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Duty Calls, Chapter 2, You May Be Right, Billy Joel

Bruce's perspective…

Teleporting back to the Bat-cave, I took a moment to reflect on what had passed between Diana and me that day, first in Kasnia and later in Paris. I was still somewhat surprised by my acceptance of not only Diana's offer to have a relationship, but of her feelings as well. I had never been this relaxed at the inception of a relationship – normally because I was struggling to balance Bruce Wayne and Batman. Adding in a relationship, with so many balls in the air, it was obvious to even the most foolish that I would drop one. I blamed my past relationship failures purely on myself – I never put anyone ahead of Gotham and few women failed to comprehend or really understand that fact. And of course, there were those that never realized the delicate tightrope that I walked on everyday in order to be everything that I was. It may not have always been easier to keep my Batman persona hidden from women, but the emergence of the personality always seemed to lead to a relationship downfall.

This time, the balance of Bruce and Batman was counterbalanced by Diana and Wonder Woman. Each of us seemed to have someone to fit that piece of our lives, even if that someone was purely clandestine for the time being. I understood Diana's wishes to keep the relationship a secret, but I also knew that would not last forever. I was determined to make the precious little time we had now count, because one we were public, everything between us would be fodder for gossipmongers. And I could not endure the Flash teasing me about the feelings between myself and Diana. I much preferred being able to get a firm handle on this relationship before it became public knowledge and the endless speculation began.

It defied the logical, but things between Diana and I had already progressed to the point where no previous relationship of mine had gone, at least in the non-physical sense. We were already partners and teammates, actions and reactions honed to one another, and now we had advanced that practical partnership into a different sphere, one where emotions came into play as well, something I had never encountered so deeply in a relationship.

Unfortunately, I was not an expert once emotions were involved. I preferred the shadows, the concrete, and the logical. Emotions had been non-existent in my life since…for a long time.

But Diana was sunshine, and sometimes the shadows seemed to engulf me. Internally, I knew that the logical, rational drive within me could only thrive alone for so long in my brain before eventually I cracked, becoming as warped as the evil creatures that I relentlessly pursued each night on the streets of Gotham. And the endless social events I attended as Bruce Wayne hardly fortified my sanity, surrounded by witless, feckless debutantes and playboys.

This afternoon was the…happiest I could remember in a long time.

For the first time, I had felt comfortable enough with someone to bask in the light, to take happiness in the simple pleasures of life – a touch of the hand, a common interest, a first kiss, the true initiation of a relationship.

For so long, I had denied myself the simple pleasures so that I could work towards the mission – to be the best, the strongest, to live just one more night knowing that I could go out again and save someone else. I had nothing but my mind and my body, my discipline that kept me from certain death at the hand of the criminals that I faced in Gotham during the dark hours.

Today, I realized that the mission might in fact be stronger because I allowed myself to care, even just a little. I had more to fight for every night and more to lose if I failed in my quests. I would push myself harder to stay the best.

And I knew that Diana would support me to her fullest in that endeavor. She, unlike anyone else, could understand why I pushed myself, why I went out every night into Gotham, and who I was beneath the genial veneer of Bruce Wayne.

She didn't know my past, but she knew me, the man.

And I knew Diana. And today, I had learned even more about Diana – her love of classical poetry, the way she snuggled into a soft blanket at every chance, and the way that she kissed.

That kiss…

It had been almost a first for me – a melding of passion and softness that I had never before experienced in a first kiss. And I still could not wrap my mind around the fact that she had initiated the bold maneuver. But that was a reflection of Diana's character, strength and courage.

And I certainly hadn't minded reciprocating, even dominating for a short time. It was not often that a man could dominate Diana. I had recognized that fact early in our partnership and appreciated that quality in her. Relationships weren't based on dominance and subordination, but on partnership, equality. Diana may have been physically stronger, but I was intellectually stronger, balancing each other in yet another aspect.

I knew that eventually cold hard reality would set in on us, but for now, I was surprisingly willing to be content in the moment, with the woman, even turning the tables on her a bit in the Watchtower. So often, it was Diana that teased me, never backing away from me or the darker side of my personality – blowing audaciously into my ear in Kasnia, mocking me during our first meeting in her hotel room in Paris, and others too many to count. She always held her own with me, but I had never initiated any kind of teasing while in the cowl. The concept was entirely foreign. But today, preparing to leave Diana, I had tried my hand at instigating a little tease, a bold maneuver of my own. I knew where all the security cameras were located in the Watchtower, so it was a simple matter to gather Diana's hand in mine out of viewing range. In a daringly suggestive move, I had stroked her sensitive inner palm with my thumb, gently evoking the sensuous slide of tongues that we had earlier been sharing.

And now I knew another little secret about Diana – her sensitivity level rivaled that of her strength, a thought that wrenched my gut and gave me something to ponder for future physical endeavors. Was that sensitivity located only in specific areas or did it translate to the entire body – the endless legs, the bones of her hips, the…

Lost in thought, I failed to hear the footsteps that signaled an arrival to the cave and was taken aback to hear a voice split through the air:

"Good evening, Master Bruce."

I had actually been surprised in my own way, totally unaware that someone was sneaking up and entering my immediate proximity. Obviously, Diana was bad for the reflexes; at least, certain thoughts of Diana were certainly mind-consuming. I made an effort to deviate my mind from contemplation of Diana and instead, turned to Alfred as he continued his approach.

"Would you care for a sandwich before patrol, sir?"

"No," I stated brusquely. Pausing a moment, I debated letting my rascally know-it-all butler gather any details of my day before realizing that this was a battle I was destined to lose. My relationship with Diana may have been secret, but secrets and Alfred were like oil and water – they never seemed to work together. I knew I had precious little chance of keeping this one, especially once Diana began to spend any time at the Manor, but I also knew that part of the fun of the hunt lay in the chase. Alfred would have to work with the scraps I deigned to give him and although I knew that he would figure it all out eventually, it was more interesting to have him arrive at the information in this manner.

"I had something earlier."

"Ah, yes. How was Paris, sir?"

Enlightening, I thought to myself before replying: "Informative."

I knew that sharing witty repartee with the older man was never going to come to any good, but still, I relished the opportunity to hone my verbal skills on a master of the most superior and sophisticated variety. Alfred always managed to pick up the subtle nuances in tone, delivery, and body language, very similar to the ability of J'onn J'onzz, minus the telepathy of course. Alfred had taught me never use more words than necessary and keeping silent had done me well over the years, enabling me to observe the reactions of others and maintain the element of surprise. And, as the Flash had never managed to learn, it was always better to keep your mouth closed and be thought of as a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

"Indeed, sir. I take it the mission was successful?"

"Yes."

"And the Princess…?"

I was startled for a mere second before schooling my face into an expressionless stare, refusing to give Alfred the satisfaction of seeing my reaction to his subtle implication that something had occurred between Diana and I.

"Unharmed," I told him.

"I managed to catch a bit of the video feed from Kasnia earlier. Interesting viewing."

I kept quiet, turning to the computer terminal to check the criminal database to see what and who could possibly be plaguing Gotham City this evening, refusing to answer Alfred's unspoken questions about Diana. However, trying to focus on the screen in front of me in order to evade Alfred only served to prod him into action.

"I assume we'll be seeing more of her, sir. Congratulations. And let me take a moment to point out that tomorrow afternoon your schedule seems to be rather clear."

I turned away from the terminal and leveled a stare at the wily old devil. It always seemed that no matter how many steps I was certain that I was ahead of him; he managed to not only catch me but surpass me with apparent ease. But, at the moment, I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was, as always, in complete command of the situation. I stalked over to the Batmobile and climbed in.

As the cover began closing, I heard Alfred's parting shot:

"Goodnight, Master Bruce."

I know you're out there, so let me know what you're thinking!

And I do love Flash, he's just a silly guy sometimes! And he and Bats aren't exactly on the same page. And Alfred and Batman are the most interesting combination – master and protégé, constantly trying to keep each other on their toes. And of course, Alfred wins and Bats won't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging the victory – just stalks off into the night, defeated, eager to win in another type of battle.