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Alright, this one took me a bit longer than usual, but it is also longer than the first two. It's a bit of a slow-burner sometimes and probably needs some editing, but let me know if this length is preferred. I don't own any of the characters. Thanks, and enjoy. Thanks to an anonymous review for pointing out a characterization problem!

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Batman descended to the crime scene like a vulture, eager to tear into the pieces others had missed.

"It looks like everything played out pretty much the same here. Knocked unconscious at the door, dragged to a corner and stabbed to death while gagged. Then he would have removed the gag and poured the hot syrup into her mouth and throat."

He went to the nearest bathroom checking for prints again. He found some, but became discouraged when he realized just how partial both of the prints had been.

"The murderer knows what he's doing. I can't get prints, there's no telling whose DNA is whose, and he has chosen seemingly unrelated victims. He's smart and he has done his research." He moved to the stove. "He made the syrup here. Probably, so that he wouldn't have to keep it hot while he murdered her."

"We aren't catching him tonight, are we?" Diana frowned.

"No. I'll head back to Gotham, so that I can analyze what I do have." He hesitated, this was probably a bad idea, "Come with if you want, but I'm not sure I'll get anywhere."

She nodded, reminding herself not to read too much into the invitation. He probably just did not want to catch her up to speed tomorrow night. As they left the crime scene, she got an idea.

"Bruce, does the Batcave's hangar have extra space?"

"Yes, I wanted to make sure I would have room for new models or in case, for some reason, I needed to park another plane…" A devious smile appeared on her face. "No. Diana I don't think that's the best…"

"Race you," she cut him off and then flew off into the night.

Bruce shook his head, but he smiled, and found himself burning his excess fuel to get back faster despite his apparent reluctance. He would have had no chance if she had opted to fly without the aid of technology, but the Batplane was faster than the Invisible Jet. From what he had seen, the Invisible Jet was capable of around 2,000 mph, whereas the Batplane could exceed Mach 3. Unfortunately, he did not have enough fuel to maintain maximum velocity for the entire return trip. It would be close, but as long as he did not lose too much time getting to the Batplane, he should win.

He hopped into the Batplane and initiated the vertical takeoff sequence. In an attempt to conserve fuel he rotated the plane while ascending and as soon as the nose of the plane was facing Gotham, opened up the thrusters all the way. There would be a massive scorch mark in that field for months. The Gs were brutal, plastering him against the back of the seat and forcing him to take quick, short breaths to keep from passing out. Once he reached the maximum maintainable velocity, he pulled back on the throttle and relaxed. He flipped a switch that opened intake valves. The plane would use its own speed to fill up a pressurized air tank. He could then use air thrusters to decelerate astonishingly fast, allowing him to maintain almost full speed until he was right outside the cave.

When his GPS told him he was approaching his destination, he mentally prepared for the deceleration. The G-force would be a lot worse stopping than it had been starting. He pulled up until the plane was at a little more than a 45 degree angle with the ground to maximize air resistance as well as allow him to use his landing thrusters. Both air and jet thrusters forced the plane to what-from his perspective-felt like a sudden stop. However, an observer would have seen him cover more than a few football fields performing this maneuver. He leveled out the plane and slowly brought it into the Batcave hangar. He looked at the fuel indicator with pride before hopping out of the cockpit, he had used almost every single drop.

As Diana landed her jet in the Batcave she was surprised to see that Bruce was still hooking up the Batplane to a fuel pump. She had just assumed that the Batplane was significantly faster. She patted the dash of the Invisible Jet; it was nice to know that even the Batman had trouble beating Amazonian tech. She hopped out of the cockpit and started to do her routine checks of her plane to make sure there was no damage.

"You should modify my jet. Make it a fair race next time."

"I should modify your jet? Your stealth tech is years ahead of anything I could make, and your fuel capacity is ridiculous! Roundtrip trans-atlantic flights at supersonic speeds without refueling?"

"Yeah, but your jet is significantly smaller, more maneuverable, and faster."

"That doesn't do me much good when I can't go much faster than you without running out of fuel halfway through the flight."

"I believe the expression is: The grass is always greener on the other side." Diana and Bruce turned to see that the voice originated from Alfred. Who was clearly enjoying the altercation for whatever reason.

Bruce turned back to Diana and narrowed his eyes. "I'll make modifications in exchange for that stealth tech."

Diana smiled. "Fine by me, but you're going to have to figure it out yourself. I have no idea how it works."

Bruce nodded, the momentary slip into playful banter abruptly ending as the Batman returned to the helm. He headed over to a part of the cave stocked with scientific equipment and began examining the sample he had taken of the substance that was in the second woman's mouth. He had her help with some of the tests he ran, but for the most part opted to work alone. He was intensely focused on what he was doing, so after a while Diana decided to explore, but before she stood up he leaned back, brow furrowed, eyes still fixated on the paper he had been writing on.

"What is it?" She asked.

As if he had forgotten she was there he looked up, slightly startled. "Oh...um...it isn't candy-like. It IS candy. It has to be symbolic of something."

"Well isn't candy usually associated with childhood?"

"Yes, but the stab wounds...no..."

"What?"

"I had assumed the victim was subconsciously, sexually frustrated. And while that is still most likely true, that is not the main motivation for the killings. It's about mothers. The candy used to shut them up and killing them in the corner, which is commonly used as a place of punishment... These women were targeted as mothers, not wives. The murderer probably doesn't even know he has an oedipal complex, hence the slight concentration of stab wounds around the genitals. The more obvious concentration was on the lower abdomen, the womb." Bruce had walked over to his computer while speaking and now began typing.

"I've heard this 'oedipal' term used before. Something to do with wishing to kill one's father and bed one's mother. I see the connection to Oedipus, but he did not know that it was his father he was murdering and his mother he wedded. The whole theory is patently ridiculous. I have not met one person who wishes this."

"That was exactly Freud's point. He believed that most people suppressed this desire, to the point where they did not realize they wanted it themselves. Freud would say that despite being raised separate from them, Oedipus carried out these acts because he subconsciously recognized the traits he shared with them."

Diana had visibly grimaced at the mention of Freud. "I have heard of this man, Freud, as well. He thought everything was about one's genitals. If you ask me, he was just a perverse man looking to justify his own thoughts by claiming others had them also."

Bruce was pleasantly surprised by her analysis of Freud. "I agree to a certain extent, Princess; but I have noticed that in my line of work, he is mostly correct. I think it is more likely for abnormal psychology to show Freudian tendencies." He realized as he spoke that he had never actively thought about this, even though he really did believe it.

Diana laughed. "Would a man who dresses as a bat and is singularly devoted to a mission count as abnormal psychology?"

Bruce let out a chuckle. "I suppose so. Freud would probably say that the absence of my parents stunted my development, preventing me from ever properly socializing and causing me to be unhealthily devoted to my dead mother due to only having her as an example of female sexuality." Bruce paused. "And he'd probably be right."

He frowned, his application of Freud's theories was explaining his behavior a little too well. The worst part being that he could keep going. He panicked, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. "But clearly she isn't my only example of female sexuality," he blurted out, then winced and kicked himself internally.

Diana, who had been looking a little uncomfortable, perked up a little at this. "Oh?"

Bruce decided the best strategy was silence and started typing furiously. Luckily, years of ignoring people allowed him to do this without raising suspicion...at least he hoped that was the case. Diana rolled her eyes once he had turned back to the computer and could no longer see her face. She quickly figured out what he was doing as hundreds of cases of child abuse in the Gateway area popped up on the screen. She watched as he had the computer only show him the cases where the victims of abuse were now young men with criminal records. There was still a long list. He then ran a program that reconstructed the fingerprints he had collected to the best of its ability. After he had compared the fingerprints with those remaining on the list, here was only one suspect left.

"This is nowhere close to a guarantee that this is our guy. The murderer might not have a criminal record, the abuse could have gone unreported, and fingerprint reconstruction is dodgy at best. But I am fairly certain that we are dealing with a young, intelligent male who was abused as a child by his mother. There is a lot of margin for error, but with nothing else to go on, talking to this guy is worth a shot."

"We won't be doing much 'talking' to him though, will we?"

Bruce smirked. "No, probably not."

Diana yawned, it was late morning already. Alfred, as if sensing that someone was in need, materialized behind them.

"If my lady is ready to retire, I can show her to her room." He bowed and made a gesture with his hands toward the staircase.

"Thank you, Alfred, but you really don't need to be so formal," Diana was clearly amused.

"With all due respect, my lady, I think you forget my heritage. I am British, and you are a princess."

Diana curtsied with an imaginary skirt, mimicking the western idea of royal decorum. "Well then by all means, lead the way."

Alfred did an about face in military fashion and marched off. "As for you, Master Bruce, you have a meeting at Wayne Enterprises in half-an-hour. Best get to it."

Diana gave him a look of pity before curtsying toward him as well. "Milord." Bruce grunted in reply, his face not betraying his amusement and then watched her leave. Her humility may have caused her to dismiss Alfred's treatment of her, but she really did move with grace and poise. He got up to get ready for the day.

…

Diana woke up several hours later. She felt groggy, but figured she would get over it soon enough. She got up and opened the curtains in the guest room, blinding herself with the light of the midafternoon sun. Once her eyes adjusted she changed out of the pajamas she had been provided and back into her armor. She put her Justice League communicator back in her ear, secretly hoping that she would be given something to do while Bruce was doing his day job.

"Diana to watchtower."

"Watchtower receiving," replied the martian.

"I have a few hours, got anything for me?"

A few moments of silence before the response. "Only a few minor humanitarian issues, but I doubt you would be able to do much with a few hours."

"Thanks, J'onn. Diana out."

She stared angrily at the nearest wall. What was she to do? There was no point in going anywhere very far and Batman would not be too happy if she made a public appearance in Gotham. She opened the door to the guest room to be met with a small cart blocking her path. On top of the cart was a thermos of coffee and a short note:

Trying to get some sleep while Master Bruce is away. If you need anything, wake me.

~Alfred

She picked up the thermos and made a mental note to thank Alfred later. She shrugged, exploring was worthy of her time. Something she had not realized last night was that the guest portion of the manor was designed in a way that would allow someone to spend nearly all their time in that one portion of the house. Finding herself disinterested in something so many others had seen, she moved on. She soon discovered that portions of the mansion were practically museums, stocked with a veritable cornucopia of artifacts and pieces of art. In stark contrast, some rooms and even entire sections of the house were eerily empty.

She opened the door to one such room and saw white sheets over all the furniture. She ventured in and saw that there was a dark fireplace that had not been lit in a long time. There was a bin of toys, shelves full of games and books, and a model train table under one of the sheets. Feeling like she was intruding on something, she decided to leave. She closed the doors with mild reverence.

"I still clean in there occasionally." Someone not used to the appearing act would have jumped. Alfred was standing there with the slightest hint of a frown on his face. "He goes in there less and less over the years."

"Why?" She asked, despite being fairly certain of the answer.

"Too many good memories, soured by time and loss. Would you like to see the gardens?"

They left the confines of the ancestral home and stepped out into the light.

"I have a grounds-keeping team on payroll." Alfred smiled. "But I never allow them to come when Bruce is around. He still thinks I do all this myself. Along with sewing up his wounds, cooking, cleaning, aiding his missions from the cave, and entertaining the guests he refuses."

"Alfred, you might be the one person on this planet capable of hiding things from him." She took in a deep breath, smelling the plants and the fresh air.

Alfred chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Unfortunately, I think that may be because I'm the only person he trusts."

"You must tell me how you achieved that," she joked.

Alfred sighed and his shoulder fell. "I truly wish I could share a trick or a secret with you...but I'm afraid it really just comes down to me being there before."

The regret emanating from the butler was palpable. "You can't blame yourself, Alfred. A million other children could be put in the same situation and none of them would do what he decided to."

" 're right of course, but no one can override how they feel with logic. Not even Master Bruce."

"I know." She stopped walking and hugged him, and it was in that embrace Alfred understood why she was called 'Wonder Woman' and not 'Superwoman'.

"So." Alfred decided to change the subject. "I must know. What is Themiscyra like?"

Diana's whole face lit up. "Well…" she spotted a rather Corinthian looking gazebo and some flowers that were just about right. She led him over to a spot where-forgiving depth-it looked like the flowers were growing next to the gazebo. "It looks kind of like that." She held up in her hands framing the view. Then continued:

"The architecture is similar, but more stark in appearance. Except for the statues of course, they are gorgeous. Amazonian sculptors will sometimes spend a hundred years on just one, making sure it's just right. The water is the clearest you'll ever see and the fields are full of green grass and fruit-bearing bushes. Sometimes the wild horses would run across the fields, seemingly just for us to drink in their majesty." She went over to a fountain. "There was a fountain in the main square, not unlike this one, but with a statue of Aphrodite rising out of the waters." She closed her eyes. "I remember from there you could hear the warriors train and the women in τὴν ἀγοράν talking and-if you listened closely enough-singing from the Temple of Hera. ὦ Ἥρα, I miss home."

"You know, milady, if you were to put a million other people in your situation, none of them would have left."

"Alfred. That stubborn man doesn't deserve you."

"While I am flattered, princess." He gave a short bow. "I believe we both know he deserves far more than he allows himself to have."

They enjoyed the rest of the garden in silence.

…

It was not difficult to feign disinterest in the Wayne Industries board meetings. They were genuinely incredibly boring. What was difficult was staying focused and paying attention despite feigning disinterest. His mind had a tendency to wander, mostly to unsolved cases and unsolved people. His most recent case did not disappoint in these categories. Bruce had gone over the case a hundred times in his head, hoping upon hope that he would think of some unpursued lead or a place he had not looked. The unfortunate reality was, in the absence of any real forensic data and with the victims having no recognizable connection, he would have to wait for the killer to make a mistake. And waiting for a mistake meant waiting for another death, or two, or three. He shuddered internally while keeping the bored, lazy look on his face.

He had already considered looking for any recent purchases of chloroform in the Gateway area, but this was doubtful to pan out with someone as careful as who they were dealing with. Not to mention that it is possible to make chloroform with household items. Although in order to get the right concentration to knock someone unconscious effectively, the perp would need at least basic chemistry knowledge. He could only hope that the suspect they had singled out early that morning would be the actual killer. If not, he would have to tell Diana that they would have to wait for a new victim. He winced, best case scenario if it came to that, she yells at him to vent her anger at the situation. Worst case scenario, he gets hit, hard. No, he thought, the worst case scenario would be if she just gave him one of her looks of disappointment and left.

"I was not aware boredom could cause physical pain, Mr. Wayne." Lucius Fox looked at him over his glasses with eyebrows raised.

Bruce just lazily smiled back, knowing the comment was for his benefit. Lucius was just trying to let him know that he had momentarily let his guise fall. "Why don't we just buy them?"

"Your creativeness and insightfulness amaze us as ever, Mr. Wayne. However, I'm afraid that is not really an option in this...particular instance."

Once the meeting was over, he drove back to Wayne Manor. It was late afternoon, but still nowhere near time to leave for Gateway. Before he parked the car, he checked the security logs to make sure everything was as it should be. Camera feed showed Diana and Alfred in the kitchen, he also noticed that according to the entrance and exit logs, someone had spent a good amount of time outside. He parked the car and made his way inside.

"Master Bruce! Welcome home! We require some help setting up for dinner!" Alfred called from the kitchen as soon as he knew Bruce was in earshot.

Bruce made his way to the kitchen, the distinct smell of Eastern food getting stronger as he went. When he entered the kitchen he was met with a panoply of different dishes. He was also somewhat taken aback to see Diana wearing traditional Greek clothing. He noted the purple Greek key running along the edges of her himation, this was probably one of the few garments she had been able to bring with her from Themyscira. Did she just keep it in her plane?

"Don't you think this is a bit much for the three of us?" Bruce dreaded the answer, but needed to ask it anyway.

"I was curious to know if the princess knew any recipes that had been lost to time, or were unique to Themyscira that I could add to my repertoire. I was not disappointed. When I noticed how much food we had made, I made arrangements for Master Dick, Master Damian, and Ms. Gordon to join us."

Diana was beaming. "Mother taught me a few things over the years. I don't think I remembered any of these exactly right, but Alfred's expertise allowed us to reconstruct them to a more than satisfying degree."

Bruce decided not to argue with them. What was done was done and the food did smell fantastic. Instead, he gave his consent by starting to load up trays and carts to take out to the dining hall. Once he left the kitchen with some of the food he shook his head, Alfred loved to use any excuse he could think of to get the whole team together. He imagined having someone who actually wanted to help him cook had not helped the situation. It made sense though, while he was in Gateway Nightwing and Robin would need to patrol the city, and Oracle could work from the Batcave tonight, so Alfred was not seriously inconveniencing or displacing anyone, just huddling a bit prematurely.

They were in the midst of setting the table when Barbara came through the door, arms crossed as Dick pushed her. Clearly she had lost the fight over whether or not it was more helpful or degrading to be pushed around by someone. Bruce watched as both of their brows furrowed and heads tilted to one side as Diana entered the room carrying dishes. Bruce shot a glare at Alfred, he had failed to tell them that Wonder Woman would be there. The two recent arrivals quickly made the connection between the semi-familiar face and the clothing. Dick was in clear shock and Barbara went from amazement to giddy.

"You didn't tell us Wonder Woman would be here." Barbara practically sang the words.

"Did I not? Must have slipped my mind." Alfred feigned innocence.

"Please, call me Diana. You must be Barbara and Dick. Alfred filled me in a little bit."

Barbara took the opportunity afforded her by Dick's shock to free herself from his grasp. She rolled up to Diana and shook her hand. "Yes, I'm Barbara. I'm a huge fan of your work, Diana." Barbara looked her up and down. "You're making me feel a little underdressed."

"I assure you this is everyday clothing on Themyscira, if anything I am underdressed. I just didn't want to wear my armor or any of the clothes Bruce has in the Manor to provide for his 'conquests'."

Barbara snorted. "Don't get me started." They both laughed at this and at Bruce's apparent distaste of the current conversation.

Dick leaned in towards Bruce while watching the two women laugh. "I take it this wasn't your idea then?"

"What clued you in?" Bruce replied in a monotone voice.

"Well if you need any advice on dating a princess from another world…" Dick trailed off fully expecting the scowl and glare he got for that joke.

It was not long before Damian entered. He had been at school and then with friends. There was no look of shock on his face, he just strode in, nodded at Bruce and Dick and then sat down with an unconcerned, "Hey Wonder Woman. Business or-"

"Business." Bruce cut him off before he could finish and gave him a glare as well.

Barbara motioned for Diana to lean in so she could whisper to her. "I think he doth protest too much."

Diana rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

All Bruce saw was an exchange of comments that were accompanied by looks in his direction and then the attempt to conceal amusement. If the Batman could be scared, he would have been.

Once everyone was seated there was the usual attempt by Alfred to slip out and eat elsewhere which always failed. After everyone had convinced Alfred that his attempt to act in a way befitting wait staff would be met with a general refusal to eat, Alfred took a place at the table and they dug in. Dick and Barbara praised Alfred and Diana's work and Damian showed his gratitude by eating several helpings in the span of a few minutes. Alfred smiled, mentally noting which dishes appeared to be the favorites. He had written down all the recipes for later use. He realized with pride that if he had the mind to, he could open the only Themysciran restaurant in the world.

Diana broke the few minutes of silence. She pointed at Dick, "Alright, I'm going to guess Nightwing…" she pointed at Damian, "Robin…" now Barbara, "Batgirl?"

Barbara shook her head. "Not anymore, obviously." She gestured in the general direction of her legs. "I'm Oracle now."

"You're Oracle?" Diana chuckled.

"What?" Barbara did not know whether to be offended or not.

"Oh it's nothing. One of the female leaguers-I won't say any names-has commented that your fake voice sounds hot."

"Well, I won't say that wasn't intentional."

"So what's this 'business' you have in Gotham?" Damian cut in, not at all amused.

"Actually, Bruce has business in Gateway. We just required the equipment he has here to continue the investigation." Damian raised his eyebrow at her and she was struck by just how Bruce-like he looked when doing that.

She looked from Damian to Bruce and then back to Damian, but before the question could be asked, Bruce answered. "Yes, he's my son."

Diana wanted to ask who the mother was, but decided that might very well be an inappropriate topic to broach in the current setting. Another silence fell and Dick lost track of what he was putting in his mouth as he watched the tension grow. He knew Bruce would not explain the situation, but part of him hoped he would. Maybe not now, but at some point he should definitely tell her.

Damian, perceiving the tension, scoffed. "Yeah, 'business'. I suppose this means Dick and I will be on patrol tonight?"

Bruce gave Damian a full-blown Batglare. "Yes. Hopefully this will be the last night I'm gone."

Diana explained the case, and what had happened so far, and the conversation quickly started again. Eventually it split into Diana and Barbara discussing the current world climate and geopolitics, Dick and Damian discussing some of their recent adventures, and Bruce and Alfred remaining silent. Alfred did this out of subservience and not wishing to interrupt anyone, and Bruce stayed quiet because, well, he is Batman.

The night had to be cut short so that all of them could get back to their respective duties. All except Alfred headed down to the Batcave to suit up; or in Barbara's case, change as much as she could about the Batcomputer to match her preferences. Nightwing and Robin said quick goodbyes and then left to go on patrol. Bruce and Diana started preflight checks on their planes.

"You never told me you had a son."

"Didn't think it was important."

"Oh, please! Stop being so dramatic, Bruce! Tell her what happened!" Barbara shouted from her chair as she entered the hangar.

When Bruce remained silent, Barbara sighed and attempted some damage control. "Look, all I can say is that Bruce should really explain what happened. Suffice it to say, the situation surrounding Damian's existence is...complicated. I'm sure he wants to tell you, he's just too stubborn."

After Batman had thrown Barbara his trademark glare, he somehow became even more focused on his work than before. He did want to tell her, he wanted to explain that while he loves Damian, he did not want him. The Bat had other plans. This was an opportunity to push Diana away, refusing to share a past that hinted at previous romantic involvement should make her angry. However, Diana did something he did not expect, she walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He did not react. Knowing she had communicated more with that gesture than she could with words, she continued her preflight checks. Barbara turned and hid a grin, by leaving the room.