Disclaimer: Still don't own Justice League, Batman, Diana, etc, etc. Still hoping though!
As always, perspective changes with –VvV-
Hope you're enjoying this take on "Secret Society" – are you almost ready for it to come to a close? Anyone have any ideas for "Hereafter"? I have a few…Suggestions welcome though.
Sorry, another sorta short chapter! A Happy Birthday Shoutout to Jen, Siriuslover4eva - hope it's a great one.
Chapter 9, The Warrior, by Scandal
"Shootin' at the walls of heartache, bang! Bang! I am the warrior…"
Diana's perspective-
I walked out of Gotham Stadium side by side with Bruce, careful not to let our bodies touch, to maintain the distance between us that couldn't be overcome at this particular moment. Right now, each of us was too raw, still ripe with emotions from the battle we had just concluded and the questions surrounding the future of the Justice League.
My eyes stayed firmly downcast, unsure of what to say to any of my teammates and currently unwilling to make the first move, whether it was in friendship or in anger. I hadn't managed to thoroughly process my feelings and I knew that right now, I was still too edgy from the fight, too swept up in the current of emotion racing through me to think logically.
The tension was palpable – each of us was quiet, trapped in our own thoughts and musings as the cheers of the crowd echoed behind us, a painful reminder of what they believed we stood for in comparison with the actuality of our current situation, a fractious, depressed group on the verge of collapse.
It was all simply too much to deal with and I watched as again, we went our separate ways, scattering like leaves on the wind, unable to bring either closure or a reforming. Not now, not today. Today was not a day for forgiveness, but for quiet reflection and time best spent alone.
And so I returned to the Watchtower, its hall hallowed with silence, the very stillness unusual. We were people of strength, of character and fortitude, of action and today; the change in our headquarters was markedly out of the ordinary.
The Monitor Room stood empty, no one supervising potential crises on Earth. The kitchen was quiet, no scarlet speedster gracing its presence for iced mochas and laughingly making fun of Green Lantern or Batman, "Bats" as he was affectionately referred to. There was no somewhat affectionate bickering between Green Lantern and Hawkgirl, as had been the case as of late, their arguments raging through the hallways as their stubborn wills clashed.
My room, however, was just as I had left it, but right now, all I wanted was a shower, to rinse away the day and start anew. Stripping out of my uniform, I headed for the shower and let the warm water revive my body and my spirits. I found myself humming softly as I exited the shower, drying myself with a towel and letting my hair stream down my back in wet rivulets.
Throwing my sopping towel onto the floor, I collapsed naked onto the bed, laying on my back and simply luxuriating in the feel of softness beneath me, taking a moment to relax and close my eyes, snuggling in and quickly falling into dreamless sleep.
When I awoke, I realized that it was time for action – it was time for me to confront Bruce and, Hera help him, discuss his protective tendencies in potentially dangerous situations. I was not going to simper and sulk, I was going to act, to take matters into my own hands whether the foolish man was prepared or not. He had made progress in our relationship the other night when he had sought me out, but I still felt that there were some points between us that needed to be cleared up, to be aired out so that each of us knew where the other stood. I had a feeling that there would be many more discussions such as this one with the continuation of our relationship. John and Shayera weren't the only members of the team with iron wills and right now, I was more than willing to initiate the first steely stroke. Donning my uniform, I quickly left my room, hurrying down the corridor.
Via the teleporter, I arrived in the Bat-cave, battle ready and armed with words when I noticed that the Batmobile was not in its usual spot. I groaned as realization hit – this hour of night, Bruce would certainly be out in Gotham, protecting the city. In my haste, I had not even considered the fact of time, just simply rushed here, eager to work through this with Bruce. And now, body tensed in anticipation, I didn't simply want to turn around and make my way back to the Watchtower. When I looked at the clock, I realized that Bruce would not be out much longer on patrol; that he would be returning within the hour with the dawning of the day.
Somewhat surprised that Alfred had not come down to the cave, I realized that the lateness of the hour would have prevented him from greeting me. The dear man was probably asleep in bed – my shocking appearance could not have been expected, or at this hour, much appreciated.
Looking around, I observed a section of the cave reserved obviously as a training room, a dojo and weight room combined to exercise all manner of skills. That would certainly be a constructive way to pass the time, to relax the tension that had invaded my body as I had left my room, intent on coming here.
After stretching, I began to move, limbering up my limbs and taking advantage of the time until Bruce returned.
-VvV-
Returning to the Bat-cave, I immediately detected a light shining in one of the side rooms – the exercise room to be exact. Quietly extracting myself, I leapt to the floor, feet landing softly as I moved closer, intent on discovering the identity of this predator. From the back recesses of my mind, I was reminded that Alfred had not come down to greet me, to ensure my health upon my return, or warned me of "a guest." This lack of action could only mean one of two things – Alfred had been taken hostage by the intruder or that he knew the identity of whomever was in the exercise room and had taken upon himself not to enlighten me.
Hearing low sounds emanating from the exercise room, I snuck stealthily closer, lingering in the shadows until I came in view of the room and my visitor – Diana. Letting out a small sigh of relief, I watched as she continued her movements, relentlessly pushing through the air with her arms, her face blushed with the sheen of perspiration and lit in fierce concentration. Beautiful. She spun on her heel, obviously intent on finishing off an invisible foe behind her when she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at me, stunned look written all over her face.
"Your technique could use some work, Princess," I told her, striding forward to within several feet of her, body loose and cape drawn around me. It had been a rather light night in Gotham and a sparring session might be just the thing to end the night with, to release the tension between us and hopefully loosen my tongue into emitting an apology.
She looked straight at me, breathing heavy due to her exertions, but her eyes lit with a teasing twinkle in them and immediately, I could see it radiating through her body as well, her hands landing on her hips and a smile teasing her face.
"Checking up on me?" she asked, the words an exact echo of those she had used in a Parisian hotel room. "Unfair advantage, Mr. Wayne." She pointed a figure at me, shaking it in mock anger before continuing. "Perhaps you could help me with…my technique?"
Her smile saucy, her hair falling in lustrous waves around her faces, I couldn't bring myself to look at further down her body - my mind was already in danger of a massive hemorrhage due of oxygen and I didn't want to take any chances. Reigning in my runaway hormones, I answered, a lust-filled bite to my words, "Anytime."
"Really?" she responded, her face glowing with anticipation and a smirking expression on her lips, "Then let's go."
She beckoned me forward, just as Shade had done earlier, and mimicking my earlier movements as well, I smiled, knowing that this exercise would result in little more than a grope fest.
I was half-wrong.
The teasing expression wiped from her face, she faced me intently as we circled one another before launching into the parry and thrust of battle. I could tell that she was not using her full strength, but I soon realized that this sparring between us meant something to Diana, as if her intention was to showcase her talents, to force me to understand that she was a strong, powerful woman, more than capable of defeating me in battle. And as the lust cleared from my mind, I realized that this battle between us was about more than physical prowess, it was about what she had been trying to tell me the other day when I had left without a word – our relationship was one of equality. I didn't have to worry about her like I did the others in my life, the citizens of Gotham, Alfred, and the like. I could relax my constant vigil because she could fend for herself more capably than any other person or woman in my life.
And with my brain trying to come to grips with this revelation, for once in my life, I neglected to pay the proper amount of attention to the woman sparring with me. As I stood there slack-jawed, her fist connected with my face and, reeling backwards even though her hit had been at less than full strength, I fell backwards onto the mat, my jaw throbbing with bruising a definite possibility.
I lay there for a moment, shocked that I had been so careless during a training session, and then Diana's face came into my view, only inches from my tired eyes, one of her hands gently caressing my aching jaw while the other brushed away my cowl, rubbing her knuckles softly down the side of my face.
"Bruce?"
I decided that advantage always lay in a surprise attack and immediately used her distraction to my benefit, pulling her down and pressing her lips hard against mine, regardless of the pain. This was the best kind of medicine, a loving woman with a kiss like heaven.
Clasping my heads around her head, I pulled her face back to stare into her eyes, cobalt now with desire and concern lacing their depths.
"I…understand…what…you…meant…before," I told her, voice deepening with arousal, punctuating each word with small kisses to her jaw line. "We're equals."
In her eyes, I could now read satisfaction and joy suffused her entire expression as she understood what my words truly meant, that I would try to relax my protective tendencies around her because I knew that she could stand alone, needing not a hand up, but a hand out…to her, in friendship and in love. I was secure enough in my own manhood to appreciate and respect that quality in a woman, especially one who rewarded my words with a lasting kiss, our tongues now in the dance of parry and thrust, enjoying the sweetness of battle.
Suddenly, she pulled back, looking at me with the return of that teasing glint that I loved so much.
"So, who won?" she asked coyly, running her hands down my chest to linger at my waist, rubbing softly, causing the heat inside me to boil and I grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, flipping her and pressing my body down into her as her arms wrapped around my back. Burrowing my hands in her hair, I muttered, "Who cares?" and resumed our lustful dance.
Next & Last Chapter: Dream On - The 7 try to mend their group...
Thanks for everyone who's been reviewing – greatly appreciated as always! Shooting for a total of at least 66 reviews (that's how many I received for the last story, One Spark, and I'm determined to beat it!) Help me out!
And currently in the lead for the title of the next story is...There's Still Hope. Anyone else want to add a vote? (See Chapter 8 for other title names)