Story 12:

I'll Meet You Back at Home Later

Author's Note:

This gapfiller focuses on a major shift in Diana and Clark's relationship, revealed at the end of SMWW 17.

Metropolis Now …

Disappointment washed over Clark before he even unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside. He could tell from the lack of sound coming from within, as well as the absent thump, thump, thump of Diana's heartbeat, that she wasn't at home. Closing and locking the door behind him, Clark moved to the kitchen area and began to unpack the bag of groceries he'd picked up on his way home, as well as the carry out dinners he'd purchased from Cut at 45 Park Lane in Mayfair. The popular London restaurant was insanely expensive, but their steak was so delicious and mouthwatering Clark pretended not to notice the bill when Diana had first taken him there.

It had been one of their London date nights. And while Diana wasn't a huge red meat eater, she knew that he was. A prime cut of steak prepared medium rare his absolute favorite, preferably on a big ole grill the way Ma used to do it. So Diana had made reservations for them at the upscale restaurant, wanting to give Clark, quite literally, a taste of London. While Diana was dressing for their date, Clark had used her laptop to look up the restaurant. As he pulled the steaming food from the bags, he recalled the review of the place on Fodor's Travel, the first website that popped up from his search.

U.S.–based Austrian star chef Wolfgang Puck amps up the steak stakes at this ultra-expensive, high-end steak emporium on Park Lane. Against a luxe backdrop of Damien Hirst paintings, globe lights, and an '80s soundtrack of T'Pau and Bon Jovi, an army of hedge fund suits go gangbusters for perfectly-seared prime cuts from the U.S., England, and Australia. Grilled over charcoal and hardwood, and finished under a 650°C broiler, there's awesome Arkansas Creekstone filet mignon for £34, USDA Black Angus New York sirloins for £50, and 8-ounce rib-eye of Wagyu beef from Darling Downs in Australia for £92. Add bone marrow, French fries, Béarnaise sauce, or creamed spinach with a fried egg on top for the whole nine yards.

A few days later, while waiting for everyone to arrive for a JL meeting, Bruce had eyed Clark curiously and disapprovingly. Superman's mouth full of a New York hotdog, with the works, and a half consummed glass of milk beside him.

"One would think," Bruce began, his mouth turning up in disgust, "that after experiencing what real food tastes like, you wouldn't still stuff your body with a hot dog - milk combination." Bruce shook his head.

"What are you talking about?" Clark asked around a mouth of food. What in the hell was wrong with his lunch? Clark wiped his mouth with a napkin, eyed the trashcan on the other side of the room, and with a flick of his wrist, sent the napkin flying. "Swish. Three points." Clark grinned at Bruce who only stared at Clark, a blank expression on his face. Well, the half of his face not covered by his cowl.

Bruce shook his head. "Cut at 45 Park Lane, now that's top tier cuisine. If Wolfgang knew one of his patrons, after having experienced his cooking, could stomach to eat a hot dog with milk he would be insulted."

Lowering the cup of milk he'd been downing, Clark frowned at Bruce. "Spying again, Bruce. I thought we talked about this. What Diana and I do on our private time is none of your business."

"I wasn't spying. I just happened to be at the restaurant the same time you and Diana were. I had business in London and decided to take in one of my favorite London eateries before I left. I didn't expect to see the two of you there."

"You could've stopped by the table and said hello, you know. Clark Kent has interviewed Bruce Wayne for the Daily Planet, it wouldn't have been that unusual for the Gotham billionaire to be seen with a Metropolis reporter and his girlfriend."

"And what legitimate reason would Clark Kent have had for being in London, particularly at one of its most expensive restaurants? No evidence of a plane flight to and from London. No hotel record of your stay while there. No evidence at all that you interviewed anyone for a story." Bruce had leaned back in his chair, all too satisfied he'd made his point. "No matter where Bruce Wayne goes, photographers always find him. And while you may think nothing of it, a picture of Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, and a dark-haired, six foot beauty, in a city Wonder Woman calls home, would raise questions."

Bruce had been right, even though Clark was loathe to admit it. Still, from how Clark was raised, it was plain rude to be in the same room with someone you knew and not say hello. Clark was all about protecting his secret identity, as well as his friends', but he'd also thought Bruce was being overly cautious and more than a little paranoid. The man acted as if Clark and Diana weren't as equally vigilant when they were out together. They were, but sometimes there was no reasoning with the Batman.

After unpacking the grocery bags, Clark hopped in the shower, washing off the grime of the night. And what a night it had been. His and Diana's date night not at all how he'd planned the evening. Magog. Circe. Magic. Ani-men. Mind control. It had been one hell of a rollercoaster of a night. David Reid, a victim turned victimizer, was now in A.R.G.U.S. custody. Clark felt badly about the boy's fate. David blamed Superman and Wonder Woman for the loss of his parents and sister during the Darkseid invasion over five years ago.

Human casualties had been high that day and the battle hard fought. Despite the many deaths, however, if not for people like Superman and Wonder Woman the death toll would've been much greater. Blaming any member of the Justice League for the deaths was unreasonable and unfair. Yet grief, pain, and loss, especially when experienced by a child, could do strange things to the mind and heart. Turning heroes into villains and deadly witches, like Circe, into a lost boy's savior. No, David Reid had channeled his rage at the wrong people, allowing himself to be used and manipulated by Circe in the process. Wonder Woman and Superman were not to blame for the boy's loss, which wasn't the same as them not caring about those they weren't able to save, to protect.

They did. Even if they showed it in different ways. Even Clark hadn't understood that about himself and Diana. He'd judged her too harshly back then, viewing her strategic response to the battle as less than his own—ineffective, arrogant, and perhaps a bit unfeeling. Fight first and save innocents second wasn't what Superman did. Innocents always came first. But, as Superman had come to understand, that wasn't always the best approach to take. And his approach made even less sense when working with others. Saving lives was all well and good, but who stopped the bad guys if everyone were running around getting innocents to safety? The bad guys left free to hurt even more people, cause greater damage. That simply wasn't good strategy, no more than focusing only on the bad guys, without thought to the innocent people around you was good strategy. A delicate balance was needed, to be sure. A balance Clark and Diana still grappled with, as did every other member of the League.

Leaning his head under the spray of water to wash out the shampoo, Clark couldn't help but smile, remembering the last thing Diana had said to him, a few hours ago, before flying off. "I'll meet you back at home later." Yeah, that was it. Even now, two months after they'd decided to take a giant step forward in their relationship, Clark couldn't believe he'd asked and Diana had actually agreed.

He smiled again, feeling happy and relaxed as the warm water fell onto his hair and cascaded down his back, legs, and feet. Clark recalled the exact moment he'd had the life-changing thought.

Metropolis Then …

With far too much interest, Clark watched, from his naked spot on the bed, Diana shimmy into the black, body-hugging dress he'd taken extreme pleasure in peeling off of her last night. Since they'd begun dating, she'd caught him staring at her more times than Clark would've liked. But sometimes, like this morning, he couldn't help himself. Diana was just so damn beautiful and comfortable in her skin. And this morning, like so many other mornings she left his bed or he left hers in London, Clark didn't like the scene. In fact, since his return from the Black Hole where he'd ridded himself of the Doomsday virus and his subsequent return to Earth and reunion with Diana, Clark had begun to like this arrangement less and less.

This morning, for some reason, was the final straw. So, before he could give himself time to think of all the reasons not to do it or whether Diana would turn him down flat, Clark blurted, "Move in with me."

Diana's head snapped up. The high heel shoe she was about to put on nearly dropping from her hand. But the woman had cheetah-fast reflexes and held onto the sexy pump. Diana's brows furrowed, as if she didn't understand him. Which, okay, was fair, because Clark wasn't at all sure what he was doing himself.

But, yeah, the longer Diana stared at Clark, her eyes questioning, assessing, the more he liked the idea. As crazy as it may seem, as out of the blue as it had been. But Diana was giving him that same deer caught in headlights look she gave Clark when he'd given her a key to his apartment. Diana's "Why do I need a key to your home, Clark? You're always here when I arrive," almost sending Clark in a tailspin of insecurity. Hell, she'd actually returned the key to him with a casualness that had him blinking at her, not knowing how to take her reaction.

After a week, he'd tried again. This time, he'd put the key on a Superman keychain. It was a prototype the makers of the keychain had sent to Clark when he'd agreed to endorse the keychain, among other Superman paraphernalia, as long as twenty percent of all proceeds went to charity. One of Bruce's lawyers had helped Clark work out the finer legal details.

The second attempt had gone marginally better than the first. Diana actually liked the keychain more than she seemed to notice there was a key attached to it, asking Clark, in her typical Amazon way of poking fun, "Does this mean I'm now a Superman fangirl?"

He'd laughed. "I thought you were already a Superman fangirl. If not, I must be doing something terribly wrong."

Diana didn't comment, just stared from Clark and to the key in her hand. Then she put the key in her pants pocket and that was it. She'd accepted it, but with a nonchalance that would send a lesser man to Bedlam. It was then Clark had concluded Diana had no idea what he was trying to express with his gesture. How, in this culture, a man giving his girlfriend complete access to his home was the ultimate sign of trust and hope for the future. But Diana, he was sure, hadn't interpreted it in the same way as Clark had intended her to.

But she understood him clearly now. Diana's radiant blue eyes penetrating him with her silence.

Diana slipped into the shoe she held in her right hand, scanned the room for her purse and snatched it from the dresser when she located it. She didn't leave the bedroom and apartment though, but she did turn back to face Clark.

"Why?"

Well, of all the things he thought Diana would say, this wasn't one of them. Clark patted the spot beside him on the bed. "Come here, and let's talk about it, Diana."

She shook her head, her face taking on a stubborn vulnerability he hadn't seen since their kiss on the Lincoln Memorial. A confused Diana flying away as soon as it was over.

Clark thought about getting out of bed and going to her. But something told him Diana needed the few feet that separated them. That if he pushed too hard or too fast, she would flee. So Clark stayed where he was and smiled at his skittish girlfriend. Hoping Diana could see his sincerity.

Yet she had posed a legitimate question, and deserved an honest, thoughtful answer.

Clark adjusted the covers around him, not wanting to add to the awkwardness of the moment by letting Diana know how excited he was about the prospect of becoming roommates with her.

"There are many reasons, I suppose. The main one being that we love each other. We spend most of our free time with each other. Either you're here or I'm flying off to London to be with you. I have clothes and stuff at your home and, over the last few weeks, you've begun to leave more and more of your stuff here. It only makes sense. I'm not asking you to give up your place in London, no more than I'm asking you to settle into this apartment with me, if you think it's too small for two people or is more Clark Kent than Diana. We could find a place that we decide on together, if you like, live in Metropolis as Diana Prince and Clark Kent. When we're together, we wouldn't have to rush off because we would already be home."

Diana wiped a hand over her brow, uncharacteristically nervous and unsure. "I don't know, Clark. My situation at home is shaky at best. I spend a lot more time there since becoming queen and defeating the First Born. There is so much to do and not nearly enough of my sisters willing to make the effort to change, to see the world beyond their xenophobia and hatred of men."

"Which means you're unwilling to consider my proposal because your sisters wouldn't agree with you living with a man? No offense, Diana, you're queen. You can live your life the way you choose, the way you've done since leaving Paradise Island."

"You're wrong, Clark." Diana placed her purse back on the dresser and leaned against the sturdy wooden furniture. "When I was just Princess Diana of Themyscira I could do whatever I wanted with little care or thought to how it would be perceived by my sisters. My mother accepted my choices, even if she didn't always agree or understand them. And no one would dare to question Queen Hippolyta. But it's different now that I'm queen. I'm accountable in a way I never was before. And my mother is no longer able to stand between me and those who never accepted me as one of them." Diana blew out a breath. "It's complicated, Clark. So much more complicated than you know. I love my home and my sisters, but sometimes being there, dealing with disgruntled and mistrusting Amazons, makes me wonder why I bother to return at all, why I work so hard for people who don't like me or appreciate my efforts."

"You shouldn't have to prove your worth to them, Diana. Nor continue to make personal sacrifices for women who may never understand you and the life you've created for yourself here."

Clark was tempted to say more about those so-called sisters of Diana's. While he'd only met one, Hessia had been more than forthcoming with Clark about how Diana had been mistreated by some of her "sisters," as a child. More, Diana had confided in him her questionable to poor treatment since ascending to the throne. He knew it wasn't all of the Amazons who thought Diana unfit to fill her mother's queenly boots, disliked her work on the League and how often she was away from home, and had taken a male as lover, giving him her trust, faith, and time. Still, from Clark's understanding, it was enough of them to give Diana stress and to put her in a foul mood each time she returned to Paradise Island.

Clark always knew when she went home, Diana agitated and angry when she returned to Man's World. And each time she went home, Clark couldn't help but think that visit would be the one in which Diana would cow to pressure and stay on her island home. Be the "dutiful" and ever-present queen her sisters wanted her to be. Yet Diana, stubborn Amazon that she was, never succumbed to her sisters' pressure, returning to him each and every time she visited Paradise Island, which gave Clark the hope and confidence to ask his question this morning.

"I know. But whether I should or shouldn't has nothing to do with it. My mother held the Amazons together for over a thousand years, I won't allow all her hard work to slip away into anarchy and bloodshed because her daughter was too weak, too inexperienced, too impatient, or too heavy-handed to handle the responsibility of being queen. Leader of a nation of equally stubborn women who think that might makes right. They aren't ready for my style of leadership, but I know no other way to lead them."

Clark could see the distress and frustration in the blue eyes that held his with typical Diana forthrightness. Clark wished he had the answers Diana sought. But he didn't, her world nothing he'd ever experienced. But he did know one thing. And it was the same thing he knew about himself.

Diana, God of War, Queen of Paradise Island, and the woman he loved, was lonely. Clark comprehended the emotion, knew it too well. The Kent farm, as much as he loved it, was a painful reminder of how alone in the world he was and all that he'd lost with the death of Ma and Pa. Diana, for all intents and purposes, no longer had a home in Paradise Island since her mother had been turned to clay. And now, with Lennox dead and Zola, Zeke, and Hera living on Mount Olympus and no longer in Diana's home, under her care, her London home was far too large for one person.

What was there for her to go home to after a long, arduous day? The same thing Clark went home to each night—cold, harsh silence. They could be each other's reason to go home, reason to look forward to going home. Clark had been keenly aware of how depressing living alone could be when he returned to his quiet, empty apartment, after two months of fighting his way through a Black Hole. No cat. No dog. Nothing. No one was there to greet him. No one was there to say that they'd missed him.

How his return home would've been different if Diana had been there, her smiling lips and bright, surprised eyes greeting him. Her arms open and wide, her hug warm, soft, and so loving. Yes, that was the homecoming Clark would've loved to have received. Instead, his dusty apartment offered no emotional gratification beyond being a familiar place that still smelled vaguely of Clark Kent.

But Clark wouldn't say any of that to Diana. She had her pride, as much as he had his. And the last thing he wanted Diana to think was that his offer was made out of sympathy for her current situation instead of with love and the desire to be closer to her.

"There's no expiration date on my offer, Diana. You don't have to decide right here and now. Hell, you don't even have to give me an answer a month from now. The only thing I ask is for you to give my proposal serious consideration. We can talk about the details, how to best make it work. But know this, I think it would be good for the both of us. It won't be perfect or easy. It will require a lot of give and take. But, if we're committed, we can make it work."

"You really think we can make it work? Our schedules are crazy. And the demands at home are mounting each week. I don't know if I'll make a good roommate, Clark."

Progress, Clark thought with an inner smile. Diana was already considering his proposal, even though she hadn't said as much. More, her last statements told Clark Diana wasn't adverse to the idea of them living together. This had Clark tossing back the covers.

In five long strides, Clark stood in front of Diana. Who, for her part, was doing a poor job of pretending to not notice his naked, aroused state. A blush crept across her lovely face when she realized Clark had seen her eyes drop and linger.

This time, Clark let her see his smile, unable to keep it on the inside. The woman was too adorable, and he couldn't wait for them to live together. And Clark had no doubt they would, sooner or later, become roommates. Diana only needed a bit of time to get used to the idea. He was okay with that. When it came to Diana, he was a patient man.

"Maybe you should put something on." Diana pointed to the open blinds, the sun shining into the room. "You have neighbors, Clark. Unless, of course, you've suddenly become an exhibitionist."

Clark wrapped his arms around Diana's waist, letting her feel how little he cared about some Peeping Tom spying on him. The guy across the way, who yeah, Clark knew used his telescope to spy on his neighbors instead of star gazing, was almost reason enough to have Clark scrounging for a pair of boxers. But the creep wasn't at home, right now, and he didn't seem to have any interest in men. But, if Diana were to move in with Clark, he would have to keep the blinds closed and get Peeping Tom proof curtains.

Clark smiled down at Diana, her blush deepening as he pressed his erection into her stomach. "Consider my offer, Diana. I've decided I like falling asleep with you in my arms and waking with the smell of you in my bed. If you feel the same way, then why not give living together a try? We already spend so much time together, as it is. I just don't see the point of living separately when it's pretty clear how much we enjoy being together."

"You make a convincing argument, but I do need some time to mull it over."

"I know. Take all the time you want. I'm not going anywhere. Even if you decide not to, it will change nothing between us. Just know, if your answer is no, I'll wait a few months then ask again."

And again and again until Diana admitted what Clark already knew. She needed and wanted him as much as he needed and wanted her. Sometimes, life was as uncomplicated as that. Not that anything about their relationship was uncomplicated, but this one thing, along with their love for each other, definitely was.

Diana relaxed into his embrace and rewarded Clark with a beatific smile as bright as the sun beaming in through the bedroom windows. "You don't plan on giving up on me?"

"Never. Don't you know that by now? We don't give up on each other. You were the one who helped me to understand that we don't have to agree on everything to work well together, whether it's as colleagues on the League or in private as Diana and Clark."

Diana wrapped her arms around Clark's shoulders and laid her forehead on a brawny shoulder. "I think," Diana began, her voice low, sincere and with a touch of sadness, "I'm afraid of reaching for something I so desperately want. Nothing I touch stays mine for long—Mother, War, Zola, Zeke, Lennox, Hera, they're all gone. One way or another, they've all left me."

Clark wanted to reassure Diana that he would never leave her. But not too long ago, he nearly had. Diana thinking him dead after his battle with Brainiac and his two-month disappearance. Knowing she'd grieved him all that time had hurt Clark. A part of him still felt guilty he'd put her through that. So no, he couldn't promise her he would never leave. No more than she could promise him the same. But …

"If I'm able, Diana, I will always return to you, to our home. Because there is no other place I would rather be, no one else in the world whose face I would rather see, whose arms I want holding me, whether I'm happy or sad, or whose trust and love I most cherish. That's the promise I make to you without reservation."

Wetness fell onto his shoulder, and he held Diana tighter, fiercer, wanting to protect her from so much. She wanted a home. More, she needed a stable, loving home. And, right now, she didn't have that. Not in London and certainly not on Paradise Island.

They stayed like that for long minutes. Contemplative silence that was neither uncomfortable nor awkward.

Then Diana had wiped her tears, grabbed her purse, kissed Clark goodbye, and flew home. All without giving him an answer.

Yet, two months later, as they devoured popcorn while watching a movie on Clark's couch, Diana said, "I have a lot of clothes, books, and weapons, would you mind if I use your second bedroom for storage?"

"Wait. What? Are you serious?" Clark picked up the remote and paused the movie. Clearly Diana hadn't just implied she had decided to finally move in with him. Hell, they hadn't talked about it since that morning eight weeks ago. "Are you serious, Di?" he asked again, the movie and popcorn forgotten.

Diana tossed some popcorn in her mouth from the big bowl on the cushion between them. "Of course I'm serious, Clark. You have no idea what a clothes horse I've become since moving here. So many wonderful colors, designs, and styles to choose from. And Hessia has been no help at all, because she loves to shop even more than I do. And don't get me started on my cache of weapons. In fact, that reminds me, Hephaestus-"

"You little ..." Clark grabbed the big bowl of popcorn and dumped the entire contents on Diana's head. The woman was unfreakenbelievable, toying with him and driving him mad.

Clark attacked.

Diana screamed.

And the tickling, popcorn fight was on.

And that was that. A week later, Clark had Diana all moved in. She maintained her London home and, on occasion stayed the night there. But, more often than not, when not on Paradise Island, Diana came home to Clark. To their home.

Metropolis Now …

Warm arms circled his waist, drawing Clark's thoughts away from the past and back to the present. The water from the shower still beaded down on Clark, but he hardly noticed. With a naked Diana holding him, there were few things Clark noticed during times like these.

He turned in her arms. "Finished helping with the clean-up effort?" Magog had left one hell of a mess in his wake. A tantrum that, fortunately, hadn't turned deadly. Thanks, in large part, to the woman gazing up at him with both exhaustion and lust.

"We missed our date, so I bought us dinner. Steak."

"It's morning, Clark. I'd rather have a bowl of fresh fruit, granola, and yogurt. But your steak dinner will be perfect after we get a few hours of sleep." She snuggled closer, pressing enticing breasts against his hard chest. "Will we ever be able to have a nice, quiet night on the town without some disaster or lunatic interrupting us?"

Clark lifted her chin and kissed Diana on the lips. "Probably not."

She sighed. "I was afraid you would say that."

Clark spun Diana around and under the spray of water. Like a spoiled house cat, she allowed him to pamper her. Washing her body, hair and drying her off. In truth, Clark enjoyed this part of living with Diana more than she did.

Once done, Diana opted for sleep over breakfast and lovemaking. Which was fine with Clark. Because, in a few hours, Diana wouldn't be getting up, dressing quickly and dashing off to her London home, leaving Clark alone and lonely. No, when she awoke, Diana would roll over, kiss Clark in some naughty place and then remind him why he was the luckiest man in the world. Yes, there were undeniable perks to sharing a home with Diana.

And whenever she said, "I'll meet you back at home later," his heart never failed to thump an extra happy beat.