Disclaimer: I wish I own the characters but I don't…so please, don't sue me.

Author's Note: Warning! Shippy Content Not Suitable For Those Strongly Against BM/WW. And rating may be slightly over PG.

Chapter Thirteen

Lunch Date

In a room partially lit with the glow from numerous computer screens, in a place somewhere distant, two dark haired, blue-eyed men were contemplating the very near future.

"So…what did our good general say?" The taller man asked as he looked at the vast space through the glass, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood in a formidable stance, when he heard the faint click of the transmitter as the communication line went dead.

"He was just informing us that he would not be able to pay us a visit after all," the deep baritone of the other spoke, while sitting on a chair facing one of the many monitors that looked into different sections within the compound. "Something about the holidays."

A sneer appeared on the taller man's reflection that was cast in the glass. Let him enjoy his last Christmas.

"He sounded disinterested." The deep voice concluded.

"Just as I thought. Go into mass production…" The taller man turned. "And now that we have attained full maturity they are shelving us."

"For future use." The seated man leaned on the chair.

From his position, the taller and obviously stronger man squared his broad shoulders as if preparing for confrontation. With purposeful steps, he walked to stand beside the other. "When did he say he would arrive?"

"Day after tomorrow."

He tapped the other on the shoulder. "That gives us less than two days to…finalize all our plans," he commented with a sinister grin. "Are you up to the challenge?"

In reply, the other man's blue eyes stared back in grim determination before the lips turned into a very familiar smirk.

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Back at the Watchtower…

Coffee.

She needed coffee very badly that she felt she could down a whole coffee pot filled with the freshly brewed liquid as she fell in line next to Green Arrow at the Watchtower cafeteria. Spending the entire night staring at the ceiling of her quarters as if it was the ornate work of art resembling the Sistine Chapel could definitely make her eyes drowsy at this time of the morning.

She was not able to sleep a wink last night and when her eyelids finally started succumbing to the call of Morpheus, the display of the clock at her bedside displayed in bright red the time of a minute past six in the morning. That was why early in the day she made a beeline to the cafeteria to help herself to several servings of the hot beverage to help keep her eyelids from falling over her sleepy eyes.

"Princess, good morning!" Ollie greeted.

She tried a smile that did not appear too drowsy. "Good morning."

She took a step forward after him as the line moved. Then he turned to her again, observing her with friendly eyes. "There's something…different about you today."

"Me?" She raised a brow. Uh…oh…She tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection on the glass stall that displayed the breakfast menu.

"You probably get this a lot…but," Ollie was first to reach for the coffeemaker but, noticing her empty yellow Tweety mug, a gift from Wally the previous Christmas, he was gentleman enough to pour hers first, then studied her face again. "You're…blooming."

She laughed nervously. "Me?" She wanted to add that she was not even able to sleep much last night and her eyes must look either puffy or bloodshot but that might sound smug. So she was reduced to uttering monosyllabic replies.

"Yes, you." He appraised her from head to foot. "Having…someone certainly makes a difference. Not that you need it, though."

She almost forgot that he meant Kal, not Bruce, but recovered just in time. "Well…thank you."

"You're welcome," Ollie smiled before leaving her to wonder.

Do I really look…different?

She shook her head. This having-two-boyfriends thing was simply confusing.

"Diana! Come join us."

John's cheerful voice made her head turn. And beside him, surprisingly early, was Bruce, in his uniform and trademark stoic expression.

She walked to their table, hiding a very excited skip in her heartbeat at the sight of Bruce, and sat. "Hello John. Belated merry Christmas." She turned to her boyfriend, displaying a nonchalant face. "Happy holidays."

All he could manage was a polite nod and she inwardly smiled at the little charade.

John did not seem to notice anything. "How was your holiday?"

The smile she had in her mind was now transformed into giggles at the remembrance of the wonderful afternoon she had. It was very hard to keep a straight face but it was necessary. "It was…quiet."

John laughed. "Yeah. Christmas alone at the watchtower. You should've gone to the farm with Superman and J'onn."

"Well…" She tried to focus her eyes on the marine, even if all of her was very aware of the other man across her. "…Next time, maybe."

"How about Gotham?" John turned Bruce.

"The same. Quiet."

She almost chuckled at the deliberate similarity of Bruce's reply but pursed her mouth immediately. A quick look at him elicited the expected response of a half-hearted glare, if there ever was one. Then she saw the empty coffee mug silently placed on his part of the table and wondered if he had difficulty getting some quality time with the bed too.

"Not much action last night?" John asked.

"If I had my way…" He was looking at her while he spoke in his baritone. "…There would have been."

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and immediately grabbed her mug as if to hide her face. If she could, she would have kicked him under the table because of the double meaning of his statement.

"That explains why you're…early today." She could not resist.

John laughed and for a moment she thought they were becoming too obvious. "Give love on Christmas day, like the song says," John commented instead, much to her relief.

"Exactly." The smirk on his face was unnoticed by the marine.

Her mind was preoccupied with cooking up a smart and quick retort but was interrupted by a sudden breeze of a crimson blur.

"Princess…" Wally sounded excited as he sat beside her carrying a large box. "This just came in for you. Express delivery."

"Oh, thanks Flash." Her eyes were fixed on the big white rectangular box that Wally placed before her. The center was adorned with quite a large green, red and gold ribbon.

"Is it scanned already?"

"J'onn took care of it," Wally answered John's inquiry. "There is no card though."

Her fingers untied the bow then lifted the lid. The inside of the box was lined with silver foil as insulator to keep the contents hot and fresh. Neatly folding and setting aside the wrapper, she was able to reveal different kinds of very mouth watering and delectable cookies and bars.

And I love muffins, cookies, cakes…any kind of pastry, she remembered saying and smiled.

"Hmm…that certainly smells great," Wally sniffed the tasty, buttery aroma.

She gave him a piece of a golden yellow, raisin-butter cookie that was gone in a blink.

"Wait for about ten seconds…" John mentioned, rather amused. "If…nothing happens to him, it is safe."

"Yeah." Wally smiled proudly then frowned. "Hey! Wait a minute…"

She smiled. "Okay, it is safe. Cookies anyone?" She offered, taking a piece of fudge brownie herself. John took a butterscotch bar, Bruce declined and Wally took almost everything of the kind.

She was just nibbling on the very moist and chocolaty square when a very familiar voice greeted from behind.

"Good morning," Superman's voice greeted everyone. "How was Christmas?"

John was first to reply and she saw Wally make an attempt but she hardly understood partly because he had mouthfuls of pastry stuffed in his face and mostly because she was too conscious of Kal just standing right behind her with his right hand protectively, and deliberately, placed on her right shoulder as he bantered with the group. She chanced a quick look at Bruce and it was apparent that the small gesture was not lost on him.

After the round of chat, Kal finally talked to her. "Here…I have something for you." He leaned in and handed her a wicker basket.

A wonderful smell emanated as she peeled off the decorative Christmas cloth cover. "Blueberry muffins! Thank you."

"Mom made that for you," it was almost said only for her. Then he said to everyone. "Well…see you all later."

She felt her body tense for a while at the thought that he would kiss her before he turned to leave, as an affirmation of their supposed relationship. Thankfully enough, he did nothing of the sort.

When Superman was a good distance away but definitely not out of earshot, Flash finally spoke in a whisper. "I think you will get along well with the future in-laws. How sweet."

Batman stood up. "Say hello to diabetes." He quipped before walking away.

Pairs of eyes stared at the retreating black cape. "Isn't he a ray of sunshine?"

"Always," she smiled at Wally.

"You know him." John commented after sipping on his coffee. "Maybe the holidays…remind him of, you know."

"It's either that…or…" Wally had this smirk. "…He's jealous."

"Jealous? Batman?" She looked at Wally incredulously.

For his part, John just chuckled at the observation and silenced himself with another pastry.

Very seriously, Wally was the last person she ever thought who would suspect that there was something between her and Bruce. And the very idea that was not very comforting and she wanted to hide her face inside the box, feeling the color creep up again.

She did not dare ask why Wally thought that way. And she need not to.

"Well…he's a man too. And I've noticed the certain way he sometimes looks at you."

"He glares at everyone, Flash." She tried to joke.

The young man beside her continued. "And I've also heard from Sha---" He abruptly looked at John. "…From someone that he tried to dig you out from a rubble once in Gorilla city. With his bare hands!"

She remembered the incident, his hands dirty from clawing at the earth to get to her. She gave him a thankful peck on the cheek for his gallant effort that day.

"Princess…" Wally's voice interrupted her reverie. "…That coming from Bats is a serious milestone in emotional development. Besides, he hardly visits the cafeteria. But lately…" He was giving her a knowing look.

"You've been hanging out with the Question too much." John sipped on his coffee.

"John…I know the man is jealous. I mean, who wouldn't be." Wally was definitely on a roll. "It's…difficult when you are up against the Big Guy himself. And the woman you have the hots for doesn't even notice that you exist. I mean…" He leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms on his chest. "You try so hard to impress her, fix her lattes when she's on monitor duty, tell her jokes to make her laugh, wish for just once that you be assigned with only her on a mission. But still…she sees you, with her beautiful blue eyes, like this little kid brother who will never grow up."

She was trying hard not to laugh now.

"Flash…I think you just spilled out your guts to Diana." John snickered.

"Oh…" Wally sat straight and blushed. "Can we…strike that out? Just pretend you didn't hear…"

"Want a piece?" She offered Wally a muffin.

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Later in the afternoon, after a less stressful than ordinary day, Superman called the founding members to a meeting to discuss minor concerns, updates and assignments to future missions.

In short, the meeting was a total bore.

She tried to suppress a threatening bout of a yawn and focused her attention to all the members sitting at the round table. Superman was discussing upgrades to the Watchtower security system with J'onn, John was looking on, listening in and once in a while contributing a suggestion. Wally was doing his best not to fall from the chair beside her. Across, Bruce was wearing an expressionless face, and she was surprised he had not stormed out of the meeting room yet.

Then, in the middle of somewhere in the technical discussion a loud beeping sound disturbed the atmosphere, making Flash almost jump from his seat.

"Where's the emergency?"

She grabbed the phone that was hooked securely in the belt of her uniform, immediately pressing anything that would stop the incessant beeping. When the noise disappeared, she looked at them guiltily.

"Sorry…"

Trying not to look obvious, she hid the phone from everyone else's view, under her side of the table. The crystal display showed that there was a message. She pressed 'Select' and the message appeared.

My cookies, though small, are better than his big muffins.

She laughed.

And then there was silence as everyone looked at her. Even Bruce was glaring at her. "Sorry…I just have a…message. Carry on."

How did he do it? She thought and looked at him sitting across her. He appeared to be joining the discussion though she could not see his hands.

A few minutes passed, Flash was sleeping again. Then another beep resonated though the sound was quickly muted by her hand covering the device.

I have this newfound appreciation for your uniform. It seems, so does Ollie.

Her eyes darted to his face again. He was facing her but she could not see where he was looking at because of the special lens on his mask that covered his eyes. He could very well be checking her out and the thought made her blush.

She tried to ignore him and looked back at Superman but her friend's lips could be moving but she did not hear any of his words. She was too conscious of the man across her.

He's doing this on purpose.Then she tried typing a message herself

A third beep.

You look more beautiful when you blush.

She finally gave him a glare that went unnoticed by the rest and she could see a faint smirk register on his face. She hardly even knew the meeting was over when he stood up.

"Just a reminder." he was looking at her while the other members started exiting the room. "No phones during the meeting."

"Oh…okay." She wanted to stick her tongue out at him if Superman had not interrupted.

"Diana…you coming?"

She smiled at Bruce then stood up. "Yes, Kal."

"We haven't talked yet about New Year's."

"Tell me about your vacation first." She walked away and there was a satisfied smirk on her face when her hearing caught a faint grunt from Bruce.

And since the day after Christmas was still quiet, when villains still seemed to be spending their holiday break scheming and plotting their next moves or simply just taking a breather from the hectic schedule, she spent the remainder of the day at the Watchtower, mostly with Superman as he relayed the Christmas day experience with his family and J'onn.

While her friend told the happy story of being back home with his parents, she felt a pang of guilt upon the thought that she, herself, was not sharing an important secret with him when of all the people in the world, Kal was the one whom she wanted to be the first to know. But she knew very well he would not approve, after all that he did to protect her.

As of the moment, there were things that were better left unsaid.

And as she walked back to her room that night, as the heels of her red boots clicked on the cold floor, she told herself that, in time, she would tell her best friend. But until then, her relationship with Bruce would remain a secret.

Bruce…She suddenly remembered the phone in her hand and was surprised that he had not sent a message yet.

Did she go too far by making him jealous?

Was he even jealous?

When she lay in bed that night, after patiently waiting for her phone to ring and it did not, she had a vague idea that…he was.

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"Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes?" He answered his secretary on the speakerphone.

"There is a…" The elderly secretary wearing spectacles assessed Diana from head to foot while she stood in front of the elaborate front desk. "…Delivery girl here who claims you ordered lunch from…Alfred's?"

In the other room, he smiled to himself. "Send her in."

"You may proceed," the secretary instructed her before returning to her boss on the phone. "And Mr. Wayne, Mr. Fox is on line one."

Smiling in acknowledgement when she saw him on the phone, she walked to the center of the room and gingerly placed the brown paper bag on the glass table, a little worried that she might scratch the immaculately shined furniture before adjusting the nerdy looking glasses that she wore. Looking all around her, it was not hard to notice that everything in the room was expensive. With dismay, she realized that her ordinary ensemble of zipped up, red hooded cotton jacket, jeans and sneakers clashed with the color scheme of the office, making her stick out like a sore thumb, a very sore thumb.

Nevertheless, while waiting for him to finish the phone call, her feet and curious mind dragged her around the warm, earth color toned room. She looked at the collection of books neatly arranged in the rosewood cabinets, the paintings that hung on the beige shaded wall, before approaching his side of the room to admire the simple décor just behind his leather chair.

"What do you think?" He was looking at her in silent admiration after finishing the call.

She turned to him then continued pacing around the room, feeling the table with her hand. "Nice…"

"Just…nice?" He was wearing an amused expression as she continued to look around.

"You don't have any pictures."

"What?"

"Pictures," she smiled at him.

He leaned on the leather swivel chair. "This is an office."

"So?" She walked near him. "Not even of an old girlfriend in your table?"

He laughed. "Most of my…so called relationships do not even last until the trading-pictures stage."

"Oh." She was standing close at his right side. "I have a question…"

"Yes?" He did not bother looking up at her because he was busy admiring the side view of her perfect behind, wonderfully emphasized by her tight fitting jeans.

"Are there no incidents of…a bitter ex pulling a sort of a Glenn Close of Fatal Attraction stint on you?" She placed her hand on her jacket pockets. "Because you seem to have quite a number of exes."

"Trust me." He finally looked up and smiled, wanting very much to pull her into the chair with him. "Bruce Wayne is never that…lucky with a woman. Besides…Fatal Attraction? You watched the movie?"

She walked away to stand at the front of his table. "Wally lent me a tape. He has quite a collection."

His right eyebrow rose. "Spending too much time with Wally, huh?"

She smirked at the way he spoke. "Don't tell me you are threatened by Wally." She smiled at the recollection of Wally complaining the other day that they do not spend much time together anymore.

He tried to deny. "I'm not jealous." Not with Wally.

"Uhuh…and because you're not jealous…" She crossed her arms on her chest. "…You did not even bother to tell me goodnight last night."

"I was…preoccupied. And I seem to recall, you were too." He paused for a moment. "With your…other boyfriend."

She laughed, almost forgetting she spent most of her afternoon with Kal. "Sorry about that. As peace offering, I sought Alfred's help to fix you lunch…fried chicken and freshly baked rolls." She remembered Alfred being surprised at her request but his eagerness to help showed her that Bruce already told him the news.

"Okay…forgiven." He stood up and walked to her, taking off her wide rimmed eyeglasses. "Just get rid of these."

She took the eyewear. "Borrowed it from---"

He placed a finger against her lips in a silencing gesture. He did not know why but he did not want to hear the name Kal on her lips because the way she spoke it reflected the bond they shared, a certain closeness that he was not and would never be a part of.

"Let's just have lunch, shall we?"

"Alright."

He picked up the bag and led her to a door on the far side of the room, almost hidden from sight. This door turned out to be an entrance to an elevator that secretly led to the penthouse.

"It's a bedroom," she said as she stepped out of the lift adding a Wally-like whistle of admiration. "A very big and cozy bedroom." She gave him a sidelong glance.

"For your information, you are the first female guest of this room." He followed close behind her. "I only use this when I'm terribly sleepy after a long night on…the other job."

While he opened the French doors that opened to a veranda that offered a breathtaking view of the city and placed the bag on a small table outside, she again busied herself by roaming her gaze appreciatively over the room. The hue was not different from the office, a little bit on the masculine side and darker, and the décor was simple yet elegant. A single painting adorned the wall on the right of the entrance, facing the French doors, a small antique study table was conveniently placed a few feet away. And in the middle was a king sized bed, the headboard leaning conveniently on the wall, the beige silk sheets and fluff pillows calling to her, inviting her.

Not able to resist the allure of the bed, her fingers lightly touched the silken sheets and with a little hesitation, she sat on the edge and felt the soft mattress give way under her weight. While waiting for his call to eat, she fell back on the bed and immediately loved the feel of smoothness on her back.

She closed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head, at the same time freeing her foot from the sneakers. "Definitely not like my bed at the Watchtower," she almost yawned. "Wake me up if it's one o' clock," she called out.

She wondered what Bruce might say if she joked that she would like to move in. But the smile on her face was erased when she felt a soft cold breeze touch her skin. She opened her eyes to the vision of him leaning on the doorframe of the partially opened French doors a few feet away, smiling at her. When his eyes momentarily left her face to admire the smooth skin on her taut belly that was exposed by her movements, she was suddenly conscious.

She pulled her jacket down. "I hope you don't mind," she smiled guiltily.

Her display of modesty was not lost on him. "Not in the least." He smiled at her innocence. No sane, hot-blooded man would mind a goddess lying on his bed. "A thought just occurred to me…that this is a record of sorts…" He walked near to the bed, wanting to be close to her.

"What?"

She was starting to feel a certain nervousness, a tenseness at the thought that it might be too bold for her by having lunch with him. But how was she to know that he had a penthouse, and that they would be eating lunch alone in a very inviting bedroom?

He made matters worse. "I have a girlfriend for two days that I haven't had the chance of…kissing yet."

She sat bold upright. "You've…kissed me before."

"Correction…you kissed me."

He was sitting beside her now, too conscious of his thigh that was now brushing its warmth against hers, too close that she found it a little hard to breathe, more difficult not to look at his face, his lips. Deep inside, even if she tried to dismiss it, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. The last time they kissed seemed too long ago.

But the memory of that moment, even if done as part of the job, made her feel warm and tingly inside, especially now that she saw him looking at her lips as if thinking the same way.

He leaned closer. "Now I'm going to kiss you."

His face slowly moved towards hers and the sheer wait was torture. There was even a fleeting instant when he stilled for a moment, as if daring her to make the final move. But she was too nervous to move a limb and he finally closed the small gap, as his lips claimed hers.

He kissed her softly, slowly at first. He felt so soft, warm, just like she remembered the last time his lips possessed hers. But unlike before, there was a stronger need that slowly developed, a hunger that was denied for a long time that needed desperately to be satisfied. And she felt it within her too as she moved with him, against him. Her heart was drumming faster against her chest every passing second that passed and the union of their lips intensified.

And then she felt his soft urge for her to lay down on the bed and she willingly obliged, their hurried breaths mingling as he deepened the kiss, parting, probing, moving within her. Now trapped enticingly between the sinfully smooth sheet and his body on top of hers, she slid slightly upwards so that they are both now in the middle of the bed, free to explore each other with lips and hands.

She never thought it would feel this frightening, but exciting at the same time, as if every fiber of her being was awake and alive at his every touch…

He always wondered what it would feel like to have her but never in his mind did he come close to feeling the way he did this day…

Her hands raked at his hair while he positioned maneuvered the lower half of his body between her legs. She offered no resistance and nearly cried out when she felt his need for her. And it almost drove him mad when he felt her push slightly. He wanted her bad…too bad that it hurt.

A delicious but dangerous kind of shiver ran up her spine when, even under the spell of the moment, she felt his right hand tug on the zipper of her cotton jacket because she was wearing nothing underneath except for a not-so-conservative black bra. Still with his lips devouring hers, he slid the fastening farther down to part at the hem, helping her free herself from it fully. Immediately, with his left hand to support his weight, his right hand roamed over her, busy exploring the taut skin. Then her own hands moved to his chest to clumsily unbutton his silk shirt. But after a few unsuccessful tries, she was not able to free a single one.

With amused but glazed eyes he eased himself off from her momentarily to unbutton his shirt, almost ripping it with impatience. After a few seconds, he tossed he fabric aside to return to her. With the light of day, she was free to admire the hairless chest, the chiseled abdominal, her hands boldly tracing the path of her eyes.

She heard a sharp intake of breath when a finger traced the angry scars that marred an otherwise smooth chest. Then both his hands took hold of hers to pin them on their sides, a few inches above her head, trapping her, her breasts heaving as she breathed deeply.

The movement did not escape his eyes and he devoured the sight of her as if seeing through the thin material of her black lacy brassiere. His head dropped downwards as he kissed the ample flesh exposed from the cup and teasing the part covered with his tongue.

Not able to bear the sudden onslaught of tiny pinpricks of excitement all throughout her body, a moan escaped from her parted lips and she arched her back as if to press him closer. In response, he dipped his head lower, planting wet kisses below her breasts and lower, to the taught muscles of her abdomen.

There was a small voice of alarm that sounded within when she felt his fingers unbutton her jeans.

"Bruce…" Butterflies were dancing in her stomach.

He was lowering the zipper very slowly, following the downward movement by kissing the skin underneath. "Hmm..?"

She moaned again before composing herself. "You have a…" She bit her lip as he continued torturing her. "…Meeting…at one thirty." She reminded him a little breathlessly.

For a moment he stilled, considering what she had just said. "I own the company." His voice was husky. "I can very well postpone any meeting I want."

Her dazed mind knew he could very well do that, but the conversation she heard him make earlier told her that the meeting was important. And she felt guilty for putting him in this predicament of having to choose between being with her or doing his job.

But he seemed to have made up his mind. The faint alarm signals that she heard before were now blaring in her mind when she felt his fingers softly tug at the waistband of her jeans.

"Bruce…" She was holding on to the last remnants of control. Someone between the two of them had to.

He finally lifted his glazed eyes to meet hers while a sexy and knowing smile played on his lips. "Is it about the meeting…or something else? Are you…afraid, Diana?"

She took a deep breath. She had to admit that she missed the feel of his lips on her skin immediately. "Nervous…excited…there are so many feelings I can't express." She was almost panting. "But of course, I can't let…our relationship interfere with your job. Even if you own the company."

As a sign of resignation, he lowered his head, his left cheek pillowed on her belly. For a while they remained in that embrace.

But then she felt a sudden attack of snickers at a thought. "Besides…" Her belly moved as she spoke. "I don't think you can make it to the meeting at all if we did not stop…"

Overcome by laughter at the picture of a very tired Bruce, she did not realize that he had eased himself upwards and in one swift movement, he had managed to flip her over so that she was now straddling him at the waist. A girlish scream escaped from her at the movement, causing her hair to fall out of place. With her right hand, she managed to gather them, twisting and holding them in place at the back of her head with both her hands.

She was aware of her beauty and of her sensuality. But at the moment, she was not aware that with her arms lifted, in this very enticing pose, her breasts heaving and straining as she breathed, any man would lose his sanity if he could not touch her.

And he was just a man.

He immediately sat up and kissed her again, deeper, harder that if she was not who she was, her lips would have been red and swollen, even bruised by the intensity of his passion. Then his lips hungrily sought the smooth flesh of her neck, sucking, licking and she arched her neck backwards to give him more access, though a little concerned that he might mark her.

But the concern was short lived when another moan escaped when she felt the fingers of his left hand trace the underside of her breast before feeling the weight of her bosom. The lace was the only barrier between his massaging hand and the warm flesh underneath. Wanting no barrier between his hand and her skin, his fingers traveled upwards to slowly slide the thin strap keeping the cup in place.

"Bruce…" Her voice was hoarse from desire. It was the last attempt to stop because she knew if he did not, there was no turning back. "We need more time."

She did not know her statement had two meanings. They needed more time before they dive headfirst into a more intimate relationship or they need more time if they were to continue with this lovemaking. She meant the first of course. He knew it but he wanted to believe she meant the other.

Stilling his hand he let a few seconds pass as if composing himself. Then slowly, he returned the strap to her shoulder and lifted his eyes to her flushed face.

"Have dinner with me…tonight." The desire in him was reflected in his deep and husky voice. That was the longest he could keep himself from touching her.

Tonight…

She studied his face for a moment, not answering immediately because she knew the true meaning behind his invitation. It was not just about dinner, it was about something more, to finish what was started.

She freed her right hand from holding him close and ran her fingers through his hair, then cradling his face, the face that her heart remembered only too well, she knew what her answer would be. She wanted to be with him more than anything else.

"Yes."

He smiled at her response and was suddenly reminded how trusting she was. How could he have waited this long for her? Why did he take so long to realize the magnitude of his feelings?

"Diana…I…"

"Shh…" She placed a finger to his lips. "Let's have lunch or you will be late." She kissed his forehead before pulling away with a little resistance.

Stepping out of the bed, her footsteps were muted by the thick carpet that covered the whole room while she walked but she was only able to take a few steps when his hands snaked from behind to embrace her.

"Bruce!" She slapped his arm that was encircling her waist.

He nipped at her neck lightly. "How am I supposed to have lunch with you half naked in the room?"

"Oh!" She forgot her jacket and laughed. "Sorry…I guess I'm too used to the my uniform…"

He turned her around and helped her into the jacket. In turn, she helped him with buttoning his shirt.

"Now…let's eat." He finally offered when they were already both decent.

With the need to be close to each other, they agreed to have lunch inside and not sit across each other at the veranda. Sitting cross-legged in front of the other with knees touching on the thickly carpeted floor, they shared the pieces of wonderfully fried chicken and buttered rolls by Alfred, feeding each other with bare hands, occasionally kissing.

She never knew lunch could be this wonderful.

He did not exactly liked fried chicken. But he was starting to see things differently.

When the short but definitely satisfying meal was over, they cleaned the mess they made together and returned to his office, with his arm on her waist.

He pulled her into the chair with him. For a while they remained that way, with her leaning onto him. But when his hands seemed to have a life of their own and started massaging her thigh in a way that made her feel vulnerable again, she stilled his hand with her own.

"Bruce…it's past one o'clock." She looked at his face. "I should be going."

He did not move but remained holding her close.

"Bruce…" Her tone was getting more insistent. "Somebody might walk in and catch the great Mr. Wayne making out with the delivery girl."

He laughed.

"Unless that has happened before." She eyed him suspiciously.

"Jealous?"

"Yes." She admitted. The thought of him with another woman hurt. "At least, I am honest with what I feel."

He sighed. "Alright. The thought of you with…someone, specially a man…I can't compete with…" It was hard to bring himself to admit his feelings.

He was saved by the intercom.

"Mr. Wayne, the meeting starts in fifteen minutes."

He reached out and pressed a button. "Yes, thank you."

She took the cue to stand up. "Can I have the…glasses back?"

He reached into his desk drawer and produced the nerdy glasses. "Can I have a goodbye kiss first?"

She bent and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. Then he placed the glasses on her. "Thank you."

He smiled at her. "You look like…his sister."

She laughed. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

He stood up and grabbed her by the waist and held her close. "When I have a girlfriend this beautiful…I have a lot to worry about."

"Having regrets already?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Never."

She tugged on his hand and he accompanied her to the door. "I'll see you tonight, at around eight."

Just before stepping out, she answered. "I'll be there."

When the door closed behind her, she leaned on it and closed her eyes, remembering what had just transpired a few minutes ago. She felt the color creep up her cheeks and a shy smile appeared on her face at the memory of his kiss and his touch and…the promise of tonight.

At the other side, his hand remained at the knob. He wanted to tell her a lot of things, most of all, he wanted to tell her what he truly felt. No more secrets, no more denials. Just the simple truth of his feelings for her. With a sigh, he knew he would have to wait till the night. And the way he was feeling, it seemed too long.

With light steps, she walked away. And when she reached the secretary's table, she noticed a certain expression pass by the other woman's face upon seeing her.

"You're still here?"

She smiled and adjusted her glasses. "I just made sure Mr. Wayne…enjoyed his lunch."

With that remark she left leaving the secretary staring in surprise at her.