The Evil Long Forgotten
Chapter 10
By Christopher W. Blaine
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DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2004 by DC Comics Inc. and are used without permission for non-profit, fan related entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2004 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in any manner, in part or as a whole, without the express permission of the author.
Donna had expected that her presence would have caused some sort of stir within the archeological dig, but the truth was that the scientists and university students were too wrapped up in their research to pay attention to her. The guards, elite soldiers of the German armed forces, would not allow themselves the luxury of flirtations with her. Feeling a mixture of resentment and relief, she finally retired to a bedroom that had been graciously set aside for her.
Her sister had contacted her by cell phone an hour before, explaining what they had found out and also about Red Star joining them. Donna looked forward to seeing her old friend Leonid as well as reuniting with her sister. Except for one night, they really had not had much of a chance to bond. Instead Donna had been playing a game of sorts with Diana, trying to catch the eye of men who were obviously interested in the world famous Wonder Woman. It had been childish and she knew she should feel bad, but the emotions just wouldn't come.
She laughed to her self as she opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with the "R" logo from Robin's costume. It had been a gift from Dick Grayson, the original Robin, and Donna loved to sleep in it. It was faded from years of use, but was as comfortable as slipping into a nice hot tub of water. Which reminded her that she needed to bathe and shave her legs.
One of the things they did not teach you when you first became a super-hero was how to prepare yourself for wearing costumes that clung to your skin or showed it off. She still remembered tussling with some common street thugs once when one of them grabbed her leg and then pulled it away. His face had betrayed the horror he had felt when he realized how much stubble could penetrate her Lycra costume.
That was one of her infamous debates with the men on the Titans. Why was it that women loved a man's hairy chest and legs, but men absolutely demanded a woman shave nearly every hair off her body?
A knock at her door broke her out of her nostalgia and she quickly pulled the shirt on over her head, adjusted her sports bra and hurried over. She hoped it was Dr. Styles with some more information. The man seemed absolutely terrified of terrorists attacking the site, but she had wondered if he feared for his life or for the lost opportunity at pure research?
She opened the door and saw Henry standing there, holding a bottle of wine. "Guten Abend (Good evening)," he said with a wry smile. She noted the cologne he was wearing; it was one of her favorites. "I hope I have not missed anything important?" he asked.
Shortly after Dr. Styles had fled to warn security, Henry had begged off, saying he had an errand to run. That had been several hours before and Donna had been forced to fend for herself. "I don't know," she said impishly. "Did you miss me?"
He bowed his head, his voice indicating his sincerity. "In truth, fair lady, I did, but I had good reason for departing from your angelic presence. I have discovered more information regarding our dear Dr. Melch." Then he held up the bottle of wine. "And I also found something much more enjoyable than beer."
Donna smiled and shrugged. "I don't know; I am awfully fond of beer…"
"I assure you that once this coats your tongue, all of your fantasies about brewed hops and barely will disappear forever, resigned to be overshadowed by the sensation that can only come from expensive French wine." She then let him in and he walked in quickly and made for a small table. He took some time to examine the room. "I am sure that this was a fine guest chamber in its day," he commented as he produced a corkscrew from a pocket.
"I asked some of the other researchers and they told me that this estate was made up of many buildings, not so much one large one. Melch's family was large, but by no means did they get along." Donna was then surprised to see him produce two wine glasses from another pocket of his jacket.
"Is there anything else in there I should be worried about?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.
For the first time, a lustful glare came to Henry's eyes and Donna felt her heart skip a beat. When he was hungry, he looked like a predator and she suddenly felt like a deer in a spotlight. It had been years since she had felt that way in the presence of a man, years since she had gone ahead and let her defenses down enough to let such a presence overwhelm her. "I would say that anything you find will be to your liking," he finally said and the moment passed. In the air, however, lingered the electric feeling of lust unabated.
As he poured the wine, he told her of what he had discovered in his errand. "For some reason, the German high command ordered some of Melch's experiments moved here near the end of the war, by order of Himmler himself."
Donna accepted the wine and took a small sip. He had been correct; it was like nothing she had ever tasted before. She had to take another before she could tell him what her sister had told her. Through it all they slowly moved over to sit down on the bed, as it was the only furniture in the room. Most of the rest had either been stolen or confiscated by the researchers for their work in the basement.
Though not a mansion or a keep, the house was still alert by American standards and had several rooms that had been made into private quarters. The senior researchers got to live in small trailers at the outer edge of the perimeter of buildings. As such and with the work schedule of the researchers, Donna and Henry had been given the only two rooms on the second floor to give them privacy.
"Interesting," Henry said as he poured them each another glass. He then removed his jacket and Donna finally got a good look at him. He wore a short-sleeved shirt underneath and as she had suspected, he wore clothing that was much too large on him. His arms bulged with muscles, but it was as if he were self-conscious about them. Donna had seen the same reaction from several female heroes who wore bulky clothes to hide their chests. "You say that the Russians believe that all of this was the continuation of a Japanese experiment?"
Donna nodded and leaned back, suddenly feeling very relaxed. She knew it wasn't the wine; she couldn't get drunk. It was just the setting and the company; she felt so at ease. She brought one leg up seductively over the other and then realized that she hadn't had time to shave them. Her face blushing slightly, she put them back down. "My mother," she began without trying to explain the unusual circumstances of her true relationship to Diana. It was usually too much for people to accept that she was a magical clone. "My mother fought Baron Blitzkrieg after the war."
"And he was involved as well? Interesting?"
"That's an odd reaction," Donna said. "I thought most people of Germanic descent were appalled by the memories of the Nazis. I never heard anyone say 'interesting'."
Henry nodded and smiled. "Your country is very special in one way that I truly do admire; when you speak of freedom of speech, you mean it. In this country, the Nazis are criminal to write about, to talk about."
"Ah, your politics again," Donna chided him. "Quite the conservative, aren't you?"
"I simply don't think you can ignore the past," he answered flatly. "Ignore the past and the future suffers."
Donna accepted the reply without any further comment. He had warned her that he was not standard in his political thought, but then who was? Diana supported the rights of women in the Amazon fashion, but Donna, technically an Amazon, was pro-life, not pro-choice. Did that make her odd in her sister's eyes?
How would she know? She and Diana never discussed such things and now she understood Henry's position. He did not want to alienate friends or even strangers, but at the same time, he demanded the right to keep his own political viewpoint. Maybe he was right, after all; maybe it was time for the German people to simply accept the past and not ignore it.
Then she heard the voice of Roy Harper in her head, remembering a lecture he had given her, for the millionth time, about Native American rights and how the government of the United States had trampled all over them. Henry saw the look on her face and asked what she was thinking of.
How long had it been since a man asked her that? "Something an old friend told me once. I think it helps me understand your argument." Slowly she stood up. "I hope I'm not being rude, but you caught me just before I was going to shower. Plain and simple, I stink."
He nearly spurted his wine and she apologized for being so frank. He stood up, laughing. "No, it is quite all right and certainly my fault. I should have told you what time I would drop by."
"I'd like to talk some more," she said. "Maybe in an hour?"
"Of course," he said, again with a small bow and she led him to the door. He stopped the door with a hand that was just over her own. "One hour?" he asked her with pleading eyes.
"Maybe a little less," she replied, slowly pulling her hand away.
The water had been surprisingly hot and fresh and after two razors (it was apparent that Roy Harper was using hers to shave his face again! The little bastard was always using them and then putting them back), she had shaved all of the parts of her body that required attention. She wondered if she spent more time fixing her hair or shaving it off.
She backed up underneath the water and let it pour on her. There was little chance of her being burned and so she could just stand there and let it run over her body. Her Amazon physiology had been kind to her; even after having given birth, there were no stretch marks and no scars. In fact, there were no scars anywhere on her body thanks to the make-up of her skin. She would look young forever, no matter how old her heart became.
And her heart did feel old. How many more lives would she see cut short before her own ended? Would her life ever really end, could an Amazon truly grow old and die? If not, then her end would have to come by force, through tragedy; she would have to be a victim just like the Seraph. That did not seem very promising.
And what about the life she was to lead until that end came? She had already tried the marriage and family life and it hadn't worked. She had been an intergalactic cop when she had joined the Darkstars and that had not worked. Now she was playing amateur Batman and it did not seem to be working either. She did not feel any closer to the answer as to why the Seraph had to die than when she started.
How did Nightwing do it? How did he put together clues from here and there in order to get a logical progression of events? Now that she was working on a mystery without his aid, she was starting to gain a healthier respect for his abilities.
She reached up and put her hands in her hair and then felt the air change in the room. It was subtle, as if a door had been opened and she strained her hearing. Maybe someone accidentally opened the door, saw it was occupied and then walked out. There was also the reasoning that someone wanted her autograph and they had brought their very own pen!
If so, they were going to be very sorry, she thought.
Slowly the shower curtain moved away and she cracked open an eye. "Vergib mir, meine sanfte Taube, aber ich bin ueberwaeltigt von Deiner Schoenheit, von Deiner Erscheinung. Heute moechte ich wie die Engel sein und den Himmel spueren (Forgive give, my gentle dove, but I am overwhelmed by your beauty, by your presence. Tonight, I want to be like the angels and feel Heaven)," Henry said.
She understood enough to realize that he was not forcing himself on her; he was asking her if this was what she wanted as well. Deep inside of her, she felt the stirrings of passion making their way from the cold pit of her stomach. It spread out, warming places that had needed some heat for so very long.
She extended a hand to him, inviting him into her personal space. Now, unclothed, exposed to her without any barriers, she noted that he was an extremely powerfully built man. He was physically perfect and yet that was not what made her pull him close so that his skin rubbed against hers. This was someone who had treated her with worth and value, had not seen her as a plaything or a conquest. He was not like those boys on the plane.
Instead, Henry had won her over with his personality and his attention, much the same as a man named Terry had many years before.
They kissed, lightly at first, and then with more vigor, more fire. Their hands, so desperate to latch onto the other, roamed here and there, trying to find the perfect handhold. In time, he had found hers and she had found his and under the steaming water they turned and twisted, each trying to gain a position of advantage where they could demonstrate through touch how deeply they wanted the other.
Their foreplay seemed to last for hours and Donna found herself losing all track of time, remembering only wave after wave of pleasure that threatened to tear her apart from the inside out. She pleaded with him and he with her, both of them fighting to give the greatest amount of pleasure that they possible could. It was fencing with hearts.
When their lovemaking finally began, Donna felt years of anguish and frustration melt away as she pressed against the shower wall. Even with her enhanced strength, she could not break free of the bindings of lust that Henry had placed around her and with each beat of the rhythm she dug her nails deeper and deeper into his skin, or at least she thought she had. Over and over again she was taken to the top of a mountain of ecstasy, only to be led down a little ways for a rest. Anxious to reach the peak, to plant her flag at the top and scream out to the world she had reached her goal, she drove him on and on. But he was a patient and strong man and would not be led astray from his course of love. He guided her, showed her pleasure she had never known before.
She was gasping for air, the steam searing her lungs as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling his hair, her moans primitive. She cursed and she pleaded to be taken to the Promised Land and then it happened. Her eyes began to lose the ability to focus colors and breathing became optional as an explosion of pure, unadulterated joy ripped through her body, coming to head in a scream that shook the room they were in.
Four screams later, he finally moaned and stopped, his head dropping down to her bare chest, the water running down his back did nothing to cool the heat that was emanating from his broad shoulders. Slowly, almost painfully, they parted. He backed under the water and put his face up to it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, panting.
He brought his head down and regarded her with eyes that still smoldered with lust. He wanted her again and she could tell he was more than able to rise to the challenge. "I am fine," he said with a grin.
"I meant your back…I have a tendency to hurt my lovers…"
He turned for her and then quickly moved to face her again. "I am fine; you possess great self-control."
"No I don't," she said, stepping forward and pushing him back against the wall. An hour later they stopped once again only to take a breather. Twice more during the night, the former home of Dr. Melch was consumed by the sounds of passion. Guards and researchers alike began to chuckle and make small bets as they listened, but nobody would dare to interrupt two lovers. It simply was not the European way.
Leonid offered Diana a banana. "It is good," he said with a smile.
Their driver simply shook his head and paid them little mind. He enjoyed looking at Diana's (she had insisted that he not call her Princess Diana), beautiful face in the rearview mirror. The big Russian, however, was another story. Certainly, without his mask on, he was a handsome enough chap, but he ate like a pig.
"You must work out a lot, Leonid," Diana commented with a grin. Despite his political leanings and a rather bullish attitude towards people he did not know, she had found the Russian super-hero to be friendly enough. He had spent several hours talking to her about his friend Pantha (a former Titan who it was obvious he had very deep feelings for) and their "child" Wildebeest.
He held up a bicep. There was no doubting the man had the form of Hercules. "Da! Serve as example to young children of Russia. Too many overweight children in America. French fries. Need to eat more fruit."
"I agree," She said, turning to look out the window. Steven had insisted that she and Leonid travel to the Melch estate ahead of him as he was checking on some information regarding Baron Blitzkrieg. He was hoping to cross-reference the intelligence files on the Nazi metahuman to see if they could come up with anything relating to Dr. Melch.
"This country is beautiful," Leonid said. It was a surprising revelation. "I can understand why he loves it so much."
"Who?" Diana asked.
"Your Steven's friend. It is obvious he loves this land more than anything. He looks to you but then his eyes are drawn to the city," the Russian said with a big smile. "You have curves. You have the air of sophistication. Yet, you cannot compare to the beauty of the land he loves."
She considered his words, knowing that he was an honest, good-hearted man. Any reference to her physical beauty was merely an observation. His heart belonged somewhere else. "Do you think so?"
He nodded. "I have seen Nightwing look at your sister in the same way. He looks to her and then looks away to something else. Nightwing will never settle down for his life is about his mission. The same with this Steven Hinkle."
"Then he is a good man," Diana said.
Leonid laughed and started to peel his banana. "He is fool! A man has chance to kiss Wonder Woman, he should not look at dirty city street!"
"You are an absolute pig, Red Star," she said, but her tone suggested that she understood what his meaning was. He meant no offense.
"Nyet," he said, shaking his head. "Russian men know when to kiss the pretty girls and when to serve their country. We just happen to prefer to kiss the pretty girls!"
"Entschuldigung (Excuse me)," the driver said. "Aber ich weis ein wenig über die Gegen in die wir gehen und es koennte sein, dass ich helfen kann. In der Naehe lebt eine aeltere Dame, die bereits waehrend dem Krieg hier war (But I happen to know a little about the area we are going to and I might be able to offer some help. There is an older lady that lives nearby that was here during the war)."
Diana grew excited. "Koennen Sie uns zu ihr bringen (Could you take us there)?" she asked.
"Ja, ich werde sie zu ihr bringen, kein Problem (Yes, I will take you, no problem)!" the driver replied, truly happy to make the Amazon Princess smile. The Russian looked dumbfounded, continuing to eat his banana.