A/N: Another chapter, really late, but at least it comes at all.
"In the beginning was the word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God Himself. . . In Him was Life, and the Life was the Light of men. And the Light shines on in the darkness, for the darkness has never overpowered it" John 1:1;4-5 (Amplified Bible. Zondervan)
He whispered his messages across countrysides, yelled in the Temple Square.
At least Jesus let himself weep over Jerusalem.
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, murdering the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a mother fowl gathers her brood under her wings, and you REFUSED!" Matthew 23
I flip through the thin paper of the Wayne Family Bible, yet another casualty thrown into the hands of a grieving nine year old. I can still remember my father taking it out on Christmas and Easter, maybe leafing through some of the pages reading the notes left by his father and grandfather before him. The front reads as a Family Tree left vacant after Alfred solemly took my father's fountain pen and wrote my parent's names under Deaths. Why do we keep a record of men's and women's deaths, when we should keep records of how they lived, of what their lives contained? I think that is why I still flip through the worn pages of this Bible, reading the stories of men who lived. Jesus always fascinates me, how they took his birth, and his adulthood and carefully inscribed it as Holy. His death is written there, too as a reflection on how he lived, on how many lives he saved with words and selfless actions, and how he alone defeated Death itself. How could the son of a carpenter raise his dying head up to the heavens and ask the Divine God of the Universe to forgive the men that not hours ago just nailed him with metal the size of railroad spikes to some gnarled, unfinshed wood? I don't understand how that could be possible, except that the claims of Jesus Christ's divinity are true. Who less than a god could forgive the very people who caused the most excruciating pain to him? Diana is standing at the door to my study. I know she's there, I heard her four minutes ago, but didn't feel like breaking my concentration. Sighing with the weight of many unforgiven men, I close the soft leather cover of the Bible reverently and let it slip carefully to the table beside my gigantic leather chair.
"I'm going to the Watchtower" she says, asking so many questions under the tones in her voice and the semi-nervous tension in her shoulder and arm muscles showing through the soft fabric of her sleeveless sweater.
"There's a business deal I have to reconcile in the next two days, and a drug cartel I think is being run by the Penguin and Two Face"
"Two Face and the Penguin?" Diana's surprised the two villains would team up, it was only a matter of time. Easily exploited. She's moved to sit on the arm of my chair, I casually lean my arm around her waist and pull her gently onto my lap. She smells like roses and lotus water. Intoxicating. . . if it wasn't me.
"I'm thinking of calling Dick in over the weekend"
"Vacation?"
"Element of surprise. Two Face and The Penguin expect me, not Nightwing and I together. If I eliminate any pre-meditated plans Penuin's thought up, I can defeat them both by stressing the differences in ideologies and beat them without much trouble"
"Hmpf. trouble" she sounded almost annoyed, like a fly getting in her way.
"What are you thinking?" I ask, almost surprised to hear my own voice speaking my thoughts aloud. I've been surprising myself more than usual lately. Must be Diana. I havn't told her I think it's a good thing she'll be spending time back at the Watchtower.
I obviously caught her off guard, she's opened and closed her mouth twice, while inspecting a crack in the nail on her right-middle finger. I take it in my hand and kiss it on the tip. She smiled. Good, I needed to disarm some tension.
"I'm thinking that we both think my being here constantly isn't healthy for Wonder Woman and Batman's Public Relations, not to mention Flash has been itching for another grueling mission or two. Apparently the newbies are giving him too much flack for being one of the 'original's"
"Hm! I don't think they realise he's younger than some of them by as much as four years"
"Bruce?"
"Yes"
"You're not here, are you?"
"Hmm?" I say, guiltily realising I havn't been paying attention to the conversation.
"Where are you?" she asks, grabbing my face lightly in her hands.
"Where do you want me to be?"
"With me"
"Done"
A quasi-uncomfortable silence pervades the study as Diana snuggles deeper into me with a soft feminine chuckle.
"Uncanny. I can carry conversations with you and you're not even listening, but when I have your full attention there's nothing to say"
"How long do you think we can keep this up?"
"How long do you plan to go on living?"
"Diana. You know what I mean"
"Yes I do. I'm going up to see J'onn. We're going to discuss contingency plans if I . . . we . . . in case my living arrangements here in Gotham become more . . . permanent"
"I can always come visit you in Boston"
"I think it's time Bruce Wayne and Diana became an item"
"Publicly?"
". . . Yes"
That's not what I wanted to hear. She's right, though. If what the Fates said is true, which I'm counting on as being accurate, and what Morpheus was able to show both I and Diana, a more publically permanent relationship between Diana and myself will be necessary, if not imminent. Damn.
"Go to the Watchtower, take three weeks, I'll see what I can do here, and we'll talk about it when you get back"
"Bruce, don't underestimate Two Face's hate. I have a feeling he'd rather torch everything and everyone if he thought he had a clear shot"
"Why do you think I'm asking Dick to come?"
"You're a clever man, Bruce Wayne"
"Only clever?"
"Uh huh." she's smirking, I'm a goner for that sexy smirk of hers. Always have been. Giving my lover a kiss, I let her hand trail off my face before I pull away as Alfred enters the room.
"Pardon the interruption, Master Bruce, but you have a call from a gentleman from Portugal who says he has new information on a certain artifact for the Wayne Museum Gala?"
"I'll take it in my office, Alfred. Thank you. Oh, and Alfred? Please escort Diana to her appointment with the Justice League Transporter, I won't have time to send her off"
"See you in three weeks, Bruce"
"Do me a favour"
"And what would that be?"
"Hurt some bad guys really bad"
"Deal. Do me a favour?"
"What?"
"Don't go berserk out there"
"No promises" I smile grimly, a shadow on the wall reflects the curtains of the room like a cape. Eerie. Just the way I like it.
"He's hiding something"
"umm... Princess? It's Batman"
"I know, Flash, but he's hiding something from me"
"Again with the it's BATMAN, have you two been introduced? Cloak and daggers, Princess, cloak and daggers." Flash said, taking another gigantic scoop of double fudge chocolate brownie ice cream with a touch of chocolate liqueur. . . Just a touch. We sit silently munching on the seven different ice cream flavours Flash sped away from the freezer, and a little contraband I brought up courtesy of the Wayne Manor Liquor cabinet. Who would have thought that I, Diana Princess of the Amazons, would be sitting up in a space station eating ice cream and alcohol with the Flash? The Fates are cruel.
"Whaddaya think it is?"
"Hm?"
"Wow. Sure talkative today. If you think he's hiding something you've gotta think it's something, right?"
"Flash, you surprise me"
"yeah. get that a lot"
"I don't know. Something from a museum?"
"o Goodie, a dusty old. . . "
"Portugese"
"huh?"
"Alfred said a man from Portugal found an item for the Wayne Museum Gala"
"Yeah? So it's probably some half a statue or something"
"Bruce doesn't own a museum"
"Ahha!"
"Who would Bruce trust to get something from Portugal that he couldn't tell me about"
"How do you know he's not gonna tell ya. What if it's a surprise?"
"I'm willing to take that chance. You didn't see Bruce's face when he heard the news"
"It moved?"
"Just enough to merit rememberance"
"I take it we're going to Portugal"
"Read my mind"
"Funny, thought that was J'onn's job"
"Hah. hah. C'mon, Flash" Whomever invented ice cream should be hung by their toe nails. And Alcohol, that too.
"Maybe we should. . . I dunno take fifty or something"
"What's wrong, Flash? Too drunk to remember where you live?"
"You ever tried transporting to the surface drunk?"
"No"
"Prepare for a bumpy ride"