Chapter 4

Marseille, France; May 1st, 02:01 EST

Mera followed Arthur into the room that they'd acquired for the night, feeling a little uncomfortable about the fact that they were forced to share not only a room but a bed. It was just her luck that there was only one room available and that it was a double-sized bed.

Her gaze fell on the bed that suddenly looked so small as Arthur began to empty his pants pockets. "Do you want the shower?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder at her.

"No, go ahead," she replied, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

Arthur made his way to the bathroom, pausing to look over at her. "I'll sleep on the couch," he offered.

"Arthur," she chided him as she glanced at the couch that was far too small even for her to sleep on. "We're both adults here. I think we can handle sleeping in the same bed together…as long as you promise to stay on your side of the bed."

He gave her a cocky smirk that caused her heart to stutter in response. "I think I should be the one worried about you keeping your hands to yourself," he flirted, ducking into the bathroom as a pillow was thrown in his direction.

Mera huffed in annoyance, angry with herself for allowing him to have such an effect on her and mad at him for not making any attempt to further what had started between them with that passionate kiss. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what was going on in that head of his.

Why was he holding back?

Had he changed his mind about her? Maybe he no longer cared for her in that way or maybe he never really had. The thought hurt too much to think about. She wasn't the kind of woman who would swoon over him or wait for him to make his mind up about what he wanted.

There was plenty of other fish in the sea.

She drew a deep breath and released it slowing as the sound of the shower invaded her thoughts. She knew that she needed to talk to him to find out what was going on with him, but her obstinacy and pride kept getting in the way of doing that.

She knew that she was being foolish about it all, but she had hoped for far more with him than just a single kiss. It didn't appear that she was going to get that at this point, at least not at the pace Arthur was proceeding at. She'd be old and gray by the time he made the next move.

Maybe she was going to have to be the one to give him a little push.

Lost to her thoughts, Mera suddenly looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, revealing Arthur exiting with a towel wrapped around his waist followed by a plume of steam. "I left you some hot water if you want a shower," he told her.

She immediately averted her eyes, doing her best not to stare at his chiseled physique or the way his long, wet hair clung to his shoulders. "Thank you," she murmured as she moved past him, disappearing into the bathroom.

Arthur snorted softly in amusement as he went to his bag, taking out a pair of clothes that they'd bought when they had first arrived in Marseille. He tossed his towel aside, pulling on the pants and shirt. He didn't want to sleep in his new clothes, but he doubted Mera would appreciate him sleeping in the nude.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, listening to the shower, and trying not to picture Mera in there. He'd never felt this way about anyone before her and he'd never met another woman like her. She was one of a kind—fierce and as fiery as her hair, stubborn and as determined as he.

He longed to kiss her again, but he had to admit that he was a little leery of rushing things with her. He didn't want to do anything to destroy what he'd found in her by charging ahead in their relationship too fast. He'd had too many flings and one-night stands to last him a lifetime. He didn't want that to happen with her. She meant far more to him than that.

"Arthur," Mera called, peeking her head out of the bathroom. "Can you hand me my clothes? I forgot to take them into the bathroom with me."

"These?" he coyly asked with a playful smirk, holding up the bag.

"Yes…please," she stated, holding her towel tightly against her chest.

"Come and get it," he flirted with her.

She gave him a pointed glare that only caused his smirk to grow. Provoking her was his favorite thing to do. "Arthur," she ground out his name. "I'm not coming out there."

"What are you afraid of?" he asked as he sauntered closer to her with her bag in his hand.

She lifted her head in defiance, her lips pursing in agitation. "I'm not afraid of anything," she insisted, clutching the top of her towel against her chest. "Now, give me my clothes."

Arthur dangled the bag from his fingers just out of her reach. "Here it is," he teased her.

"Arthur," she snapped with a scowl, reaching out for the bag without success.

He pulled the bag just beyond her reach as she tried to lunge for it without leaving the safety of the bathroom. "You can have the clothes for the towel," he told her with a grin.

"Fine!" she bit out, throwing the towel directly in his face before snatching the bag out of his hand.

"Hey!" he cried, pulling the towel off his head just in time to see the bathroom door slam in his face.

That didn't work out at all as he'd hoped.

"You're insufferable!" she yelled through the closed door.

"Come on," he replied, tossing her wet towel aside on the floor. "You got your clothes, didn't you? I'm the one who lost. I didn't get to see anything."

"And you never will at this rate," she shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded to know, scowling at the closed bathroom door.

The door whipped open to reveal Mera wearing a diaphanous dress that made Arthur pause, trying to make his mind work again. "You're just so…so…infuriating sometimes," she snapped, pushing past him.

"What did I do now?"

"If you can't figure it out, then I'm not going to be the one to enlighten you," she stated as she made her way to her side of the bed.

He watched as she climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her as she turned her back to him. He cursed as he made his way to the other side of the bed, climbing in next to her with a growl on his lip as he wondered where he'd gone wrong.

"Just be sure to stay on your side of the bed," she told him in no uncertain terms.

"Don't worry," he retorted as he laid on his back staring at the ceiling. "I plan on it."

She huffed in annoyance, her eyelids falling closed in frustration. The tension between them was suffocating and yet she couldn't muster the energy at that moment to do anything about it. She hoped that maybe things would be better in the morning.

If not, she just might have to shake some sense into that thick head of his.

Gotham Airport; May 1st, 06:35 EST

Diana smiled kindly to the flight attendant who greeted her as she boarded Bruce's private jet. "Please let me know if there is anything I can get for you, Miss Prince," she offered with a definite Portuguese accent.

"Thank you," Diana replied, making her way to the seat indicated.

She wondered what had happened to Bruce. Alfred had brought them to the airport and unloaded their luggage, but her traveling companion seemed to have disappeared somewhere along the way. She hoped he emerged soon. They were due for takeoff in less than fifteen minutes.

Bruce gave her a small smile as he entered the jet, the flight attendant closing and locking the door behind him. "All set to go?" he asked as he took his seat next to her.

"I think so," she replied. "I appreciate you returning to Paris with me. I hope I'm not taking you away from anything important."

"Not at all," he assured her as he fastened his seatbelt for takeoff. "I've been meaning to get to Paris to follow up on some of my subsidiaries. This will give me the chance while you wrap things up at the museum and your apartment."

"We just need to be back in time for me to meet Lois Saturday morning and then for us to meet with the contractor in the afternoon."

"It should only take us a couple of days or so," he told her. "Plenty of time to tie up loose ends."

They both sat in silence for several moments, wrapped up in their own ruminations when they both spoke at the same time.

"Bruce…"

"Diana…"

"You first," Diana encouraged him.

"No…please," Bruce said. "What's on your mind?"

"Bruce, I can tell that something is bothering you," she ventured, turning towards him. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything that's upsetting you. Whatever it is that you're dealing with, you don't have to deal with it alone. I'm your friend and I want to help you if I can."

He smiled softly at her, touched by her offer. "I appreciate that, Diana," he replied. "It's nothing that I can't handle."

"If you change your mind, let me know."

"I will," he assured her.

"Now, what is on your mind?" she inquired.

"I was just going to ask you if you're absolutely certain about this move to Gotham," he said, thinking of that letter he'd received from a mysterious sender. "I don't want you to feel like we're forcing you into something that you don't want to do."

Diana gave him a look as well as a small smirk. "Bruce, when has anyone forced me into doing anything I didn't want to do?"

"Good point," he responded with a nod. "I guess I was worried for nothing."

"You worry too much," she reminded him.

The corner of Bruce's mouth quirked into a lop-sided smile. "It's helped to keep me alive all of these years."

He couldn't help wondering who the sender of that letter could be. He was certain it had to be someone that he knew. If it wasn't Lex Luthor, then he wasn't certain who it could be. He needed to track down Luthor and find out to who he had given his secret identity.

Undisclosed Location; May 1st, 12:08 EST

Lex Luthor frowned at his reflection in the mirror as he finished dressing for dinner. He was quite disappointed by the fact that nothing had come out about Bruce Wayne being Batman. He would've thought that Deathstroke would've done something by now, but there had not been one shred of news out of Gotham City yet.

Maybe Deathstroke was doing what he himself would've done…toy with the Bat and make him suffer for as long as possible. He hoped that Wilson was torturing Bruce Wayne with what he knew about him now. Mental anguish could be very powerful.

Luthor straightened his tie, lifting his chin and turning to the side to observe his profile. While he never would've considered shaving his head before, he had to thank prison for his new look. It was the only thing that he appreciated about his short time spent in Arkham Asylum.

He smiled to himself as he thought about his time in jail. Batman had been so smug and self-assured when he had visited him at Belle Reve, trying to frighten him with his antics and his "Bat Brand". The Dark Knight had even gone so far as to have him transferred to Arkham Asylum, but Lex knew that he was not crazy.

No, he was seeing things more clearly now than ever before. He could only imagine the look on Batman's face when he discovered that he had escaped from Arkham. He knew that he was searching for him, but Lex also knew that he had covered his tracks well.

"The proverbial cat and mouse game continues," he murmured to himself before walking out of his room.

Taking the steps two at a time, he made his way towards the back upper deck. He had an important meeting to attend to. He just hoped that his guest didn't let him down. He had great plans ahead and he wasn't going to take anything less than perfection in making sure those plans were fulfilled.

Luthor nodded and smiled at his newest assistant Everly Meeks as he took his seat at the table prepared for him. He had to acknowledge a tiny pang of sorrow over the loss of his last assistant, Mercy Graves, but at the same time, he knew that it was a sacrifice that had to be made to ensure his own safety.

If someone was going to have to die, it couldn't be him.

"Is he here yet?" Luthor asked as the waiter poured him a glass of wine.

"He just arrived, Mister Luthor," Everly informed him. "He is being escorted to you as we speak."

Luthor grinned at her as he raised his glass of wine to his lips. He loved her Swedish accent. Mercy should've had a strong accent he decided as he took a bite of his asparagus. Ah, well, one couldn't have everything, could they?

"You called me here," his guest stated without preamble. "This had better be worth my time."

"So glad you could join me on my yacht," Luthor greeted him. "Won't you have a seat? Join me for some dinner?"

"I'll stand."

"Suit yourself," Luthor said with a shrug, reaching for his glass of wine. "You can take your helmet off if you'd like."

"It stays on," Black Manta ground out. "Why did you call me here? I can't imagine it's just a social visit or a dinner party."

"I have information that I think you might find valuable," Luthor informed him, pausing to wipe his mouth with his cloth napkin.

"What's that?"

"Aquaman and his red-headed girlfriend are in Marseille," he revealed. "They're staying in a quaint little hotel that I think you should have no trouble finding."

"Why are telling me this?" Manta demanded to know. "I thought your beef was with Superman and Batman. Why are you going after Aquaman?"

"It is, but I decided that if they can form their little Justice League, I can form a league of my own," Lex explained.

"Like an Injustice League?" Manta asked.

"Sure…if that's what you want to call it," Lex replied. "I already have someone handling Batman for me and now you have the opportunity to take down Aquaman."

"All the while, you get to keep your hands spotless," Manta pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Lex informed him. "I'm willing to fund this league I'm building…paying for whatever we need to eliminate the Justice League."

Black Manta took a step closer to Luthor, his hand itching to grab his weapon. He didn't like Lex Luthor one bit, but he could prove to be useful. "I thought you would've learned your lesson in Metropolis the last time you tried to end Superman and Batman."

"And I thought you would've learned your lesson in Sicily," Lex countered.

"Touché," Manta spat out, wanting more than anything to fire his harpoon gun at him at that moment, putting a spear right through his bald head. "I'm not really a team player. I don't trust anyone…least of all you."

"That's perfect because I don't trust anyone either," Luthor told him. "That's the first thing we can agree on. I think it could make a beautiful partnership. Don't you agree?"

"We'll see," Manta replied, abruptly turning on his heel to walk away.

"I'll be in touch," Luthor called after him.

Black Manta paused in his step for a single moment before crossing to the other side of the yacht. While the idea of partnering with Luthor made his stomach churn with distrust and suspicion, he did appreciate the information on Aquaman. He'd been trying to track him down for months, but he was always a couple of steps behind.

Luthor sat back in his chair as he watched Black Manta disappear from view. He turned his attention to Everly Meeks. "Come…join me," he offered, indicating the seat across from him.

She looked at him warily, knowing what had happened to his last assistant Mercy Graves. She wasn't going to end up like Mercy. She was going to be smarter and far more cautious. She took the seat as he poured her a glass of wine.

Luthor laughed as he handed her the wine glass. "Don't worry," he told her. "I promise I won't bite."

"I'm not so sure about that," she replied as she brought her glass of wine to her lips, her gaze locked on his. "I've heard what happened to your last assistant."

Luthor waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Mercy was mistakenly caught in the middle…collateral damage."

"I don't plan on becoming collateral damage," she icily stated.

Luthor's lips slowly curled into a grin. "I like that," he said with an appreciative nod, his gaze raking over her. "You have moxie. I value that in a woman. It tells me you're not afraid to stand up for yourself even to me. There aren't many people who stand up to me."

"I'm not afraid," Everly confirmed. "I also don't trust you."

Luthor's dark eyes held a gleam in them that was difficult to decipher. It caused a shiver to slice through Everly as he held her gaze. She wasn't about to back down or look away. If she did, she would lose what little respect she'd just gained from him.

"I don't blame you," Luthor admitted after several seconds of tense silence. "Hopefully in time, I'll be able to gain your trust."

"We'll see," she simply replied with a sly grin.

Luthor released a breath he didn't realize that he'd been holding. She was going to be formidable that was for certain. He couldn't let his guard down around her even for a second. He decided that he liked that about her. She was going to keep him sharp…keep him on his toes.

He would need someone like her if he was going to accomplish his goals.

"Here's to ending the Justice League," he said, raising his wine glass for a toast.

"Agreed," she said, clinking her glass against his.

She had known that this was going to be a dangerous venture joining the notorious Lex Luthor. He wasn't the FBI's most wanted for no reason. At the same time, she knew that it was an adventure that she didn't want to miss out on. It would hopefully prove to be quite lucrative in the end.

Paris, France; May 1st, 13:16 EST

Diana filled another box with her belongings, hoping they would survive the trip home to Gotham. These particular antiques were priceless and replaceable. Taping the box closed, she grabbed her marker to label the outside of it.

She sighed as she looked about her, knowing she still had quite a bit more work to do. She had to admit that as excited as she was about her move to Gotham, she was going to miss Paris and her apartment here. She'd spent a lot of time here, longer than most places she had lived.

It was definitely time to make a move. She had allowed herself to stay here for too long. Gotham was going to be a good move. It would allow her to start a new career at the Gotham Museum and be close enough to help Bruce build and manage the Justice League without an ocean between them.

She liked the idea of being near him as well as her other friends. She had never allowed herself to get very close to anyone after Steve died. She'd lost too many friends after that. It had been painful to endure, especially losing Etta and the others. It had kept her from allowing anyone to get too close to her.

At least until now.

She couldn't believe how close she'd allowed herself to get to Bruce. He was her closest friend, even more so than her other teammates. It probably had to do with the fact that they'd been through so much together including the death of Superman and searching for the other team members.

Getting up off the floor, Diana went into the kitchen, stirring the dinner that she had started. She began to wonder what was keeping Bruce. He had told her that he'd be here by seven, but it was long after that. She hoped that dinner held up until he arrived.

She wasn't nearly as magnificent a chef as Alfred, but she did know her way around a kitchen. She hoped to get some cooking lessons from Alfred after she moved to Gotham, finding a place of her own relatively soon. She didn't want to be an inconvenience to either man.

Bruce had reassured her multiple times that living at the lake house with them was not an inconvenience, but she knew how much Bruce valued his privacy and independence. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable in any way. He was going to want to go out on dates with other women…live his life without her there underfoot, witnessing everything he did.

Diana felt a sense of sadness with that thought, but she quickly pushed it away as she began to serve up the boeuf bourguignon. Thankfully, a knock at the door signaled that Bruce had finally arrived. Wiping her hands, she rushed to the front door, opening it to allow him in.

"You're late," she told him as she stepped aside to allow him entrance.

"Hello to you too," Bruce Wayne said with a chuckle as he entered with a box in hand.

"Sorry," she murmured an apology as she rushed back to the kitchen with Bruce following on her heels. "I was worried the stew would be ruined."

"I'm sorry, but I stopped at a local bakery to pick up a Tarte bourdaloue for dessert," he revealed, handing her the white box.

She looked at him somewhat warily as she took the box from him, lifting the lid to peek inside. "How did you know that I love peach tart?"

"I overheard you talking to Alfred about it the other day," he admitted as he removed his suit jacket.

"That was very sweet of you," she replied, kissing him on the cheek. "Now, sit. Your dinner is going to get cold."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured with a grin, savoring the warmth on his cheek from her kiss.

She brought the two bowls of stew to the table, setting them down before handing him the bottle of wine. "I'll get the bread if you open the wine."

"This looks amazing, Diana," he told her as she returned with the basket of bread. "I didn't know you could cook."

She smiled at him with a twinkle of mischief in her chestnut eyes. "You haven't tasted it yet," she reminded him.

"It smells wonderful," he said as he poured each of them a glass, handing her the wine.

"It's one of my favorite meals to make," she revealed. "It's warm and comforting. Besides, anything that goes well with bread is a win in my book."

"You really look like you eat a lot of bread," he teased, bringing the spoonful of stew to his lips.

"I like to run," she simply replied with a shrug.

"Diana, this is awesome," he praised her. "You'll have to teach Alfred how to make this."

She rolled her eyes with a snicker of laughter. "I don't think Alfred needs to be taught anything least of all by me."

"Don't sell yourself short."

"How did it go with your business meetings today?"

"They went very well," he told her. "I need to go back again tomorrow morning to discuss a few things, but I'll be free the rest of the day to help you pack."

"That would be great," she confessed. "I was able to get some important things boxed up, but there's a lot more here than I thought. I'm going to the museum tomorrow morning to pick up my tool kit, but then I'll be here at the apartment after that."

"My business tomorrow morning shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

"It's too bad we can't stay here longer," she replied. "There's so much here that I could show you. This is one of my favorite cities."

"I have to admit that as many times as I've been in Paris it's usually been for business and not for pleasure," he said. "I've seen a couple of sights…had business dinners at notable restaurants, but I've not had the pleasure of just seeing the sights."

"We'll have to come back sometime for a visit without business."

"I'd like that," he softly said. "I don't know the last time I did anything for pleasure."

Diana felt her cheeks grow warm with his words, an awkward silence falling between them. Bruce cleared his throat as he reached for his wine, taking a generous gulp before continuing. "What I mean is that I haven't had an actual vacation in a long time."

"Of course," she agreed with a nod. "That's what I thought you meant."

They both reached for the same piece of homemade bread, their fingers touching. They looked at each other at the same time, neither pulling back. Memories of being in the cave working on the computer, both of them reaching for the mouse crossed both of their minds.

"Diana, if we're going to do this, you're going to need to be more open…"

There was so much layered meaning behind those words, far more than Bruce had intended…or had he?

Bruce was the first to pull his hand away, but it was much slower this time than the last time in the cave. Diana gave him a slight smile of reassurance. "We keep doing that, don't we?" she noted as she took the piece of bread and handed it to him.

He took the offered piece smiling in return, his eyes darkening with something that caused her to shiver. "I wonder why that is," he ventured, suddenly feeling emboldened for reasons he didn't want to think about.

He had told himself he wasn't going to do this…had said as much to Alfred. Now, here he was pressing forward with no idea how this could go or which direction he even wanted this to go. Scratch that. He did know where he wanted this to go, but was it the right thing to do? That was the real question. He wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer to it.

The corner of her lips quirked as she retrieved another piece of bread. "What do they say?" she asked. "Great minds think alike?"

Bruce snorted in amusement, relaxing even more. "Great minds?" he questioned her. "Diana, you've been blessed by your gods. Your intellect is off the charts."

"You're not dumb, Bruce," she pointed out. "I think you're just about the most intelligent man I've ever met."

"That's quite a compliment," he replied, dipping his bread in his stew. "You've been around for well over a hundred years. That would be quite a few men that you've met."

Bruce's cell phone chimed at that moment, alerting him to an incoming call. He frowned at the interruption as he pulled his phone out of his pocket with a murmured apology to Diana. "What's up?" he asked without preamble. "I'm not surprised. Luthor is up to something. Keep me posted on how things develop. Okay…bye."

Diana could tell whatever it was, it wasn't good. "What's wrong?"

"It was Alfred," he replied, slipping his phone into his pocket. "He picked up a coded transmission from Luthor to Bruno Mannheim in Metropolis. Alfred's going to attempt to triangulate the call to pinpoint Luthor's location, but I have a feeling he's not going to be able to find him. Luthor is too good at covering his tracks."

"Who is Bruno Mannheim?"

"He's a powerful gangster who is the head of Intergang in Metropolis," Bruce explained. "He's a very dangerous man. I've been trying to take him down off and on for years, but I haven't been very successful. It looks like Luthor is trying to stir up trouble for Clark by getting Bruno involved in whatever scheme he's plotted."

"We better warn Clark," she told him.

"Alfred said he's going to inform him for us," he revealed. "I have a bad feeling that whatever Luthor is cooking up is going to be worse than we can imagine."

"Arthur and Barry haven't been able to find anything on him?"

Bruce shook his head in frustration. "He's there in the South of France…I know it," he stated. "We just can't isolate his location."

"I'm sure Arthur and Barry will be able to uncover something soon," she reassured him.

"Barry had to get back to Central City for work," he informed her.

"How is that going for him?"

"Great," he replied. "He loves his job and he's learning quite a bit. His boss is very happy with his performance and hopes to promote him soon."

"That's wonderful," she said. "I'm so happy for him."

"I have Cyborg going through all of Luthor's files that were confiscated when he was sent to prison," he continued. "I'm hoping he'll be able to find something hidden in there that will point us in the right direction, but it's plenty of records to go through even for him. Luthor was keeping tabs on a lot of people and events taking place all over the world."

Diana pursed her lips in anger. "I wish there was something more we could do. I hate feeling helpless to stop him."

"I feel the same way," he agreed. "As soon as we're done in Paris, we have to ramp up our efforts to stop him before he can cause his usual brand of mass chaos."

"Don't worry, Bruce," she assured him. "We'll finish up business here and when we get to Gotham, we'll be able to focus all of our attention on Luthor."

"Are you sure it's okay I stay here tonight?" he ventured. "I can get a hotel room if you'd rather."

"Nonsense; I have the spare bedroom already for you," she insisted. "I want you to stay here. It's the least I can do since you're letting me stay at the lake house until I can find a place of my own to live in."

The warm smile that she gave him seemed to draw him in, creating a sense of tranquility that had long been absent from his life before he'd ever met her. He didn't know she was able to do it, but she always made him feel as though everything was going to be alright. She made him feel as though he was a far better man than he viewed himself to be.

He found himself wanting to kiss her as she talked about what she was going to donate to charity and what she was going to bring back with her to Gotham. The way that her eyes sparkled and the animation in her voice mesmerized him as she talked about packing up her life in Paris.

He knew that he needed to tamp down on these feelings, arresting them and burying them deep or this could lead to disaster. There was someone out there that was after him with an unknown end game. He couldn't let her get drawn into his crisis and put her life at risk.

Still, there was a part of him that couldn't help thinking that maybe she was the only woman in this universe who could survive being a part of his world, navigating all the dangers with her usual bravery and warrior skills.

Either way, he knew he was in trouble. He either had to learn to live without the woman he loved or let her in and risk losing her forever to whoever was after him.

A/N: I wonder what Bruce will do about his feelings for Diana?

UP NEXT: Clark and Lois geet to work on Bruno Mannheim while Mera and Arthur have unexpected company. Will Bruce & Diana pack up the apartment and find themselves growing closer. :)

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