A/N: Thank you to all the people who reviewed last time, it's really helping to keep the creative juices flowing! Here's the next chapter, and it's mostly BMWW, though there is a little deviation – but not much!

Chapter Ten – Blindsided

It was cold here. Of course, she'd expected that, what with the Fortress being in the Arctic and all, but hadn't expected the particular quality of the cold. It wasn't the sharp, stabbing pain of being plunged into a icy lake – this was a pleasant kind of cool, a balm to soothe a headache. Good job too, since Diana's costume didn't exactly cover much – not that she felt the cold, but it still affected certain parts of her anatomy in a rather embarrassing way.

They spent the first couple of hours in the Fortress of Solitude in an odd quiet. Neither of them said much after Bruce had ascertained that she was alright now, but they had watched each other almost constantly. For her part, Diana was feeling a little embarrassed. She was Princess of Themyscira – ever since she could remember, it had been drummed into her to maintain a state of regal dignity at all times. Now she was falling to pieces and crying all over the place. Generally being as undignified as possible. As well as flinging herself – quite literally – onto a man. She couldn't, of course, know what was going on in Bruce's head, but he watched her as if she would burst into flame at any time, or was carrying a bomb behind her back. She supposed that her sudden change from gibbering wreck to composed Princess was a little much for him to accept quickly, and that he was probably concerned (and trying not to show it) about her welfare. As well as – if she knew Bruce – feeling guilty about no longer being an effective buffer for her around people. She had no idea what he could have done to prevent that, and probably neither did he, but Bruce was good at feeling guilty.

She shifted slightly in her seat at flicked her gaze back up to Bruce's blank white one. "So why here?" she asked.

"I told you," he said. "It was – is – the safest place on Earth for you."

"But what about Gotham-"

He held a hand up. "Diana, please don't insult us both by assuming I'm going to fall for that again."

She coloured slightly with a light pink hue he found adorable against his better judgment. "I wasn't trying to trick you, Bruce, you know I'd never-"

"I know, Princess," he assured her, turning his face slightly so that she wouldn't see the corner of his mouth curling up.

"Then why do you insist on winding me up?" she snapped.

He blinked at her tone, but reflected that seeing her angry was a nice change to seeing her helpless. He knew she was probably more angry with herself than anyone. "I sent Hawkgirl to Themyscira," he told her eventually, having already briefed her on what they knew so far.

She looked up. "Why?"

"Because Skatha was banished for cursing a Greek hero. Shayera contacted your mother to see if she knew anything. I told her to speak to your gods to get answers if Hippolyta didn't."

She looked utterly stunned. "You- You told her to demand an audience with the gods?" she whispered.

Batman didn't fidget, but would have been doing so if he could. "Yes," he answered simply.

Diana's mouth dropped open, and she gawked at him silently for a few moments before giving a tiny laugh. It was followed by another, and another, all totally incredulous. "You are…the most arrogant, most irreverent, most impertinent, most…audacious man I have ever met!" she finally cried, getting up.

He blinked. "Diana, I-"

Diana overrode him, now pacing. "You simply order Hawkgirl to Themyscira, in order to order my mother to order the gods to give you information…" She paused and took another deep breath, Bruce assuming she was preparing another tirade. He was wrong. When she spoke again, her voice was much quieter, and her expression much softer. "…just so you could help me," she finished.

Feeling suddenly blindsided – not a feeling he was familiar or comfortable with – Bruce wondered how he'd not seen the discussion taking this turn. And how to get out of it. Old tricks are the best. "I would have done the same for anyone, you know that."

"Would you?" she questioned. "Would you have put Gotham on hold for just anyone?"

"Diana-"

She sighed. "I don't want to have this same discussion, Bruce, but…" They knew each other well enough so that each could see where she was going with this. She trailed off, knowing that his mind would be making her argument for her.

This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this for her. Risking his identity (at least with her) to rescue her in a ballroom full of strangers in Paris. Risking his life to help her storm the palace in Kasnia, and then doing it again the same night to release her from a cell. Risking his reputation to sing for her life. And now, the most telling thing of all…risking his city to protect her sanity. Deep inside his psyche, the Bat shook its head and heaved a sigh. He was sunk.

Thankfully, before he could – for what would have been the first time in over twenty years – utter the word 'um', Diana changed the subject.

"I don't suppose you know where Superman's kitchen might be? I'm kind of hungry," she confessed. Thinking about it, she hadn't actually eaten in over thirty six hours.

"I have no idea," he said. "Though not far away would be my guess."

"I'll have a look," she said quickly, lifting into the air and gracefully flying away.

Ten minutes later, she came back bearing two plates, both with sandwiches on them. "Kal has quite a lot of food back there considering he's either at the Watchtower or with Lois most of the time," she commented. She handed Bruce one of the plates with a smile. "Cheese, tuna and olives. With extra pickles. Though I have to say I do not understand how anyone-"

"How do you know my favourite sandwich?" he asked abruptly.

She cast him a sly look. "I learnt how to cook from Alfred," she reminded him. "I basically know all your favourite meals."

He raised an eyebrow. "I see." Pushing his cowl back, he took a large bite while Diana watched in mild disgust.

"Though how you can eat that…" she trailed off with a grimace.

"What? Cheese, tuna and pickles?" Another bite, and a grin. It faded as he carried on. "Alfred used to make it for me when I had nightmares as a kid."

She frowned, opened her mouth to ask more, but then decided against it. Something that intimate wouldn't be shared until Bruce wanted to share it. Which was likely to be never. "Well it still looks revolting," she said firmly.

"Well what have you got?"

"Chicken salad."

"Original," he said dryly.

"I believe there is a saying in Man's World," she replied. "Something to the effect of 'if the arrows are straight, there is no need to replace the quiver'?" At his look, she shrugged. "It loses something in translation."

"You mean 'if it isn't broken, don't fix it'," he told her.

She nodded and took another bite, almost all her sandwich gone now. Another thing he liked – eating with any other woman, well…the models didn't eat, and the rest took tiny, dainty little nibbles of their food that made Bruce wonder why he was bothering to pay for dinner at all. Diana just ate with a vitality that was refreshing to see. Within another ten seconds, it was gone completely, and she sat licking her fingertips in contentment. Suddenly Bruce's enjoyment of his own food vanished. He swallowed without tasting, throat dry.

Without change of expression, Diana suddenly began laughing. "What?" he asked, thinking that perhaps she was picking up someone else's emotion, even from here. If she was then they had a serious problem. Where could they go? Another planet, perhaps, but-

"It just hit me," she giggled. "I'm sitting on a couch with Batman – eating a sandwich!"

She sounded slightly hysterical, not that he could blame her. It was all a little surreal, a fact he acknowledged with a slight half-smile.

"It's just so…domestic," she said.

He narrowed his eyes. "I think that was an insult."

Diana went back to the kitchen to get another sandwich, and they ate in comfortable silence for a while before she spoke again. "Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"What are we supposed to do? For…however long we're here, I mean? It's not like we can go on missions, and I haven't seen a TV anywhere…In fact, what does Clark do when he's here? He has to entertain himself somehow surely."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Boy scout probably just makes papier-mâché models of Lois all the time," he replied.

Diana tried and failed to suppress a smile. "Bruce, that's not fair."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"I'm not," she grinned. "Besides, I've never had the opportunity to explore the Fortress properly. You know, when I'm not being ambushed by Mongol."

Bruce's face lost all trace of levity at that, remembering with revulsion and something akin to fear the Black Mercy and its 'gift'. He looked at Diana, seeing her mouth settle into a grim line too. When she managed to pull it off him, in her weakened state she wasn't strong enough to avoid succumbing herself. She wasn't under long; maybe a minute or so, but he knew from bitter experience that was more than enough. He never could explain where the strength to pull the plant from Diana's body came from. Afterward, he only would liken it privately to the adrenalin surge that allowed mothers to lift cars off their children. Past that, he refused to think about the implications. He'd never told her what he saw, and neither had she asked. Clark had given them the bare minimum of his fantasy. Diana neglected to tell Superman that the Black Mercy had even latched onto her, and she'd never told Bruce what she saw.

Putting her plate aside, Diana wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly in a manner that had nothing to do with the cold. "You done?" she asked quickly. "I want to have a look at the biome." (A/N: I'm going on The Man Who Has Everything here, it looked like a big greenhouse to me. Similar to the Eden Project. Google it.)

---

"You fixed 'em yet?"

The pretty mechanic Flash was trying to flirt with gave an audible sigh and turned around, pushing her hair from her face. "Not yet, it's still playing up."

"Come on, take a break," he urged. "Brought you a mocha," he said, pulling it out from behind his back.

"Well…I suppose I could take a quick one," she said.

"Great!"

"But I don't drink coffee," she smiled. "And nature calls, excuse me." Before he could utter another word, she sauntered past him with a kind of sensual grace that Flash had only seen before in Diana. Diana, unfortunately was like a sister to him. He had no such qualms about ogling the mechanic.

"Never gonna happen," John's voice commented from behind him.

"What?" Wally asked, spinning around. "Why not?"

"Way out of your league," his best friend grinned.

"Hey, I'm a superhero!"

"Not what I mean," GL said. "She's not interested, man. Leave it."

Flash pouted. "You don't know that."

Lantern raised an eyebrow. "Give it up, buddy. I'll take that mocha, though."

---

Being a goddess was boring. That was the answer Eris would give whenever (and she had been several times over the millennia) she was asked why the gods interfered in the lives of mortals so much for their own amusement. It was just boring. Eternity with nothing to do on Olympus, or in the Underworld. Except fiddle with inferior minds. In Eris's opinion, she was the best of the gods – at least she was honest about her reasons. All these so-called benevolent goddesses – Hera, Aphrodite, Artemis – they all liked to pretend themselves so mighty, so pure of heart. As if Aphrodite hadn't been responsible for the fall of Troy. As if Artemis hadn't had Actaeon ripped apart by his own dogs. And as for Hera – the worst of all of them, Queen of the gods or not! Eris had never forgiven her for banishing her twin.

All Eris did was openly cause discord instead of covering it up with another, prettier name.

And now here they were, trying to threaten her! Thankfully, Hera and Aphrodite had brought Athena with them. To say she and Athena liked one another would be too much of an overstatement, but being the goddess of war, Athena couldn't totally despise her. Eris would at least be able to have a conversation, rather than simply being forced into whatever it was.

"Sisters," she greeted with a cold smile.

"Eris," Hera began, "you will locate your sister."

She drew back, shocked. "Skatha was imprisoned by your hand, Hera," she hissed. "You alone would know where to find her cell!"

The queen of the gods narrowed her eyes, taking another step forward and drawing herself up to her full height. "Her banishment was well deserved," she replied harshly. "After what she did to-"

"And you yourself have never cursed mortals, have you, Great Hera?"

"Enough," Athena said. "None of this is helping-"

"Where is Skatha?" Hera demanded. "Only you know how to find her."

"What do I get in exchange?" Eris asked. She wasn't about to betray her twin without proper compensation.

"What do you want?" Aphrodite returned.

"Twenty four hours free rein on Earth," she said. "Without interference from the rest of you."

"Out of the question," Athena began. "With twenty four hours you could do irreparable damage to the world. We cannot-"

Hera held up a hand. "Twelve. On the condition that-"

"None of your precious Amazons will be harmed," Eris sneered.

"Then you have your free rein. After you bring Skatha before us."

Eris nodded, an incredibly pleased smile on her face. "Done. I'll find Skatha for you – but I cannot guarantee her cooperation."

"I can," Athena growled.

---

Entering the biome was a little unsettling; it was incredibly hot and humid in there compared to the cool, dry atmosphere of the rest of the Fortress, the floral scent of the plants in there hitting her nose in a pleasant assault. Some she recognised, but most she didn't, making her exploration of the garden all the more fascinating. She knew Bruce was close by, but he wasn't at her side right now. She felt a little in conflict about that – the pain was worse when he wasn't at her side, and she knew being alone with him like this was a golden opportunity that she wasn't likely to get again. But knowing that, it was difficult to capitalise on it. She wasn't exactly experienced at seduction – and knew that he'd probably go completely cold toward her if she tried. But by the same token, it was nice to have a little time to herself.

She reached out to touch the slightly bumpy leaves of the nearest plant. It was incredibly soft; like running her fingers over velvet. She pulled her hand back just in time – the previously benign looking plant coiled backward and struck at her fingers with teeth that had definitely not been there before.

"Whoa!" she said quietly. Ok, now she was glad that Bruce wasn't with her. Mental note. Don't touch anything.

By the time she'd finished looking around the potentially dangerous plants, and gone to find Bruce again, it was late, and Diana was tired. She found him, unsurprisingly, in the Hall of Weapons, no doubt worrying himself silly over the amount of dangerous equipment Superman would have access to if he ever decided to go rogue. She stopped at the entrance, leaning against the doorway. Sure enough, Bruce was crouched over a plasma disruptor, examining it closely with a frown on his face. "You know he's strong enough to not need them, don't you?" she asked.

"I know that," he replied shortly.

"Yet here you are anyway," she commented lightly.

"You think I'm being paranoid." He flipped open a flap on the barrel to have a look at the wiring inside.

"You're always paranoid, Bruce. It's part of your charm."

"In my experience, it's paranoid people who stay alive the longest," he pointed out.

"Well I've done ok so far," she smiled.

He looked up at her finally. "Anything in particular you wanted, Diana?"

You. Swallowing that, she shook her head. "I just thought I'd let you know I'm going to bed. It's late."

He checked the time, a little surprised to see it was two am, but not feeling all that fatigued. It wasn't surprising – it was at least five before he got to sleep most nights. He nodded. "Alright," he said, turning back to the weapon in his hands.

She hesitated slightly, but didn't say anything further than: "Goodnight, Bruce." She turned and left, his cobalt eyes tracking her form out of the room.

"Sleep well, Princess."

He didn't think she'd hear him, but she turned her head slightly, smiling. She hoped he wouldn't notice the fact that her face was heating, but increased her pace a little. By the time she located the Fortress's only bedroom, she was almost dead on her feet. Removing her breastplate, bracelets, tiara, lasso and boots, Diana slipped under the covers, falling asleep praying that she wouldn't get nightmares tonight.

When, three hours later, Bruce decided to give into the sleep demon, he quickly checked in on Diana, relieved to see that her breathing was steady and even, her face serenely beautiful. She wasn't dreaming. Maybe she'd finally be able to get a good night's sleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he crept out of the room again and stretched out on the couch. The bed was big enough for both of them, but she deserved unbroken sleep. He doubted he'd be as lucky, but fell into slumber swiftly.

---

The alley is dark, and wet, the ground stained with various bodily fluids, none of which bear thinking about too closely. It's not the kind of place anyone wants to be in Gotham after nightfall, but still, there are three of them, and it's the quickest route to the taxi rank. Besides, the family have had a wonderful evening, and all of them are happy, laughing and quoting the movie they've just seen, the child most of all.

"Haha, let all evil-doers beware my-"

A man steps from the shadows, and suddenly the warm, comfortable atmosphere of the night is gone. Some touch of as-yet undiscovered premonition comes forward – something terrible, something irrevocable and horrifying is about to happen, and all three of them are powerless to stop it, caught helplessly in destiny's hands.

The gun isn't shiny, isn't large or impressive. It is what it is – an ugly tool of death. It sparks an immediate revulsion in the child's heart that will remain there, a stain on the soul, forever. The voice that issues from the man is just as ugly.

"We'll start with the pretty pearls around the lady's neck," he says, gesturing with hands that seem abnormally huge, roughened and battered by a life that's made the man ruthless.

The two parents convulsively clutch their child closer, hands reaching down to clutch shoulders slightly bony with youth. Another stab of fear. Parents are supposed to be indestructible, a perpetual presence in a child's life. Now they are all about to find out just how breakable parents are.

The man bares teeth yellow with years of neglect at the terrified family. "Now."

The father makes a sudden grab for the gun, but this criminal is more hardened than others; rather than relinquishing the gun in his shock, he only squeezes the trigger. The bullet seems, to the child at least, to take forever to leave the barrel, and it flies through the air as if forcing its way through gel. Funny, though, since when it hits its victim, he dies in less than a second.

The woman screams; a loud piercing shriek that someone, somewhere must surely have heard. But in this town, you hear a scream, you look the other way. Nevertheless, it makes the criminal panic, and he surges forward like a wave, his clawed fingers reaching out for the delicate string of pearls that hang closely across her throat. She struggles, and the child doesn't hear her scream again, doesn't hear the gun go off a second time. Awareness comes back as it begins raining, droplets of rubies and pearls falling with the water all around.

---

"NO!"

Heart racing, cold sweat drenching the sheets, Diana sat up, convulsing with sobs.

---

A/N: Don't you just wanna give both of them a hug? *sniffs* I do. Review please!