Chapter Twelve: Coming Home

Diana was aware of pain, somewhere in the back of her mind. The lasso's light blinded her at the first attempt to open her eyes, so she slammed them shut again. The golden perfect was cutting into her burned hands, but she didn't feel it, only knew that she should, considering how tightly she was holding on.

The light warming the outside of her eyelids began to fade, so she dared to open them again. Far in the distance stretched a land of rolling hills and glittering water under a golden sun. A semi-circle of mountains dusted with snow surrounded the paradise, wrapping around it and joined together by a massive golden gate.

"You have given too much, child," Hera said, holding the small loop of the golden lasso in her hand. She stepped closer to Diana until their shoulders touched, then reached for her hand. The lasso rested between their entwined fingers, glowing softly now.

On Diana's right, Zeus stepped out of the loop she'd trapped him in. Diana wondered if she should stop him, but it didn't seem important now. He wrapped a loop around his hand, and held on.

"Diana," he said, dropping his other arm over her shoulders. "My daughter. Your mortal is terrifying the rest of the pantheon right now."

Diana smiled, amused. Hera's hand was warm and soft in her own; Zeus's arm resting on her shoulder was a comforting weight. All three of them entwined in the lasso of truth where Diana's own magic pulsed... And she remembered her mission.

"Great Father. Queen Mother. Is this a dream?"

The lasso compelled truth, but Zeus was king of the gods. He gave only half. "Of a kind," he said, eying the heavenly land in the distance.

"Then, please, take my hand," Diana quietly urged, opening her free hand to him; the lasso rested there, waiting. "I give it to you as a gesture of friendship and love, and of faith freely given. I give you my hand and welcome you into my *dream."

With an indulgent look, the King of the gods took his daughter's hand into his own.

"It's my dream!" Diana declared with a fierce grin. And her power fed the golden perfect, wrapping the three of them. And then, Diana stepped back, forcing the king and queen to face each other. She still gripped their hands.

"Let me show you the truth," she whispered, and it flooded them. Hera's eyes filled as her grief, hurt, and anger at Zeus' centuries of philandering came to the surface. Zeus paled, and his gnawing insecurity and shame filled their minds. Diana broke down mental barriers until their consciousnesses joined entirely and memories began to flood them.

Zeus, secretly courting Hera and feeling heartbroken when she spurned his advances. Hera's terrified thrill as she resisted, hoping for an honorable marriage. Zeus watching Hera tend to her gardens, feeding the birds... Zeus transforming himself into a rain-soaked cuckoo, and then, Hera's delight in seeing the bird and caring for him, letting him warm and dry in the shelter of her breast... knowing it was Zeus and thrilling when he transformed back into herself and seduced her... the slow heartbreak as she realized he was not faithful, and Zeus's shame and sadness as she spiraled away from the tender girl he'd loved into a vindictive woman who ruthlessly hunted down his lovers and children to punish them.

Memories of the affection from long ago, the angry love-making, the desperation that chilled into resignation... it all poured from the lasso into the rulers of the Pantheon. Diana let her tears fall openly as she guided them to the truth.

"I only wanted to be enough," Hera whispered, wiping a tear away with the tip of her finger.

"I knew I never could be," was Zeus's hoarse reply. And with his free hand, he reached for his wife. She hesitated, but Diana's magic reminded her that she was the goddess of marriage and her eternal longing had always been for this moment.

Hera slipped her hand into her husband's.

"Forgive me," Zeus whispered, kissing her hand. A tear landed on her knuckles.

"I will try," Hera said, for she was bound to tell the truth.

For the first time in many centuries, the King and Queen of the Olympians leaned into each other, embracing as well as they could without letting go of Diana's hands. For that one moment, hope rested between them.

Then, the two were suddenly overwhelmed as Diana's emotions flooded into them. The Amazonian princess showed them her pride and gratitude at their reunion, then bared the truth of her deep loneliness, her longing for Themyscira, the deep sadness she'd felt in the face of Hera's wrath, her cautious desire to please Zeus, her memories of the oracle's prophecy, her love for Bruce, her heart's hope that the Olympians could be like family to her. Then, lastly, Diana revealed the secret heavy fear sitting in her gut, the one that kept her rolling and awake at night, the one that whispered in her ears that she would never be able to fill the gap left by Superman's death. She would fail. Earth would fall. Diana showed them everything.

"My child," Hera breathed, squeezing Diana's hand. She released Zeus and pulled Diana into a tender embrace. Zeus still held his daughter's hand, and brought it to the side of his face, shuddering as the weight of her emotions settled on him.

"Diana," he murmured to her, like the slow rumbling of far away thunder. "I didn't know; I was so proud, so eager to show you off and make them all revel in your glory. I was selfish."

"You never fell out of my favor, child," Hera promised, "My anger was directed at your father, my jealousy directed at your mother. All along I planned my revenge, and you were the one who suffered. I was cruel."

Diana let loose a long sigh, feeling the weight of her secret fears and hopes lift from her shoulders. A tired peace suffused her body, and the light of the lasso gently faded. Silently, she looped it back and settled it on her hip once more.

"Thank you," she said finally, "for seeing my truth. And the truth inside each other."

Zeus and Hera still held hands, regarding each other.

"Let there be peace between you," Diana urged. "At least for a time. I have a different war to prepare for."

Zeus nodded, letting his eyes drift back to the land of paradise ahead of them, where life bloomed behind the golden gate. The sounds of rushing water and laughter and birdsong just barely whispered against their ears. Zeus shifted so he blocked Diana's view of it, even gently turned her the other direction. She looked up at him, the question in her eyes.

"It is not yet your time, my daughter. The Elysian Fields will welcome you another day."

Diana's mouth opened, and she tried to peer around Zeus, but he was immovable.

"Even now," Hera chided, "Apollo tends your body while your mortal shouts at him and anyone else who dares come close. We will send you back safely; these lands will welcome you when it is time."

Diana shifted her gaze to Hera, a thousand questions sitting in a lump at the back of her throat. "Antiope and Steve," she breathed. "Are they happy?"

Hera smiled. "They will be happier when we take you from here. Do not look back, daughter of my heart. Have faith. Make peace in the human world; save some for yourself. We will help you when we can. All of us." Zeus hummed in agreement.

Diana closed her eyes. She breathed.

"Your belief has given us the tiniest return of our divine power," Zeus said, glancing at Hera. She nodded slowly.

"Yes. Together, we will spend it by granting you a small wish."

Diana's head jerked up and she did not even have to think before the answer burst from her lips. "My mother... my home. May I return?"

The king and queen shared a sad glance, something silent passing between them.

Hera spoke, pulling Diana into a final embrace. "A small gift for you," she whispered, kissing her cheek. Zeus embraced them both and said, "Yes. There is power in dreaming."

A gentle white light covered everything. When it faded, Diana found herself in a familiar room, with gentle gold arches and the barest hint of sunrise through the silk drapes. There, in the canopied bed, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, curled on her side in sleep.

"Mother!" Diana's awe made her whisper loud, and Hippolyta jerked upright, pulling a knife from under her pillow. The queen's jaw dropped open.

"Diana?" The knife clattered to the stone floor. Hippolyta stood slowly, blinking a few times. "Diana, you are glowing. I can nearly see through you. Is this... Is this a dream?"

Diana looked down, saw that her arms were translucent, realized that she couldn't feel her feet on the floor or the air on her skin. She smiled sadly. "Of course, Mother," she said. "But that does not make it any less real."

Hippolyta covered the distance to her in a blink, reaching for Diana's hands. Diana tried to offer them, curling her glowing fingers around them.

"I can almost feel you, my sun and stars," Hippolyta whispered through her tears. "If it was my dream, I'd be able to take you in my arms again."

"Then perhaps it is my dream, Mother, because if I was truly here, I might not be able to leave again." They embraced, as best they could. Diana felt a tingle of warmth where her mother's skin would have touched her own.

"Are you well?" Hippolyta demanded after she pulled back. "I'll be very angry if you are a spectre sent to haunt me, especially when Menalippe miraculously returned and told tales of your might."

Diana laughed. "Dear Menalippe! How glad I am to hear news of my beloved Aunt. Yes, I am well, but I am led to believe that it was a near thing." She sobered, rushing into the rest so the queen could ask no questions. "Mother. After Menalippe left me, I met Zeus. I met the entire Pantheon. They live, all of them. Ares is trapped in Tartarus, but the rest are mostly without power in the Olympic realm. Tell all my sisters, Mother, that the gods live. Tell them to pray to Hestia again, and one day, perhaps I may be able to return home."

"I vow it will be so!" Hippolyta promised. Then, the color drained from her face, matching the white gown draped over her skin. Realization hit the queen of the Amazons like a kick in the gut. "Diana," she breathed. "You met Zeus."

Solemnly, her daughter nodded. "I know the truth, my queen. Perhaps one day you can tell me the entire story of my birth. But I do not want our last words for another one hundred years or more to be spoken in anger."

"Ah, Diana." Hippolyta tried her best to lay her hand on Diana's cheek. "Perhaps I was the one who did not deserve you."

Diana felt a tug in her mind, and she knew time was running out. "Mother!" she said urgently. "I love you. Never doubt it. Our time runs short, but I bring a warning too- something else is coming! My allies and I, we fear for an invasion. Be on your guard."

Hippolyta gave the traditional salute to her daughter, placing a fist over her heart and bowing low. "We will be ready," the queen said. "Keep an eye to the old warning fire in the shrine the men built for us, years ago."

"The fire has not been lit in centuries. They will not know what it means."

"You'll know," Hippolyta replied. She tried to kiss her daughter's forehead. "I love you."

Diana faded away, leaving only the light of dawn in the Queen's chambers. Hippolyta stood still, dreading to lose the moment but hearing the stirring of the Amazons in the palace and the waking birds outside.

"Take care, my sun and stars," she whispered. From behind her, fabric rustled. Menalippe sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What is it, Hippolyta? Come back to bed, the hour is ungodly."

Hippolyta laughed. "No, my dear. Quite the opposite." The Queen of the Amazons burrowed back into the blankets, closing her eyes as Menalippe's arms settled around her. She wondered what Menalippe had learned among the gods. The woman had appeared in thin air in the middle of training, shouting news of Diana through her tears. And that night, she'd brazenly seduced Hippolyta with meticulous fervor. Did she know, Hippolyta wondered, about the truth of Diana's birth?

The general's eyes, now sporting the tiny wrinkles she'd earned in Man's World, popped back open and narrowed at Hippolyta. "I can practically hear you thinking over there, your grace." With a long-suffering sigh, Menalippe let her hand wander up to Hippolyta's breast, teasing and tender. "Allow me to distract you."

The queen granted this request with magnanimity.

XXX

Diana woke to the feel of sunlight on her face. The last vestiges of her Themysciran dream slipped away as she stretched her body and then let it flop back into the bed. Egyptian cotton sheets caressed her skin; from outside, she could make out the sound of a lawnmower and the distant hum of passing cars.

She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings, lips parting in surprise. She was lying in a king-size mahogany bed draped in cream and gold linens. The walls of the suite, painted a pale blue, displayed authentic art and artifacts from ancient Greece; she recognized her own uniform, lasso, sword,and shield resting on custom mounts, and a painted vase displayed on an end table that looked suspiciously Themysciran. A balcony sat to her left, flirting with branches of nearby trees; the a hint of sparkle from what appeared to be a massive bathroom. The closed doors of what must be a room-sized walk-in closet.

Diana sniffed, suddenly aware that she smelled the sharp and sweet smell of incense, breathing it in with a deep pleasure. But from where? A glance around found that there, in the corner of the room where the sunlight made it sparkle, a shrine had been built into the wall.

She stood, sliding into the sumptuous robe and slippers that rested at the end of the bed, walked over to inspect it. Her breath caught; it was a shrine to Hestia, goddess of home. A soft pink candle danced at the base of a golden sculpture of a smiling Hestia, holding a bowl over her head. In the bowl, incense burned over charcoal. And there, Diana saw, mounted over the sculpture, was the golden laurel crown Hestia had given her. The same one that Bruce had gently taken from her hair the night they'd made love in Hestia's gardens. She grinned; of course he'd stolen it. Probably proof to remind himself that the entire thing had actually happened!

As reality started to break through her sleepy haze, Diana realized she had to be at Wayne Manor. But.. this room...

"I am jealous," came a voice behind her. Diana whirled, then dropped to her knees. In the chez lounge next to the bed, Pallas Athena was stretched out and lounging, armor, red-plumed helmet, and all. She shimmered in that surreal way that gave away her divinity. "Your mortal didn't build a shrine to me," Athena said, a smile softening the words.

Bruce, Diana realized. Bruce did all of this. She wrestled her mind back to present before it could melt into a puddle of mush.

"My lady Athena," Diana ventured, "my entire life is tribute to your gifts."

Athena's laughter was not musical but guttural and free. "Of course it is! At ease, Diana. You've come back from near death after all, from the very gates of Elysian. Nearly gave away all that tribute to stop Zeus and Hera from destroying each other. Apollo is insufferably proud of himself for single-handedly bringing you back, as he tells it. My father tells it differently. And your mortal did something with some machines and then pounded on your chest. That part seemed important too. All of them have been watching over you."

Diana eased back under the covers and sad up in the bed, propping up pillows to support her back. "I am grateful to everyone who had a hand in helping me to return to life. I have many battles left to fight."

Athena grinned, showing her teeth. "Yes you do. I heard you call on me when you were up in Hera's storm; I gave you what power I could."

Diana relaxed her neck, letting her head rest against the headboard. "Yes, I remember... that explains how I was able to clear the skies and draw so much magic from the lasso."

"I helped some, yes, but Diana, much of that power and magic is your own," Athena swung her legs around to rest her feet on the floor, leaning forward intently. "You must be confident in your own strength and skills. If anything, I hope your journey to Olympus helps you to see yourself more clearly. You are worthy. You can be champion of this world, in the same way you are a champion of Olympus and Themyscira. You can be home here. A warrior needs a place to rest, to belong, people to fight for. You could have it all."

Both of them looked at the shrine to Hestia in the corner.

"May it be as you say," Diana said. Athena nodded, then vanished. Diana closed her eyes, praying earnestly to Hestia to bless this place and everyone in it. That's how Alfred found her.

The butler knocked quietly, pushing a silver cart with his other hand. "Your royal highness?"

Diana opened her eyes and sat up, genuinely pleased to see him. "Alfred!" she cried. "Yes, come in."

"Good morning, Your Highness!" Unusual enthusiasm emanated from the butler as he rolled the cart with the tea things into the room. "I heard you speaking to whichever mythical guest it was this time, and I had to see that you were awake with my own eyes. It does an old man's heart good to see you well!" He began to pour tea, adding sugar as she preferred. "Shall we go through the usual? Where are you, what happened, so on, so forth?" As he spoke, he laid a tray over her lap and offered her a cup and saucer.

"Certainly," she agreed. She accepted a plate of fruit and cheese and sipped her tea. And for the first time, she noticed the scars. Her hands, front and back, forearms, and her entire left bicep and shoulder wore the intricate patterned scar left behind by Zeus's lightning. She was so arrested by the sight, she almost missed Alfred's recitation. She pulled herself back into the present.

"Well, how shall I condense it... Master Bruce brought you in on the Javelin; at that point Dr. Leslie Thompkins and I were waiting with all manner of medical equipment on standby since he'd called and raised the alarm for us to prepare for your arrival. In his telling, you were in the midst of your battle and collapsed. Once Master Bruce caught you out of the sky, he restarted your heart. Despite all of the fuss, once you arrived here, you appeared completely stable. Dr. Thompkins tended your burns and made you comfortable. We let you sleep and monitored you." He cleared his throat, and the exhaustion crept into his eyes. He rubbed them. "It's been nearly a week, my dear. Nearly 9am on the sixth day since he brought you home. And a bloody long week, if you'll excuse me, Your Highness. Magical comas are unsettling to say the least. You appeared completely stable, yet you did not wake."

"Oh Alfred. What an ordeal. Thank you for your care, but please, sit now. Be at peace."

Surprising her, he acquiesced, breathing a thank you. The butler settled onto the edge of the chez lounge, back straight.

One sits if royalty requests one to sit, Alfred thought to himself. Especially when they've just returned from the edge of the grave. After a beat of silence, Alfred noticed her preoccupation with the burns on her hands. "The burns themselves healed at near your normal rate, according to Master Bruce's estimation. But the scars have remained. I'm sorry."

Diana absently waved away his condolences, nibbling on an apple slice she'd painted with goat cheese. "Do not worry, Alfred. These will fade too." The scar from Artemis's arrow was mostly gone already, she noted. "I do not have the luxury of scars. If I did, perhaps the reminders would lead me to be more cautious."

Alfred gave her a small smile, as he knew she wanted. "Scars don't always breed caution," he scoffed, thinking of his surrogate son. "In any case, as I was saying, both Leslie and myself have been monitoring you throughout the week, along with some of your legendary visitors. I'm happy to report that you appear to be completely recovered."

Diana laughed. "Goodness, Alfred. When do you sleep?"

He put his nose in the air and stood, eyes twinkling as he topped off her cup and began to tidy the tea things. "Don't you worry about that, miss; a butler must maintain some mysteries."

From somewhere on the lower level of the Manor, a door slammed. Footsteps pounded fast, getting louder as they came up the steps. Alfred's eyebrows shot up, mischief lighting his face and taking ten years from his eyes. "If you'll please excuse me, Your Highness. Do ring if you need anything at all."

Alfred barely made it through the doorway with the cart before Bruce came sprinting around the corner, neatly hopping to dodge the cart and his butler to land just inside Diana's room. The two men locked eyes for a moment, and something passed between them that Diana did not understand yet found extremely funny. She pretended to dab her lips with a linen napkin to hide her amusement.

"Master Bruce." Alfred's tone implied censure but it was clear he was smiling around the words. "Do try to maintain some decorum." And with that, Alfred pushed his cart out like nothing strange had happened and vanished around the hall.

Bruce shut Diana's door, then locked it, sending her eyebrows and her pulse shooting up. He turned to stare at her, looking rumpled in a black t shirt and grey sweats. Silence stretched a beat too long before he broke it.

"You're eating apples and cheese," he accused. "And drinking tea."

Diana smiled. "Yes." She gestured to her tray, to the empty space in the bed. "Would you like some?"

He moved toward the bed quietly now, his eyes intent on hers. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed, facing her. He drank her in with desperate focus, cataloging everything he saw, every sign of her health. Slowly, as if she might vanish before his eyes, he reached for her scarred hand. She offered it, squeezing tight. He traced the white lines that the lightning left on her palm, her hand, her arm. Diana shivered; she wasn't cold.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

She told him, starting from the moment she'd opened her eyes on the outskirts of the Elysian fields. She took him through ehr encounter with Zeus and Hera, their tearful truce, and then, the dream she'd had of seeing her mother. "It was my dream," Diana said, "But she was awake. Menalippe arrived safely. Hestia's pathway to Themyscira works."

Both of their eyes drifted over to the shrine to Hestia. Diana breathed a quiet prayer in Greek. One day. "Thank you, Bruce. It's beautiful."

He nodded but said nothing. His gaze was so intent, Diana wanted to squirm. Instead, she told him about waking up and talking to Athena, then asked, "What happened on your end?"

Bruce leaned forward as he answered. "You had them both in the lasso, it blinded us all, and then in an instant, the light died. Zeus and Hera vanished, and you were falling. Hermes was completely shocked, so I caught you."

Diana, unaware of doing it, traced gentle circles on top of Bruce's hand with her thumb; she could have no idea how distract he found it and how desperate he was for her not to stop.

"Thank you," she said.

"He and I took you back to the dais. I may have screamed at some deities. I med-scanned you and your heart went into a strange rhythm. Apollo started singing, and I gave you compressions. We got it back. He kept singing, they all did, until your color returned. Then, you were just... out. Sleeping. Magical coma. I ordered Hermes to us back to the Javelin, and I brought you back here. The rest is like Alfred said. He and Leslie did all kinds of scans, but you were completely stable. Steady heartbeat; breathing on your own. Your burns healed. The wound from the arrow healed and the scar is nearly gone. Apollo even told us not to worry about artificial hydration and nutrition, that you would not need that kind of intervention for some time. You just slept."

He said it all with a ruthless lack of emotion in his voice; his eyes told a different story.

"I'm sorry, Bruce."

"Diana," he said. "I called one of my allies, Zatanna. She knows magic. I asked her if you needed a kiss or something."

She managed to hold it in for a beat, but the giggle burst out of her. His face was stone.

"And did I?" she wondered.

"Of course not. It was ridiculous. Zatanna told me you didn't need a kiss, so I didn't assault you."

Now the smile was impossible for her to contain, filling her entire face. "Thank you." She squeezed his hands; she considered pointing out that she was awake and very willing now, but he kept going, hopping off the bed in his agitation.

"You slept through her visit," he said, pacing. "You slept through all of it. All the scans, the tests, all our attempts to wake you. Hell, I built that entire shrine and redecorated this suite while you slept. I took the whole week off from Wayne Enterprises, and I did it all. I even painted it this blue. Apollo said fumes wouldn't affect you. And every time I took a drill or a hammer to this wall, I hoped it would wake you up. Alfred was horrified, said it was the most brutish, inconsiderate behavior he had ever seen, and he was ashamed of me."

Diana pressed her lips together, forcing the laugh back. "I didn't hear a thing," she promised. He grunted, resumed his pacing.

"Bruce." Comedy aside, the weight of what he had done was sinking in, stunning her.

Diana's suddenly quiet tone jerked him out of his agitation. He stopped and sat on the bed and faced her again. She took his hands in her own. "Bruce, this room, the shrine... it's beautiful."

He kissed her knuckles, squeezing her hands so tightly for an instant that it nearly hurt. "It was my mother's favorite guest room, where she would house her honored guests and dearest friends. She would have loved you."

Diana swallowed, working at the emotion that was gathering in her throat and chest. "But why?" she whispered. "You didn't have to change anything. But you did all this... you built a shrine to Hestia! And how you managed to get a real Themysciran vase, I have no idea. Why would you do all this?"

Bruce took her hands, let them rest on his chest. She felt how rapidly his heart was beating; in his eyes, he let her see the raw warring emotions, fear and hope.

"Now that your mission on Olympus is over," he said, "we can go back to searching for the metas. Trying to form a team, for when the next threat comes. And you said you would leave Paris soon, maybe relocate to New York. But I wanted..." Bruce took a deep slow breath, glancing at the statue of Hestia before meeting Diana's eyes again. The words were difficult to release because of how much fear and how much hope they carried.

"I wanted you to know that... whenever you want... you can always have a home here."

Overwhelmed, Diana took a moment to carefully take her breakfast tray, minding what was left of her cold tea, and walk it over to the desk, setting it down carefully and returning to the bed. Bruce watched her every movement without blinking, his heart in his eyes.

When she was settled in the bed again, she reached for him, gently framing his face with her hands. She let a single tear drop from her eyes, unhindered. He longed to wipe it away with his fingertip, but he dared not move. Her eyes held him still.

"Thank you, Bruce Wayne," she whispered, first in English, then in Greek. "Thank you." And she pulled him in for a tender kiss, still crying. For a moment, they held each other, soft and full of unspoken things.

Then, the fire between them reawakened and she gripped him tighter, ravaging his mouth. He met her desire with his own, and Diana sucked in a surprised breath in through her nose when Bruce pulled away to jerk away her robe and pull her nightgown over her head. "I was going to do this better," he growled. "Slower."

Invigorated to the point of desperation, Diana took hold of Bruce's t-shirt collar and ripped the shirt in half like paper, tossing each half off to the side. "Why?" she panted, pouncing as soon as he'd shed his sweats, covering his neck with kisses and gasping as his hands roamed her body.

"To maintain some decorum," he said, affecting Alfred's accent. She laughed, letting him roll her onto her back and claim her mouth. She fought back, letting her nails dig into his back as he worked magic with his fingers to make her gasp his name. Frantic to feel him, Diana took the hard length of him in her hand, tugging and teasing until she heard him groan.

"I've had enough decorum," Diana growled, pulling him back down to nip at his jaw. Bruce grinned. "Yes, Your Highness," he said.

And what followed was not decorous, but frantic and sweaty, hard and fast. Bruce was a relentless lover, and Diana, eager to be pleased. When the first waves of pleasure crashed over her, Diana let herself breathe for a moment before chasing Bruce's own release with ruthless dedication. He thrilled at her strength and the rush he felt knowing that all of her power was his to control, just for this moment, because she would stop the instant he asked her to. (He never did.) In turn, Diana delighted in letting Bruce dominate her for a time before she took the control back and drove him over the edge with the firm strokes of her hips. She grinned in pure triumph when his nails dug into her thighs and the tension bled from his body. They both collapsed.

As they lay in the bed panting, Diana's exhausted grief and Bruce's fear for her dissipated away, replaced by a comfortable contentment.

They lay, still entangled with the sheets and each other, gazing at the ceiling.

Diana, still panting, breathed something in Greek that Bruce didn't understand.

"Exactly, fuck decorum," he said.

She laughed. "I was reminding myself that I have to eventually return to Paris. At least for a time."

Bruce said, "I'll take you there. I have to return the Javelin to the Paris office anyway."

"Eager to get rid of me?"

"The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get your affairs in order and come back," he said. She smiled at his frankness, resting her head on his shoulder. "Besides, I have a lead on the speedster," Bruce continued.

Remembering her mission sobered Diana; she propped herself up on one arm, looked down into Bruce's eyes. "Bruce," she said. "I do not know if I can catch an asteroid, like Clark."

Bruce sat up too, taking her arms in his hands and squeezing gently. "That is why we will build the team, Diana. Whatever happens, you won't have to do it alone." He kissed her cheek and stood, walking towards the bathroom. She heard the water turn on, then he poked his head back out.

"Diana?"

She sat up, holding the sheets at her chest. "Yes?"

Bruce grinned, all boyish charm.

"Welcome home."

XXXX

THE END

*Credit to Wonder Woman #167 for the dream quote, which fit perfectly into this story, which acts my tribute to Wonder Woman of the comics, the DCAU, and the recent films. :)

Thank you friends, for joining me in this journey with Diana and Bruce! I feel sure it won't be our last together. I hope you enjoyed yourself! Please leave a review. :-) See you in the sequel, New York is a Woman!

-rosa