Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League or the episode Comfort and Joy and the characters therein.

Post-Wild Cards, the Justice League has decided who amongst its members will be enjoying the holidays within the confines of the Watchtower, namely Batman and Wonder Woman. She has asked Batman to teach her about the holiday season – mostly about the celebration of Christmas. He has turned her down flat – where (or to whom) will the Princess turn to now?

Chapter 4, Good News

"Close your eyes, fold your hands, for the moment, let your sorrows fade

Why oh, why are you afraid? Has this world stripped you of your faith?

…Good news, good news, an angel brings good news…"

Diana's perspective-

Following my request that Bruce help to teach me about Christmas, I had watched the dawning horror on the usually passive face, immediately realizing that I had said the wrong thing, reminded Bruce of sadder times gone by.

I knew that his life had started off so full of promise and life – only child to affectionate and wealthy parents, loved and happy with the blessings the gods had bestowed upon him. However, I also knew that his story was not one filled with the hope and fruition of that promise, of that sweet boy rising to adulthood. Bruce's parents had been taken from him, murdered before his very eyes, stealing not only his parents, but the laughter and the sweetness that had once been Bruce Wayne.

He had instead grown with retribution and justice lurking in his head, leading him down paths that most humans did not deign to take. Becoming the Batman had been a decision born of the pain of that night and he had used the death of his parents in order to bring new hope, new life to the city that had stolen so much from him in one night.

As much as I realized how hard it was for Bruce to not only revisit the past, but to create happy memories without the family that he had loved so dearly, I had hoped with his steadily growing affection over the last few weeks that such a request on my part would be granted as a boon, not leave him horror stricken and callous.

He had so many strengths – his intelligence, his courage, his determination, but I couldn't say that I hadn't known that he was also a man who lived in fear of his emotions, cowering now because of the one event that had caused him so much pain, so much regret over the years.

I understood that in concept. I understood his resistance to happiness, but things had been going so well between us in recent times that I had taken this bold, yet tentative step forward, hoping to share this holiday season between us, to learn something about why this season made so many people smile. And, I admitted, a small part of me was hoping that I could help bring Bruce out of the misery that plagued him during this time of the year or so I had been told. But I wasn't surprised to find out that Batman was never idle during Christmas time, working more than ever, if anything, whether intent on saving Christmas for others or saving himself from the emotions that beleaguered him.

I had seen the stubborn look crossing his face, and, even knowing that he was going to deny my request, I had tried to explain, to logically reach in and grab Bruce's mind, seeing that his heart wasn't ready for such a time between us. But even this approach had been defeated and I had watched him, knowing that I was going to be rejected, that I wouldn't be able to drag Bruce out of his depressive depths this year, or possibly any other time.

Defeated by the look in his eyes, I had barely heard his brunt refusal, that stark single word: "No." It didn't matter; I had already seen the answer in the stiffness of his body, the stillness that had come over him when I asked him to teach me about the celebration of Christmas. But still, I felt my face fall, sadness infusing it, the tears creeping up to well in my eyes as I heard him not only refuse me, but pass my request onto someone else. It was such a typical Batman reaction from the Bruce that I had come to know – the shunning of emotions and all happiness because of the pain associated with them.

I looked around the cave one last time, the starkness of it finally impinging on my heart and I realized the futility of trying to surround Bruce with holiday spirit and celebration – he was content to wallow in his pity and memories and I wasn't sure of how to pull him from that quagmire, to release the resilient tendrils of fear and loneliness that had crept around his heart. For the first time, I realized what a challenge I had embarked upon, starting a relationship with this arrogant, domineering, stubborn bat of a man who was afraid of his emotions, preferring to lock himself in his lonely cave and hide from the world, from the love and laughter he could have if he only opened his eyes and his heart to it.

Allowing a single tear to trace a sorrowful path down my cheek, I felt my heart shattered and I clenched my fists from the pain of it, determined to see myself out of the Bat-cave and out of his life before I tore him into little pieces for toying with my emotions in this fashion.

Teleporting back to the Watchtower, I strode quickly to my room, looking neither left nor right, finally collapsing on my bed, pounding the pillow into bits of cotton and feathers as I released my anger on the unsuspecting object. Tears clogged my throat, but I refused to give further ground to my emotions.

I was an Amazon, a woman of strength and purpose and warrior spirit. I would not be broken by any man or his actions.

Didn't he realize that he wasn't the only one feeling his way through this relationship? It wasn't as if I had a lot of experience in the field and suddenly, I was dealing with the most challenging and impossible man the gods had put on the face of this Earth, possibly this universe.

Shaking with anger and the force of my emotions, I punched the air in frustration, wanting to howl with frustration. But I also realized that screaming would inevitably drawn the attention of those left in the Watchtower and right now I wasn't fit for company.

I decided that a session in the training room would be a good outlet for my current intensity and rage and I headed out the door, lasso at my side, prepared to beat the droids to oblivion in order to vent. Waking in, I noticed that the area was empty and I immediately set the program to the highest level of combat that I could stand – the highest level that the machine was currently programmed for and prepared for the fight of my life, at least within these walls. The fight for the heart of Bruce Wayne was still a fight that I had yet to win – I would prepare to possibly step back in that ring with time – and a little less anger flooding my system.

Within seconds, droids began to exit the walls of the training room, lasers firing on full, heavily armored and advanced, armed with a myriad of weapons they unleashed in a barrage. Smiling with menace, I strode forward, blocking their lasers with my bracelets and taking out the first droid with relative ease, simply removing his head with one punch from my clenched fists, imagining with some glee that it was Batman's head.

Continuing to block and deflect the oncoming droids, I studied them, noticing the weaknesses in their attacks in a way that would have done the Bat proud – but I was determined not to think about him in my current state, other than seeing his head on the droids I was viciously brutalizing.

Adrenaline rushing through me, I pummeled the droid nearest me with a swift kick of the legs, scissor kicking his abdomen before blowing a hole through his mid-section with my fist. Electricity flew as the droid short-circuited, collapsed to the ground in a spit of sparks and squeaky mechanical groans.

Face tightened in a look of fierce determination, I stared across the room at the last droid that remained standing, at least until the next onslaught of the mechanical men that the program would produce. I never noticed the dark figure standing outside the training room, just beyond the glass panes that separated the room from the Watchtower hallway, practically hidden from view except for the thatch of cape that was visible from the inside of the room.

However, I had too much on my mind, too much anger to vent to notice anyone watching me with their penetrating gaze, observing my vicious treatment of the droids and drawing his own conclusions about the reasons behind my actions. I continued to mercilessly pummel the droids, knocking off heads and spewing mechanical limbs about the room as sweat raced down my brow, dewing my body and heating my pulse.

But still I sustained my pace, working my way, forcing through everything that the program could throw at me, determined to win at least one battle today. The ferocious competitor in me knew that I couldn't batter at a man's heart but for so long, but a program of droids programmed to be able to best me was something that I could batter at, could win at no matter the cost to myself physically or emotionally.

And I was sick of pounding my head against a wall, fighting for both Bruce and myself when he needed to fight for himself. I couldn't make every move in this relationship – some of the steps were ones that he would have to take himself, force himself to move ahead and into my arms or backwards into the isolation of the cave and the utter loneliness that it entailed.

It was no longer my decision – it was out of my hands even if he wasn't out of my heart. A small part of me suspected that Bruce would always have a little piece of my heart, regardless of what happened to us in the future, immediate or further down the road.

Suddenly, the droids stopped coming, halting their advance and collapsing to the floor in a heap of screws and scrap metal and I looked around in confusion, knowing that my program was still running full force. I looked behind me at the programming board and immediately I saw the cause of the cessation of my training – Batman.

Ill-prepared to fight with him right now, knowing that I was tired and that fury was still pumping through my veins, I strode briskly over to the programming console and without a word, pressed the button to restart my session, hoping that he would take the obvious hint and leave before I did bodily damage to him.

The droids snapped to life and I moved towards them, intent on beating them until my rage subsided, but to no avail. Before I had gone more than two steps, the droids again fell to the floor, lifeless and innocuous. I spun around on my heel, my new target the reason that I was currently beating the tar out of these mechanical men – because this one meant too much to beat to death, much as I occasionally desired it, like right now.

I walked over to him, grabbing a fistful of the material just below his collarbone, smack in the middle of his broad shoulders and hauled him to his feet, shoving him against the wall and staring at him with all the menace I could currently muster.

"Diana…" he choked out, gasping with the force that was pressing against him, "I apologize."

My anger immediately deflated and I released my grasp, letting him sink back to his feet. It wasn't often that this man would actually admit to a fault; much less admit that his actions had been mistaken. I stared at him as he wheezed a little, drawing in deep breaths and avoiding my gaze, as if he were still amazed and somewhat embarrassed that he had actually managed to apologize to me, that the words had escaped his lips.

I dropped my arms to my sides, sighing as I turned, striding away, his words echoing in my ears, the impact sending my heart racing, soaring with the magnitude of what he was offering, of the sacrifice he was willing to make in facing his emotions in order to please me, to bring our relationship to yet another level of intimacy. I knew that he hadn't come to this decision lightly and that it a thoughtful choice on his part, designed to work through this little rough patch by working together as we so often had on missions. Now we would bring that same partnership into our relationship as well, working together to achieve what we both wanted – each other. And I couldn't help but smile when he said:

"I will teach you about Christmas. But I want you to teach me about joy."

Next chapter: Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree – the dawning of Christmas Eve with our favorite pair…

Thanks for all the support! Hope you enjoyed this kick-ass side of Diana. I was missing it! I love hearing from all my readers and I appreciate your words of support! Remember – I'm accepting all ideas for Starcrossed (including title and plot ideas) – help!

Thanks for all of you who reviewed last chapter - I love 'em!

On another note – for those of you who are unaware, I will usually try to email people a notice that another chapter has been added to my stories if I know that the alert system is down. If you didn't receive an email, I couldn't find your email on the system, but I tried!

To reviewer Dihcar – I've never really assumed that Ace was able to "turn" the Joker insane at the end of Wild Cards. I think perhaps she was able to alter his perception as well so that he was tortured or so that he truly believed that he was pushed further into insanity. Just my two cents though.

To reviewer didi – Sorry that I didn't make her ask someone else. Originally, I hadn't had the last two chapters before this separated – they'd fight and make up rather quickly. And then the chapter started to get really long and out of control, so I split it. I really didn't think that she'd go to anyone else (and I didn't really give her the time). I kept thinking about how I might react – I'd be really pissed off and I stuck with that feeling. Hope I didn't disappoint you!

To reviewer SarahC – Thanks! Sometimes I feel like I'm writing just to fill in the blanks of the story. Of course, only focusing on this pair leaves a lot of blanks too, but those I'm less concerned about. I just hope it's realistic that these scenarios could be happening!