As was the case with most places in Man's World, Diana had never been to Baltimore.
Man's World was interesting, and beautiful in its way; she hoped that one day she'd have a chance to see more of it when it *wasn't* in the process of being destroyed. Her trip to Baltimore, unfortunately, did not count as a mark in that column.
"Man," said the Flash, "they're gonna have to float a new bond to pay for that one."
Superman winced as the robot smashed through part of the Inner Harbor complex and made its way for several ships coming into port. "What's it after?" he said. "Last time it was diamonds -- "
"There's a shipment of ancient statues coming in on one of those ships," said Batman. "Destined for the Smithsonian."
"If they're so valuable, why didn't they fly them in?" said Flash.
"Too heavy. The smallest is twelve feet tall and they're made entirely out of gold."
"Yowza!"
"All right," said Superman. "Wonder Woman and I will take the robot on directly -- but Diana, if you see any thugs assisting the robot's theft on the ground again, or putting civilians at risk, stop them. Flash, we'll need to divert its attention, to keep it from focusing in on either one of us."
"I'll run up some water-spouts. That should keep it busy."
"Good. Batman?"
"The new missiles are loaded. I make no promises, but they should slow it down some."
"All right. Then you're air support. Let's move!"
"One more thing," Batman said. "I'm jamming the control frequencies Luthor gave you. There's no effect. Its brain isn't complex enough to handle situations like this on its own. Which means there's somebody inside."
Superman was out of the Javelin before Wonder Woman heard his response, but it sounded suspiciously like, "Good."
+++
Superman flew much faster than Diana could. She wished he weren't so impulsive at times like these. If the last fight had taught them anything, it was that they needed to face the robot as a team. She wondered if it had something to do with Superman's sheer power: he wasn't used to not being able to solve a problem, so on those rare occasions he was frustrated, he came back champing at the bit to make up for his previous mistake. And Superman had been itching to teach the robot a lesson for two days. Except he was leaving her behind.
Looking over her shoulder, Wonder Woman saw that the Javelin had lowered to the surface of the water to let Flash out. He'd catch up to Superman before she would.
The robot must have had some onboard radar capability. Or its eyes were excellent. It spotted Superman well before he made contact. It raised an arm. A hatch on the forearm opened and a formidable laser cannon emerged. It fired instantly. Superman was fast, but not faster than light. The beam hit him dead center. Superman was flung backwards -- whether by the beam or by some spasmodic reflex, Diana couldn't tell. He stopped his fall, but was sufficiently stunned to hang in mid-air, motionless, while the robot targeted him again.
But now she was in a position to do something about it. Diana flung her lasso over the laser cannon and pulled it aside enough to spoil the robot's aim. As Superman gathered himself and made a beeline for the robot again, it fired, and missed. Then it turned its massive head to the side and saw her.
The robot didn't hit her. It just waved its forearm. Diana's lasso went taut in a heartbeat. She tried to hang on, but her inertia dragged her outward. Like a stone from a sling, she went flying.
As she tumbled through the air, she felt a moment's satisfaction to see the first of Flash's water-spouts hit the robot from behind. An instant later, two missiles from the Javelin hit dead center, to no appreciable effect.
Before she could arrest her flight, a powerful arm wrapped around her waist and carried her back in the direction of the robot.
"Going my way?" said Superman.
"Depends," she said. "Will you stick to the teamwork this time?"
He nodded apologetically. "What do you have in mind?" he said.
"Throw me," she said.
He did.
Diana went back toward the robot faster than she'd gone out -- much faster than she could have flown on her own. She used her own abilities to guide her path right back to the dangling end of her lasso. She grabbed it and let her momentum carry her around to the robot's elbow. She had an instant's purchase there. It was enough. She braced herself and yanked with all her might on the unbreakable golden cord.
For an agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then, with a wrenching of metal, the laser cannon tore away. Once free of the robot's arm and the inertia of that initial tug, it fell. The weight pulled Wonder Woman free of the robot just as it started to spin round on her again. Quickly, she adjusted the knot on her lasso, slipping it for a quick release. Then she launched herself into a rapid spin, sending the cannon out to the full length of the rope.
Diana whirled around and around, building up speed until her arms ached. Then, with a harsh, wordless battle cry, she pulled the release cord.
The loosed cannon tore through the air like an eight-hundred-pound Olympic hammer and buried itself with a ferocious crunch in the robot's right eye.
Ha! she thought as the robot reeled. For once, an unqualified success.
Then the robot regained its balance. It swatted Superman aside, then turned to Diana and lifted its other arm. That forearm hatch opened. Out swung a new laser cannon. With six barrels. All of them pointed directly at her.
The robot fired.
The barrels, spinning like those of a minigun, spat energy in rapid succession. Diana brought her bracelets up to block the beams as best she could, but the lasers' sheer power still seeped through. There was a sizzling sound, and the hairs on her arm shrivelled. Diana kept up the best defense she could, but it wasn't much. The heat of her bracelets was rising. At any moment, she expected the smell of burning meat.
Her rescue, when it came, was from an unexpected quarter. With a roar of wind and water, Flash's new water-spout changed course and came between Diana and the robot. The robot's laser hit the spout, which abruptly vaporized into a massive cloud of steam. The robot vanished into the superheated maelstrom.
Diana crossed her arms over her face and let the blast of hot air pass over her. Even outside of the steam cloud, the heat was tremendous. She clipped her lasso to her belt and stared into the depths of what looked like a voluminous, localized fogbank. No sound, no movement.
Then, suddenly, she glimpsed a moving shadow.
"Oh, Hera," she thought.
The robot hit her.
The blow wasn't a brushing aside, as had been had given Superman. The robot punched her dead-on, with all of its weight behind the blow. Diana's near-invulnerability was no match for the robot's strength and sheer mass. She went flying. The powerful acceleration sent her blood rushing away from her head, and as the G-forces battered her she struggled not to pass out. She sensed dimly that she was travelling very fast, but she couldn't see anything she recognized, and wondered if the blue flashing before her eyes was sea or sky.
Then she went through the wall.
+++
Wonder Woman tried to get up, but nothing happened.
"I'll be all right," she whispered to no one in particular. "Just give me a minute..." Lights danced in front of her eyes. What had just happened?
Hang on, she thought. There's something on top of me. And, dancing lights aside, it was awfully dark. Where on earth -- ? Diana tried to wipe her eyes, but couldn't. Her fingers came into contact with something that felt an awful lot like broken cinderblock. Then she realized that it was broken cinderblock, and there was lots of it. She was lying in a pile of rubble.
That made sense, she remembered. She'd gone through a wall. She must have made the docks. Hit a warehouse.
"Ow," she said.
Diana's limbs were starting to work again. Always a good sign. She pushed feebly at the rubble surrounding her. Some of it shifted. Good; she wasn't too far buried. She'd be up and about in a few minutes. Really. And then she'd give the robot a piece of her mind.
As she tried to get a better angle to dislodge the rubble, she heard running footsteps. Then scrabbling sounds from outside the pile. Batman, digging her out again. Nice of him, really.
"Hey, you ought to be proud of me," she said. Her tongue seemed twice as thick as usual, and her mouth was caked with dust. "I went clean through a wall. Last time, I just bounced off one."
She could see light now. More air filtered down to her as he cleared the rubble away. She raised her hands through the hole to help him. Bless that annoying, arrogant, domineering chauvinist...
Wait. Why would Batman be putting handcuffs on her now?
Diana looked up just in time for her supposed rescuer to deliver a hard blow to the side of her head. Black clouds swam before her eyes. She wanted to fight, but her limbs were heavy. More hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the rubble. There was conversation, but Diana couldn't make any of it out. She pawed aimlessly at the air, and realized she was being dragged across the concrete. The handcuffs were tight on her wrists. She fought desperately to stay conscious, to control the situation. Then she saw where they were going. It was a shipping container. Surely her captors didn't mean to ship her.
And then the black clouds rolled over her again.
+++
When Diana came back to herself, she found good news and bad news. The good news was that despite a headache, her brain seemed to be back in working order. The bad news was somewhat more extensive.
Diana's hands were cuffed together. The chain between them ran around a rail of some kind. The rail was bolted or welded to the side of the container. Her feet were cuffed on a longer chain that ran up over the handcuff chain. She was caught in a semi-kneeling position. Her head still rang from the knock she'd been given after the cuffs had been first slapped on. The battle was still raging, and seemed to have moved dockside. Every so often, she heard the sound of something being smashed, or vaporized by the robot's laser.
Oh, she thought, this is very bad.
Diana decided to get her feet first. They were curled up in a horribly uncomfortable position, and if she got them loose she could turn to get at a better angle on her hands. Maybe even see what she was doing. Wouldn't that be nice. Her captors hadn't bothered to search her before locking her up. Her pick was where she had left it.
The lock-picking didn't go as smoothly as it had in her practice sessions in the Watchtower, or even in the Batcave under the Dark Knight's all-disapproving eye. But it worked. Soon she had the first leg cuff free. The second quickly followed. She let them hang from the handcuff chain and twisted her body around.
Very little light penetrated the shipping container, so Diana was forced to work by touch. She found the keyhole and started to work. She tried to ignore the robot's footsteps, and the fact that they were getting closer.
And then the sliver of light was blocked, and a massive boom came from outside the locked container doors as the robot came to stand just outside.
The sound of creaking metal came. Movement. Then a whoosh and a loud collision of some kind. The creaking metal and whoosh came again, and this time Diana faintly heard the shrieking of the Javelin's engines as the craft was put through a high-G maneuver. Then there was a splash.
With a chill, Diana realized what was going on outside. The robot had picked up shipping containers and was throwing them. Her mouth grew dry. Her fingers shook as she redoubled her efforts.
Then the walls of *her* container bulged in, and it was lifted -- goods, Diana, and all -- off the ground. Before Diana could react, she was in free-fall.
She didn't have time to do anything but think a frantic *No* before the shipping container hit --
-- the water. The sides held.
Her fingers didn't.
The pick flew from her hand as her body slammed painfully into the side of the shipping container. Her tool, her salvation, skittered off somewhere into the darkness. She groped for it with her feet, but it was too far gone. All she came up with were the heavy leg restraints, which dangled in front of her face. She tossed them down in disgust. She'd cut her lip, and for the second time in a week she knew the unwelcome, unfamiliar taste of her own blood.
Diana spat. She sat facing the railing to which she was cuffed, pressed her boots against the container side and pushed. Once, twice, again -- nothing. The railing's connection was secure, and she couldn't move more than six inches in either direction before stanchions blocked her progress. She screamed in frustration, then settled down to some serious swearing before her tongue tripped over itself and she was reduced to hammering her fist impotently into the side of the container.
It was a thoroughly unprofessional tantrum, and it didn't do her one damn bit of good. She should have gotten her hands free first -- no, that wouldn't have done anything. She'd still have lost the pick, and wouldn't be able to reach it. And if her legs were chained and her hands free, then she wouldn't have been able to get any leverage against the railing, because she'd be lying face-down in that puddle --
Puddle?
The container was leaking.
She thought she heard a steady flow from the doors and a further trickle from the top, where the robot's grip had dented the metal. She held her breath and listened, trying in vain to calm the thudding of her heart. She couldn't tell how fast the water was coming in, and she couldn't see anything. Which, she realized, told her something. Diana wasn't just floating in the water, or even bobbing along just below the surface. She was sinking.
Diana didn't know how much time she had. She only knew that she was in serious trouble. She realized something about herself that she would been too proud to consider before. Though she was an Amazon, prepared to give her life in battle if need be, Diana did not welcome the idea of dying. And there, in the dark, under water, she realized she was terrified by the prospect that she might drown.
"Oh, hell," she said.
She used her feet to pick up the leg restraints from the floor. She managed, with difficulty, to transfer them to her hands. Wrapping the chain of the leg restraints around her right hand, Diana grasped the bracelets in her fist and pulled her right arm back as far as it would go. Closed her eyes. Breathed a brief prayer to Hera.
And swung with all her might.
The bones of her palm snapped with more difficulty than she'd expected. She needed to take several swings. Her thumb was the hardest; not only did the muscle beneath it make for padding, but she kept trying to tuck it away by reflex, and finally had to put all her weight on it to make sure it held still long enough to smash. Around the third swing, the bracelets -- or maybe it was a splintered bone -- opened her skin and started the blood flowing. Good, she thought. Blood is helpful. She realized it was a very Bat thought to have, and that sickened her a little. She shook her head to clear it, and went back to smashing. She had to hurry. Not long before her hand began to swell, and then she'd really be stuck. Maybe I could gnaw it off, she thought dizzily. She braced her feet along the wall of the container and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. Then threw caution to the wind, rocked her torso forward to gain momentum, and *heaved* with all her might on the backswing.
Her screaming hand came free. So did a fair amount of her skin.
But her strength came flooding back.
The cuff was free of the rail now. Her shattered left hand was too weak to pull the other bracelet off, so Diana tore it free with her teeth. She could feel the bones trying to knit, but it felt wrong. She jammed her left hand into her armpit and ignored its existence. Then she ran, full-tilt, for the shipping container doors. The steel and the ever-increasing water pressure on them were no match for a desperate Amazon. The doors exploded open.
In the next instant, Diana realized she'd have been better off opening them slowly, and letting the pressure equalize. The rushing water threw her right back into the container, where she bounced off the far walls. It knocked the air out of her lungs, which was good for avoiding the bends but not for staying alive however the hell far down she was. She tried to swim back out of the container, but the water was still flooding in. She gulped at the little air remaining. An Amazon doesn't panic, she told herself, and fought a scream. She punched her right hand into the top of the container, in a frantic attempt to escape. She hadn't been thinking. The water sprayed through the hole, pressing her away. She was underwater now. Her lungful of air was running out again.
She throttled down her fear. She couldn't clear the doors, couldn't navigate the top --
Wonder Woman tore through the bottom as if it were a sardine can and swam/flew blindly for the surface.
At least Aquaman hadn't been around to see any of this.
+++
"What in the world were you thinking?" said Superman.
He looked into her face with endearing concern. His handsome features were softly lit by the Earth, glowing through the window behind him. That silly spit-curl hung down on his forehead; some day, Diana thought, she was going to give in to her ever-present urge to brush it away. He shook his head gently, then smiled at her. His fingers curled tenderly around her gnarled, misshapen palm.
Then he broke her hand.
Diana hissed as he eased the bones into a normal configuration. He squinted at her metacarpals, using his X-ray vision to check the placement, then held them and watched the bones knit.
"You know," Superman said nervously, "you really should go to a doctor for this."
"I'm given to understand it'd sort itself out on its own within a few weeks," she said. "I'm just not in any mind to wait around."
"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd really rather not make a habit of this sort of thing."
"Believe me," said Diana, in the most heartfelt tones of which she was capable, "neither would I."
He smiled at that. And broke another bone.
"Did *he* give you the idea for this?" he asked gently, when her eyes quit watering.
No need to ask who "*he*" was. "He saved my life," Diana said. "And he wasn't even there when he did it."
She saw guilt on Superman's face, then. "I'm sorry," he said. After all these years, it still hurt Kal-El that it couldn't save everybody. He'd been so busy with the robot he hadn't even noticed Diana was missing until she spluttered to the surface. Then he'd been frantic to pluck her from the water and take her safely to shore. The robot took the opportunity to get away. Again.
She touched his hand with her good one. "It's not your fault," she said. "Never think that. But I'm glad he thought of it." She shook her head. "When he suggested it as a possibility, I told him he scared me."
"I bet he liked that."
She smiled in memory. "He did."
Superman watched her bones knit in silence for a few moments.
"He's an interesting man, you know," Wonder Woman said. She rested her chin on her good hand and looked at the blue-green planet far below.
"I'd be inclined to agree with you," Superman said. "If I didn't have the feeling you and I would mean something different by 'interesting.'"
"You modern men are something of a mystery to me," she said. "I think I understand you, sometimes -- and then I find I don't, at all. Too many cultural assumptions that are invalid. Too many different manners, beliefs, gut reactions. But Batman... Batman feels familiar."
"I think," said Superman, "that's actually the *last* word I'd use to describe him."
"He reminds me of a Spartan," said Diana.
"I confess I don't remember much of Greek history," Superman said. "I suppose I should read up as a courtesy to you." He frowned. "Spartans. They were a nation of soldiers. Heroes, weren't they?"
"Sometimes," she said. "Just break the next one, will you? I hate waiting."
"Sorry," he said. *Snap.*
As Diana winced reflexively, she caught a reflection in the window. She turned to look. It was Batman. When he'd shown up, she didn't know. She found it unnerving that a man without any superpowers could be so utterly stealthy. Superman, whose ears could hear a pin drop a mile away, didn't notice. Or pretended he didn't. He just held her hand and watched her ravaged bones mend.
Diana turned her head to look directly at Batman. He looked back at her. She felt surprisingly vulnerable now that he was watching her. His emotions were unreadable as ever. He seemed... proud? admiring? jealous? (now where had that last thought come from?) She wondered if she'd surprised him, or if in pulverizing her own hand to tear her way out she'd only lived up to his impossible expectations. She hoped it was a reminder to him that while she accepted his tutelage in some areas, her will was as formidable as his own. And gods, she could feel that look he was giving her in her *toes.*
When Superman broke the last two bones in her palm to set them, she locked her eyes on Batman's and didn't make a sound.
+++
"How's your hand?" Batman said.
"Better," Diana said, flexing it. "The Boy Scout did a good job." Batman smiled at her use of the nickname he'd coined, but still seemed wary. "I'd have asked you to do it," she added. "If you were strong enough to break my bones, and had X-ray vision." He seemed to relax at that, if only for a moment.
She could, she realized, have bound her wrists for him and weakened her bones enough for Batman to break them. And she was sure he had an X-ray camera here in his cave, somewhere. The thought made her nervous, and a little ill. Because if she'd thought of the possibility before, she might have actually considered it.
What in Hera's name was happening to her?
"So what's next?" she said, more cheerily than she felt. She sat on his desk and swung her legs back and forth. It should have elicited a disapproving glare. He didn't even look at her.
"What do you mean?" he said.
"Well, I seem to have gotten the handcuffs down. Mostly. So do we move onto other locks? Or do you want me to work on my fundamentals?"
A long pause, then. "No."
"No to which part?"
"All of it," he said. He turned to the light microscope and pressed his eyes to it. "Hmm," he said in reaction to whatever he saw there.
"What happened to 'every night for at least a week'?" said Wonder Woman. "We still have chains and padlocks to go." Her question hung in the air for a long minute. No answer came.
Diana didn't want to ask the next question, but she had to. "Is this your way of saying we're done?" she said quietly.
"I have things to do," Batman said. He pushed his chair away and stood up. "If you really want to learn, Robin can show you everything you need to know."
"Robin is a wonderful teacher," she said. "But I came here to learn from the best." She let him chew on that for a moment, then added, "Besides, if you have 'things to do,' the least you can do is let me help."
"Why?" he said.
He could have at least sounded a little less revolted, Diana thought. "You're working on the robot case," she said. "You don't believe in coincidences. I've been shackled and nearly killed twice in a week by that thing, and no one's taken advantage of my Amazon weakness quite that way before. The first time was an accident. Now it's deliberate. Somebody's figured it out. You're the world's greatest detective. Surely, you've noticed that."
"If you say so," he said. He turned on his heel and started to walk away.
Diana was having none of it. "Batman!" she called.
As Batman automatically looked back at her, her hand moved -- faster, she calculated, than his eye could see. He raised his hand instinctively, to ward off a blow. When no blow came, he paused, then looked down at his own hand.
Her golden lasso was around his wrist.
"Diana -- " Warning.
"Do you trust me?" she said.
"As much as I trust anyone."
She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "I'd never hurt you," she said.
"I know it," he replied.
"I have the deepest respect for you. I won't pry. I won't ask you anything you wouldn't ordinarily be inclined to tell me."
"Then why the lasso?"
"Because I want you to really listen to something I have to say."
"And the golden lasso commands obedience," he said. His eyes were firm on hers. "Is that what you want from me?"
"I don't know what I want from you," she said honestly.
His gaze broke from her eyes and travelled lower. "Don't you?" he said.
Diana considered, and rejected, blaming the Batcave's lousy heating. "I'm not going to spar with you," she said. "I only want to tell you: whatever you're thinking, whatever you're feeling -- let yourself. Make your own mind up as to what you want to do about it, but don't discard it out of hand."
He opened his mouth, and tried to speak. He couldn't.
"Did you just try to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about?" said Diana. His glare answered the question for her. "You know better." She lifted the end of lasso she was holding. "Compliance and truth, remember?"
"What makes you think I'd discard it out of hand?" he said.
"I know you," she said. "That's what you do. So don't."
"You know me?" he said. There was the ice and gravel she knew. And oh, yes, he was every inch a Spartan.
"Yes," she said. "I know you better than you think. And I'd like to know you more." She paused. "But I can't, if you won't let me."
Batman said nothing.
Diana reached out to him and loosed her lariat. As she pulled it free, his hand, like steel, caught her wrist. And held it.
Well, she had muscles too.
Diana flexed her elbow easily. Batman's boots slid on the cave floor as she pulled him closer. He was braced with all his might, but against Amazonian strength that didn't matter. He didn't let go of her wrist. Not until they were face-to-face, and his hand almost by her ear. Showing her strength to him this way gave her a strange thrill -- and underneath that, a feeling of something else. Something very like fear.
She wasn't sure who was in control -- her or him -- or who she wanted to be. He made her feel powerful. He made her feel weak. If the only way he'd face up to her this way was in a situation where one or the other of them had seized full control, so be it. She'd let that situation arise. For a brief time, she realized, she wanted to control him, or for him to control her -- and somewhere, between those artificial weaknesses, she wanted the walls that separated them to be broken. To meet him on fair ground, without any obstacles in the way.
She looked into his eyes, and wasn't sure who was trembling harder, him or her.
"Tie me up," she said.
Man's World was interesting, and beautiful in its way; she hoped that one day she'd have a chance to see more of it when it *wasn't* in the process of being destroyed. Her trip to Baltimore, unfortunately, did not count as a mark in that column.
"Man," said the Flash, "they're gonna have to float a new bond to pay for that one."
Superman winced as the robot smashed through part of the Inner Harbor complex and made its way for several ships coming into port. "What's it after?" he said. "Last time it was diamonds -- "
"There's a shipment of ancient statues coming in on one of those ships," said Batman. "Destined for the Smithsonian."
"If they're so valuable, why didn't they fly them in?" said Flash.
"Too heavy. The smallest is twelve feet tall and they're made entirely out of gold."
"Yowza!"
"All right," said Superman. "Wonder Woman and I will take the robot on directly -- but Diana, if you see any thugs assisting the robot's theft on the ground again, or putting civilians at risk, stop them. Flash, we'll need to divert its attention, to keep it from focusing in on either one of us."
"I'll run up some water-spouts. That should keep it busy."
"Good. Batman?"
"The new missiles are loaded. I make no promises, but they should slow it down some."
"All right. Then you're air support. Let's move!"
"One more thing," Batman said. "I'm jamming the control frequencies Luthor gave you. There's no effect. Its brain isn't complex enough to handle situations like this on its own. Which means there's somebody inside."
Superman was out of the Javelin before Wonder Woman heard his response, but it sounded suspiciously like, "Good."
+++
Superman flew much faster than Diana could. She wished he weren't so impulsive at times like these. If the last fight had taught them anything, it was that they needed to face the robot as a team. She wondered if it had something to do with Superman's sheer power: he wasn't used to not being able to solve a problem, so on those rare occasions he was frustrated, he came back champing at the bit to make up for his previous mistake. And Superman had been itching to teach the robot a lesson for two days. Except he was leaving her behind.
Looking over her shoulder, Wonder Woman saw that the Javelin had lowered to the surface of the water to let Flash out. He'd catch up to Superman before she would.
The robot must have had some onboard radar capability. Or its eyes were excellent. It spotted Superman well before he made contact. It raised an arm. A hatch on the forearm opened and a formidable laser cannon emerged. It fired instantly. Superman was fast, but not faster than light. The beam hit him dead center. Superman was flung backwards -- whether by the beam or by some spasmodic reflex, Diana couldn't tell. He stopped his fall, but was sufficiently stunned to hang in mid-air, motionless, while the robot targeted him again.
But now she was in a position to do something about it. Diana flung her lasso over the laser cannon and pulled it aside enough to spoil the robot's aim. As Superman gathered himself and made a beeline for the robot again, it fired, and missed. Then it turned its massive head to the side and saw her.
The robot didn't hit her. It just waved its forearm. Diana's lasso went taut in a heartbeat. She tried to hang on, but her inertia dragged her outward. Like a stone from a sling, she went flying.
As she tumbled through the air, she felt a moment's satisfaction to see the first of Flash's water-spouts hit the robot from behind. An instant later, two missiles from the Javelin hit dead center, to no appreciable effect.
Before she could arrest her flight, a powerful arm wrapped around her waist and carried her back in the direction of the robot.
"Going my way?" said Superman.
"Depends," she said. "Will you stick to the teamwork this time?"
He nodded apologetically. "What do you have in mind?" he said.
"Throw me," she said.
He did.
Diana went back toward the robot faster than she'd gone out -- much faster than she could have flown on her own. She used her own abilities to guide her path right back to the dangling end of her lasso. She grabbed it and let her momentum carry her around to the robot's elbow. She had an instant's purchase there. It was enough. She braced herself and yanked with all her might on the unbreakable golden cord.
For an agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then, with a wrenching of metal, the laser cannon tore away. Once free of the robot's arm and the inertia of that initial tug, it fell. The weight pulled Wonder Woman free of the robot just as it started to spin round on her again. Quickly, she adjusted the knot on her lasso, slipping it for a quick release. Then she launched herself into a rapid spin, sending the cannon out to the full length of the rope.
Diana whirled around and around, building up speed until her arms ached. Then, with a harsh, wordless battle cry, she pulled the release cord.
The loosed cannon tore through the air like an eight-hundred-pound Olympic hammer and buried itself with a ferocious crunch in the robot's right eye.
Ha! she thought as the robot reeled. For once, an unqualified success.
Then the robot regained its balance. It swatted Superman aside, then turned to Diana and lifted its other arm. That forearm hatch opened. Out swung a new laser cannon. With six barrels. All of them pointed directly at her.
The robot fired.
The barrels, spinning like those of a minigun, spat energy in rapid succession. Diana brought her bracelets up to block the beams as best she could, but the lasers' sheer power still seeped through. There was a sizzling sound, and the hairs on her arm shrivelled. Diana kept up the best defense she could, but it wasn't much. The heat of her bracelets was rising. At any moment, she expected the smell of burning meat.
Her rescue, when it came, was from an unexpected quarter. With a roar of wind and water, Flash's new water-spout changed course and came between Diana and the robot. The robot's laser hit the spout, which abruptly vaporized into a massive cloud of steam. The robot vanished into the superheated maelstrom.
Diana crossed her arms over her face and let the blast of hot air pass over her. Even outside of the steam cloud, the heat was tremendous. She clipped her lasso to her belt and stared into the depths of what looked like a voluminous, localized fogbank. No sound, no movement.
Then, suddenly, she glimpsed a moving shadow.
"Oh, Hera," she thought.
The robot hit her.
The blow wasn't a brushing aside, as had been had given Superman. The robot punched her dead-on, with all of its weight behind the blow. Diana's near-invulnerability was no match for the robot's strength and sheer mass. She went flying. The powerful acceleration sent her blood rushing away from her head, and as the G-forces battered her she struggled not to pass out. She sensed dimly that she was travelling very fast, but she couldn't see anything she recognized, and wondered if the blue flashing before her eyes was sea or sky.
Then she went through the wall.
+++
Wonder Woman tried to get up, but nothing happened.
"I'll be all right," she whispered to no one in particular. "Just give me a minute..." Lights danced in front of her eyes. What had just happened?
Hang on, she thought. There's something on top of me. And, dancing lights aside, it was awfully dark. Where on earth -- ? Diana tried to wipe her eyes, but couldn't. Her fingers came into contact with something that felt an awful lot like broken cinderblock. Then she realized that it was broken cinderblock, and there was lots of it. She was lying in a pile of rubble.
That made sense, she remembered. She'd gone through a wall. She must have made the docks. Hit a warehouse.
"Ow," she said.
Diana's limbs were starting to work again. Always a good sign. She pushed feebly at the rubble surrounding her. Some of it shifted. Good; she wasn't too far buried. She'd be up and about in a few minutes. Really. And then she'd give the robot a piece of her mind.
As she tried to get a better angle to dislodge the rubble, she heard running footsteps. Then scrabbling sounds from outside the pile. Batman, digging her out again. Nice of him, really.
"Hey, you ought to be proud of me," she said. Her tongue seemed twice as thick as usual, and her mouth was caked with dust. "I went clean through a wall. Last time, I just bounced off one."
She could see light now. More air filtered down to her as he cleared the rubble away. She raised her hands through the hole to help him. Bless that annoying, arrogant, domineering chauvinist...
Wait. Why would Batman be putting handcuffs on her now?
Diana looked up just in time for her supposed rescuer to deliver a hard blow to the side of her head. Black clouds swam before her eyes. She wanted to fight, but her limbs were heavy. More hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the rubble. There was conversation, but Diana couldn't make any of it out. She pawed aimlessly at the air, and realized she was being dragged across the concrete. The handcuffs were tight on her wrists. She fought desperately to stay conscious, to control the situation. Then she saw where they were going. It was a shipping container. Surely her captors didn't mean to ship her.
And then the black clouds rolled over her again.
+++
When Diana came back to herself, she found good news and bad news. The good news was that despite a headache, her brain seemed to be back in working order. The bad news was somewhat more extensive.
Diana's hands were cuffed together. The chain between them ran around a rail of some kind. The rail was bolted or welded to the side of the container. Her feet were cuffed on a longer chain that ran up over the handcuff chain. She was caught in a semi-kneeling position. Her head still rang from the knock she'd been given after the cuffs had been first slapped on. The battle was still raging, and seemed to have moved dockside. Every so often, she heard the sound of something being smashed, or vaporized by the robot's laser.
Oh, she thought, this is very bad.
Diana decided to get her feet first. They were curled up in a horribly uncomfortable position, and if she got them loose she could turn to get at a better angle on her hands. Maybe even see what she was doing. Wouldn't that be nice. Her captors hadn't bothered to search her before locking her up. Her pick was where she had left it.
The lock-picking didn't go as smoothly as it had in her practice sessions in the Watchtower, or even in the Batcave under the Dark Knight's all-disapproving eye. But it worked. Soon she had the first leg cuff free. The second quickly followed. She let them hang from the handcuff chain and twisted her body around.
Very little light penetrated the shipping container, so Diana was forced to work by touch. She found the keyhole and started to work. She tried to ignore the robot's footsteps, and the fact that they were getting closer.
And then the sliver of light was blocked, and a massive boom came from outside the locked container doors as the robot came to stand just outside.
The sound of creaking metal came. Movement. Then a whoosh and a loud collision of some kind. The creaking metal and whoosh came again, and this time Diana faintly heard the shrieking of the Javelin's engines as the craft was put through a high-G maneuver. Then there was a splash.
With a chill, Diana realized what was going on outside. The robot had picked up shipping containers and was throwing them. Her mouth grew dry. Her fingers shook as she redoubled her efforts.
Then the walls of *her* container bulged in, and it was lifted -- goods, Diana, and all -- off the ground. Before Diana could react, she was in free-fall.
She didn't have time to do anything but think a frantic *No* before the shipping container hit --
-- the water. The sides held.
Her fingers didn't.
The pick flew from her hand as her body slammed painfully into the side of the shipping container. Her tool, her salvation, skittered off somewhere into the darkness. She groped for it with her feet, but it was too far gone. All she came up with were the heavy leg restraints, which dangled in front of her face. She tossed them down in disgust. She'd cut her lip, and for the second time in a week she knew the unwelcome, unfamiliar taste of her own blood.
Diana spat. She sat facing the railing to which she was cuffed, pressed her boots against the container side and pushed. Once, twice, again -- nothing. The railing's connection was secure, and she couldn't move more than six inches in either direction before stanchions blocked her progress. She screamed in frustration, then settled down to some serious swearing before her tongue tripped over itself and she was reduced to hammering her fist impotently into the side of the container.
It was a thoroughly unprofessional tantrum, and it didn't do her one damn bit of good. She should have gotten her hands free first -- no, that wouldn't have done anything. She'd still have lost the pick, and wouldn't be able to reach it. And if her legs were chained and her hands free, then she wouldn't have been able to get any leverage against the railing, because she'd be lying face-down in that puddle --
Puddle?
The container was leaking.
She thought she heard a steady flow from the doors and a further trickle from the top, where the robot's grip had dented the metal. She held her breath and listened, trying in vain to calm the thudding of her heart. She couldn't tell how fast the water was coming in, and she couldn't see anything. Which, she realized, told her something. Diana wasn't just floating in the water, or even bobbing along just below the surface. She was sinking.
Diana didn't know how much time she had. She only knew that she was in serious trouble. She realized something about herself that she would been too proud to consider before. Though she was an Amazon, prepared to give her life in battle if need be, Diana did not welcome the idea of dying. And there, in the dark, under water, she realized she was terrified by the prospect that she might drown.
"Oh, hell," she said.
She used her feet to pick up the leg restraints from the floor. She managed, with difficulty, to transfer them to her hands. Wrapping the chain of the leg restraints around her right hand, Diana grasped the bracelets in her fist and pulled her right arm back as far as it would go. Closed her eyes. Breathed a brief prayer to Hera.
And swung with all her might.
The bones of her palm snapped with more difficulty than she'd expected. She needed to take several swings. Her thumb was the hardest; not only did the muscle beneath it make for padding, but she kept trying to tuck it away by reflex, and finally had to put all her weight on it to make sure it held still long enough to smash. Around the third swing, the bracelets -- or maybe it was a splintered bone -- opened her skin and started the blood flowing. Good, she thought. Blood is helpful. She realized it was a very Bat thought to have, and that sickened her a little. She shook her head to clear it, and went back to smashing. She had to hurry. Not long before her hand began to swell, and then she'd really be stuck. Maybe I could gnaw it off, she thought dizzily. She braced her feet along the wall of the container and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. Then threw caution to the wind, rocked her torso forward to gain momentum, and *heaved* with all her might on the backswing.
Her screaming hand came free. So did a fair amount of her skin.
But her strength came flooding back.
The cuff was free of the rail now. Her shattered left hand was too weak to pull the other bracelet off, so Diana tore it free with her teeth. She could feel the bones trying to knit, but it felt wrong. She jammed her left hand into her armpit and ignored its existence. Then she ran, full-tilt, for the shipping container doors. The steel and the ever-increasing water pressure on them were no match for a desperate Amazon. The doors exploded open.
In the next instant, Diana realized she'd have been better off opening them slowly, and letting the pressure equalize. The rushing water threw her right back into the container, where she bounced off the far walls. It knocked the air out of her lungs, which was good for avoiding the bends but not for staying alive however the hell far down she was. She tried to swim back out of the container, but the water was still flooding in. She gulped at the little air remaining. An Amazon doesn't panic, she told herself, and fought a scream. She punched her right hand into the top of the container, in a frantic attempt to escape. She hadn't been thinking. The water sprayed through the hole, pressing her away. She was underwater now. Her lungful of air was running out again.
She throttled down her fear. She couldn't clear the doors, couldn't navigate the top --
Wonder Woman tore through the bottom as if it were a sardine can and swam/flew blindly for the surface.
At least Aquaman hadn't been around to see any of this.
+++
"What in the world were you thinking?" said Superman.
He looked into her face with endearing concern. His handsome features were softly lit by the Earth, glowing through the window behind him. That silly spit-curl hung down on his forehead; some day, Diana thought, she was going to give in to her ever-present urge to brush it away. He shook his head gently, then smiled at her. His fingers curled tenderly around her gnarled, misshapen palm.
Then he broke her hand.
Diana hissed as he eased the bones into a normal configuration. He squinted at her metacarpals, using his X-ray vision to check the placement, then held them and watched the bones knit.
"You know," Superman said nervously, "you really should go to a doctor for this."
"I'm given to understand it'd sort itself out on its own within a few weeks," she said. "I'm just not in any mind to wait around."
"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd really rather not make a habit of this sort of thing."
"Believe me," said Diana, in the most heartfelt tones of which she was capable, "neither would I."
He smiled at that. And broke another bone.
"Did *he* give you the idea for this?" he asked gently, when her eyes quit watering.
No need to ask who "*he*" was. "He saved my life," Diana said. "And he wasn't even there when he did it."
She saw guilt on Superman's face, then. "I'm sorry," he said. After all these years, it still hurt Kal-El that it couldn't save everybody. He'd been so busy with the robot he hadn't even noticed Diana was missing until she spluttered to the surface. Then he'd been frantic to pluck her from the water and take her safely to shore. The robot took the opportunity to get away. Again.
She touched his hand with her good one. "It's not your fault," she said. "Never think that. But I'm glad he thought of it." She shook her head. "When he suggested it as a possibility, I told him he scared me."
"I bet he liked that."
She smiled in memory. "He did."
Superman watched her bones knit in silence for a few moments.
"He's an interesting man, you know," Wonder Woman said. She rested her chin on her good hand and looked at the blue-green planet far below.
"I'd be inclined to agree with you," Superman said. "If I didn't have the feeling you and I would mean something different by 'interesting.'"
"You modern men are something of a mystery to me," she said. "I think I understand you, sometimes -- and then I find I don't, at all. Too many cultural assumptions that are invalid. Too many different manners, beliefs, gut reactions. But Batman... Batman feels familiar."
"I think," said Superman, "that's actually the *last* word I'd use to describe him."
"He reminds me of a Spartan," said Diana.
"I confess I don't remember much of Greek history," Superman said. "I suppose I should read up as a courtesy to you." He frowned. "Spartans. They were a nation of soldiers. Heroes, weren't they?"
"Sometimes," she said. "Just break the next one, will you? I hate waiting."
"Sorry," he said. *Snap.*
As Diana winced reflexively, she caught a reflection in the window. She turned to look. It was Batman. When he'd shown up, she didn't know. She found it unnerving that a man without any superpowers could be so utterly stealthy. Superman, whose ears could hear a pin drop a mile away, didn't notice. Or pretended he didn't. He just held her hand and watched her ravaged bones mend.
Diana turned her head to look directly at Batman. He looked back at her. She felt surprisingly vulnerable now that he was watching her. His emotions were unreadable as ever. He seemed... proud? admiring? jealous? (now where had that last thought come from?) She wondered if she'd surprised him, or if in pulverizing her own hand to tear her way out she'd only lived up to his impossible expectations. She hoped it was a reminder to him that while she accepted his tutelage in some areas, her will was as formidable as his own. And gods, she could feel that look he was giving her in her *toes.*
When Superman broke the last two bones in her palm to set them, she locked her eyes on Batman's and didn't make a sound.
+++
"How's your hand?" Batman said.
"Better," Diana said, flexing it. "The Boy Scout did a good job." Batman smiled at her use of the nickname he'd coined, but still seemed wary. "I'd have asked you to do it," she added. "If you were strong enough to break my bones, and had X-ray vision." He seemed to relax at that, if only for a moment.
She could, she realized, have bound her wrists for him and weakened her bones enough for Batman to break them. And she was sure he had an X-ray camera here in his cave, somewhere. The thought made her nervous, and a little ill. Because if she'd thought of the possibility before, she might have actually considered it.
What in Hera's name was happening to her?
"So what's next?" she said, more cheerily than she felt. She sat on his desk and swung her legs back and forth. It should have elicited a disapproving glare. He didn't even look at her.
"What do you mean?" he said.
"Well, I seem to have gotten the handcuffs down. Mostly. So do we move onto other locks? Or do you want me to work on my fundamentals?"
A long pause, then. "No."
"No to which part?"
"All of it," he said. He turned to the light microscope and pressed his eyes to it. "Hmm," he said in reaction to whatever he saw there.
"What happened to 'every night for at least a week'?" said Wonder Woman. "We still have chains and padlocks to go." Her question hung in the air for a long minute. No answer came.
Diana didn't want to ask the next question, but she had to. "Is this your way of saying we're done?" she said quietly.
"I have things to do," Batman said. He pushed his chair away and stood up. "If you really want to learn, Robin can show you everything you need to know."
"Robin is a wonderful teacher," she said. "But I came here to learn from the best." She let him chew on that for a moment, then added, "Besides, if you have 'things to do,' the least you can do is let me help."
"Why?" he said.
He could have at least sounded a little less revolted, Diana thought. "You're working on the robot case," she said. "You don't believe in coincidences. I've been shackled and nearly killed twice in a week by that thing, and no one's taken advantage of my Amazon weakness quite that way before. The first time was an accident. Now it's deliberate. Somebody's figured it out. You're the world's greatest detective. Surely, you've noticed that."
"If you say so," he said. He turned on his heel and started to walk away.
Diana was having none of it. "Batman!" she called.
As Batman automatically looked back at her, her hand moved -- faster, she calculated, than his eye could see. He raised his hand instinctively, to ward off a blow. When no blow came, he paused, then looked down at his own hand.
Her golden lasso was around his wrist.
"Diana -- " Warning.
"Do you trust me?" she said.
"As much as I trust anyone."
She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "I'd never hurt you," she said.
"I know it," he replied.
"I have the deepest respect for you. I won't pry. I won't ask you anything you wouldn't ordinarily be inclined to tell me."
"Then why the lasso?"
"Because I want you to really listen to something I have to say."
"And the golden lasso commands obedience," he said. His eyes were firm on hers. "Is that what you want from me?"
"I don't know what I want from you," she said honestly.
His gaze broke from her eyes and travelled lower. "Don't you?" he said.
Diana considered, and rejected, blaming the Batcave's lousy heating. "I'm not going to spar with you," she said. "I only want to tell you: whatever you're thinking, whatever you're feeling -- let yourself. Make your own mind up as to what you want to do about it, but don't discard it out of hand."
He opened his mouth, and tried to speak. He couldn't.
"Did you just try to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about?" said Diana. His glare answered the question for her. "You know better." She lifted the end of lasso she was holding. "Compliance and truth, remember?"
"What makes you think I'd discard it out of hand?" he said.
"I know you," she said. "That's what you do. So don't."
"You know me?" he said. There was the ice and gravel she knew. And oh, yes, he was every inch a Spartan.
"Yes," she said. "I know you better than you think. And I'd like to know you more." She paused. "But I can't, if you won't let me."
Batman said nothing.
Diana reached out to him and loosed her lariat. As she pulled it free, his hand, like steel, caught her wrist. And held it.
Well, she had muscles too.
Diana flexed her elbow easily. Batman's boots slid on the cave floor as she pulled him closer. He was braced with all his might, but against Amazonian strength that didn't matter. He didn't let go of her wrist. Not until they were face-to-face, and his hand almost by her ear. Showing her strength to him this way gave her a strange thrill -- and underneath that, a feeling of something else. Something very like fear.
She wasn't sure who was in control -- her or him -- or who she wanted to be. He made her feel powerful. He made her feel weak. If the only way he'd face up to her this way was in a situation where one or the other of them had seized full control, so be it. She'd let that situation arise. For a brief time, she realized, she wanted to control him, or for him to control her -- and somewhere, between those artificial weaknesses, she wanted the walls that separated them to be broken. To meet him on fair ground, without any obstacles in the way.
She looked into his eyes, and wasn't sure who was trembling harder, him or her.
"Tie me up," she said.