face Bruce.

"Barbara, I tolerated this because I know that all of you... care about me and are... concerned for me."  He spoke in the cold, commanding voice of the Batman.  "But you have now heard all you need to know.  The rest is private."

We looked at Bruce.  We looked at each other.

"So, he really said he loved you?" Barbara asked me.  I nodded happily.  Bruce sighed.

"Yes, he did, although I didn't tell him I loved him until the third date, just before we...."

"DIANA!"

"Does having sex on the third date make me a 'loose woman'?" I asked Barbara curiously.  I had been wondering about this, but had no one to ask.  Bruce sighed again, more loudly.

"Well," Barbara replied judiciously, "you've known him for years, it's not like it's someone you picked up in a bar.  So I'd say that, if anything, that's on the conservative side," she finished up reassuringly.

"Oh," I said.  "That's too bad.  I rather liked the idea of being a 'loose woman'."

"Diana," Bruce interjected.  "No one will EVER call you a 'loose woman'.  Now, if we can change the...."

"Oh well," I sighed.  "I suppose not."

Barbara glanced at Bruce and she asked, mischievously, "So how is he in bed?"

Bruce's fist slammed down onto the kitchen table with a sound like Zeus's thunderbolts.

"That is NOT a topic that will be discussed at MY table," he said in a voice of doom.  "EVER."

"Surely, Master Bruce, I taught you never to raise your voice to a lady," commented Alfred reprovingly as he wheeled a food trolley into the breakfast nook.

"Uh."  Bruce reddened.  "Well...."

"We will speak of this later, sir" Alfred informed him as he brought forth a cornucopia of food.  This time, in spite of our entreaties, he would not stay to eat.  He said he had too much to do and we would speak more freely without him.  Bruce and I consumed crepes and loganberry jelly, rounded out with fresh strawberries.  Barbara crunched her granola, casting covetous glances at our food.  We could not convince her to eat any of the crepes but she did finally take a couple of strawberries.

Then she turned to me and grinned.  "I can't believe he told you he's in love with you!"

"I'm not."

We both turned to stare at Bruce.  "Bruce?" I asked uncertainly.

"I am not one of those idiots in love, all gooey-eyed and thinking their lover is perfect and life is wonderful," he stated categorically.  He turned to face me.

"I...." He gulped.  "I love her, which is a different thing altogether."  We shared a look that, I suspected, appeared all gooey-eyed to Barbara.

"Oooookay," said Barbara tentatively, "I can see the difference."  She looked critically at Bruce and added, "NOT."

Bruce turned towards her.  "Being in love is about YOU, while loving someone is about THEM.  'Being in love' is ultimately selfish because it is about what makes you feel good.  The object almost doesn't matter because you don't really love them.  Instead you create this perfect 'soul mate' in your mind and you project that image onto the object of your love.  That's why people 'in love' attribute all sorts of good qualities to their lover that everyone else can see they don't have, and that's why they are blind to their lover's obvious faults.  Of course, sooner or later, as they get to know them better, they realize that their lover isn't what they imagined them to be and they fall out of love."  He sniffed.

"You're describing infatuation," I said.  He turned and smiled at me.

"Infatuation, yes."  He turned back to Barbara and continued.  "Loving someone, on the other hand, is about THEM, about knowing and understanding them.  You cannot love someone you don't really know.  That's why 'love at first sight' is such a load of tripe.  When you love someone, you see them as they are and you love them as they are, warts and all, not some imagined perfect soul mate.  That's the difference."

He turned back to me.  "I know Diana isn't perfect," he began.

"Really?" asked Barbara skeptically.

"She is headstrong and stubborn and too sure of herself and uncompromising when she thinks she is right."

"I can see how incompatible you are," interjected Barbara flippantly.

"She can be hot-tempered and occasionally intemperate and sometimes too soft-hearted."

"You sure you want a relationship with this guy, Diana?"

But I barely heard her words, for my attention was held by Bruce's eyes and the light shining in them.

"I don't love her in spite of these faults."  He paused for a moment and said, "I love her because of them.  They are part of who she is and without them she wouldn't be the person I love."

Barbara sighed enviously.  "Okay, I take it all back.  Diana's not crazy to want a relationship with you."

She turned to me.  "Although you do know that he has all those faults and more?"

I smiled.  "I know."

"And that he hides his emotions and pushes people away when they try to get too close?"

Bruce grimaced, but didn't object.  I nodded.

"And that he has no sense of humor?"

"I do too have a sense of humor!"

"He does too have a sense of humor!"

She smiled.  "Well, if you think he has a sense of humor, all I can say is, you must be in love with him."

"Thank you, Barbara," Bruce responded dryly.

Barbara rolled away from the table.  "I need to use the little girl's room.  Diana, come with me?"

It occurred to me that she might need assistance and wouldn't want to ask Bruce or Alfred.  I nodded and stood.

As she rolled down the hall, she said, "You know a relationship with Bruce isn't going to be easy?"

"No," I agreed.  "Not easy, but worth it."

"I'm glad you think so.  We all care about the big guy and, well, if this goes south, I think it's going to really tear him up.  As bad as Jason, maybe."

I hadn't thought of it in quite those terms.  Could I hurt Bruce as much as the death of his ward, Jason Todd?

"In other words," I suggested, "don't screw it up?"

She grimaced.  "I was thinking more about Bruce screwing it up.  He doesn't have a great track record with women, you know."

By this time, we had reached the bathroom.  Barbara turned the knob and pushed her way in.

"If he does something stupid or acts like a jerk – which is almost guaranteed to happen at some point, I think it's programmed into the Y chromosome – or his attitude gets to you or, well, anything, give one of us a call.  We'll be happy to do whatever we can to help, provide a shoulder to cry on or go knock some sense into him – because it's just as certain that he won't have meant to hurt you.  At least, he better not have."  She stopped and sighed, then started shifting herself onto the toilet.  "We'll do whatever we can to keep him from being hurt again," she concluded softly.

I was fascinated by the ease and grace with which she managed the operation.  "You do that so easily," I marveled.  "You clearly didn't invite me along for assistance."

"Nope."  She smiled.  "I just wanted a chance for a private chat."

It occurred to me that she might want a little privacy.  I turned my back.  "It's good to know he has people who care about him so much."

"He has a FAMILY," Barbara corrected me firmly.  "Okay, you can turn around now."  She managed the shift back onto her wheelchair with, if anything, more grace than before.  Noticing my rapt interest, she raised her arms and tossed her head.  "TA DA!  And now for my next trick...."

Recognition burst upon me.  "You were Batgirl," I exclaimed.  "The original Batgirl.  We fought together against Queen Bee."

Barbara looked chagrined.  "How... I mean... oh shit."  She shrugged and tried to smile.  "Yeah, I was Batgirl.  How did you make me?"

"The look on your face.  It was just like after we beat Queen Bee.  I'll never forget that look.  It was so full of joy and exuberance and self-confidence.  I always wondered what happened to you," I finished sadly.

She gave me a crooked half-smile.  "Now you know."

I nodded towards her legs.  "Was it in action?"

"No.  I... answered the door without checking to see who was on the other side.  Ironic, huh?"  She smiled bitterly, then shook her head and tried to give me a real smile.

"It is good to know you are still overcoming adversity and winning victories, even if they are a different sort of victory," I said.

"Is that what I'm doing?" she asked mockingly.  "Is that how you see it?"

"It's not how I see it that matters," I told her.  "Queen Bee or a toilet, if you can smile like that, then it's a victory."

She looked at me for a long moment, then gave a genuine smile.  "Bruce is a lucky man."

"And I am a lucky woman."

"Yeah, in many ways, I think you are.  Just as long as you don't let his, uh, less desirable traits get you down."

"The bad with the good, I don't get to pick and choose.  I've had to remind myself of that already."

"I can believe it."  And, laughing together, we set out back towards the kitchen.

Author's Note:  Batgirl fought Queen Bee alongside the JLA in issue 60 of the original Justice League of America book.  I can't remember whether Wonder Woman was in that issue and I have no idea whether it considered in continuity anymore.  I have assumed both for the purposes of this story.  Bruce's opinions on love are his own and do not necessarily represent the views of the management, who take no responsibility for them!