Title: Open Your Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, Donna Troy, Wonder Woman, or Batman. Pity.

Unbeta-ed version.

"Open your heart to me, baby, I hold the lock and you hold the key/Open your heart to me, darling, I'll give you love if you, you turn the key" - Madonna

Flashback

"Bruce," she murmured into the shadows and his arms tightened around her, sharing his warmth and the darkness of the night with her. He didn't say anything more, but Diana knew that he was listening and without a second thought, in the next emotionally charged moment, she whispered, "Thanks," and tilted her head, meeting his lips with her own in a bold gesture that stunned and rocked them both…

He let himself just feel for just a minute, to let the press of the lips she'd suddenly bestowed on him mean something more than grief, more than a desperate seeking for comfort. But he knew, just as she did, that all the kisses in the world weren't going to bring back Donna, and that what she did tonight, she would most certainly regret her actions tomorrow, however innocent they might be at this moment.

But, for just one more second, he was content to have his lips against this woman's, this princess and ambassador who had touched his heart with her grace and quiet confidence today, not letting anyone or anything rattle her as she'd dealt with her grief in the only way that she knew how: with poise. He supposed it was an inherent Diana trait as he'd never seen her any other way, regardless of the situation.

The tears had been in a weaker moment between friends and he'd known that they were due, that at some point, she was going to need to release all the emotions that were clouding her mind and her heart, and just break down. And he'd known from the start of today that he wanted to be the person in whose arms she finally clung as she discharged all that emotion, everything that was weighing her down, including that slim possibility of guilt. He'd known that emotion before, known it's harsh and stinging presence, especially when someone younger, someone close, was involved and how difficult it was to move past the grief and remember all the moments that had come before.

He understood.

And that's why he had made sure that he was there at the end of the day, that after she bid Lois and Superman goodbye that he'd been the presence in the shadows, just as he always was. But today, it wasn't for Gotham, it was for Diana.

She was one of few women that he understood to some degree and respected to an even further degree. She had a moral code and just a simple goodness about her that had somehow managed to charm him over their years of knowing one another, building a friendship of sorts. He wasn't sure when his mind had wondered at the possibility of more, only known that it had been considered and processed in his brain, analyzed. Even now, he wasn't sure what ultimate conclusion he had reached, only that there was a germ in his brain wondering about the what-ifs, the maybes, and the possibilities, something that he rarely allowed to happen, much less to continue. Usually, those germs, those seeds, were snapped off before they rooted.

But with Diana, the question still lingered.

And now, he eased himself back, keeping her close in his embrace, but removing her cool lips from the heat of his own before she realized that something dark and dangerous lingered under his skin around her, something more dark and dangerous than himself. His feelings for her were sometimes, despite his work, uncontrollable. He'd done his best to ignore them, but still they persisted. But they'd stayed hidden from her bright blue eyes and he didn't intend to change that now. Relationships were not for him.

No matter the beauty and the wit, the goodness, of the person with whom he wanted a relationship.

And so, he eased himself back, slipping his chin onto her head and resting his stubbly jaw against the softness of her curls. They fit together well, her height complementing his own and her curves fitting into the angles of his body. They were a contradiction in terms, each of them, he mused. She was a soft and beautiful woman the whole world longed to be like, but underneath, she had a fiery, indomitable spirit and strength that was almost unparalleled. He, although he was loathe to admit it, was composed of an outside of steel, forged by years of hard work and determination, while inside, he posed a nature that called out for him to save everyone, to sacrifice himself time and again to protect and provide for the safety of others.

It was that trait that had led to Jason and that trait that had gotten Jason killed.

So, therefore, he understood Diana's emotional upset and frustration, her love for her sister, and the guilt that would be racing through her system, fueling her blood and pummeling her heart.

"Diana," he murmured, wanting to tell her that he understood the kiss, that he didn't expect something more from her, that he knew it had been a gesture of comfort and of need. And he was simply glad that she had chosen him to revel in that moment.

She knew what he was going to say, that it had just been her emotions rising to the surface after losing her sister, that she had just needed someone, anyone, and he had been there. A part of her wanted to tell him that yes, it had been nothing more than a moment of need and confusion, simply because she wasn't sure how he would react to the idea of anything more, and because she didn't' think he would see her feelings for what they were: true and real, not the fleeting momentary confusion and grief that he would see that kiss as.

"Bruce," she answered, halting his words before he managed to utter them. She didn't want to hear that he understood, that it had been nothing more than a friendly gesture on his part.

And so, she took her heart in her hands and handed it to him, at least a small piece of it.

Pulling back, she left her hands around his waist, tucked underneath his cape, and glanced up into the white shields of his eyes. She longed to pull away his cowl, but wasn't sure how he would react to it. In fact, knowing Bruce as she did, she knew that it would probably be best for him if she left the cowl intact, so he could process his emotions logically without her seeing it in his face. However, that didn't make this any easier on her.

"It wasn't grief. It wasn't comfort. It was me, needing you. No one else."

He hadn't moved. In fact, his body had stilled, mutated into something hard and cold before her very eyes. She wasn't sure what that meant – if he was going to push her away or pull her into his arms. Betting on the first, she gathered her courage, the strength of her sisters, her gods, and Donna, and continued. "I have feelings for you, Bruce, and while I'm grateful that you were here today, both for me and for Donna, that kiss was about those feelings and not about my gratitude."

Turning away, unable to stare into the nothingness of his cowl and just worry and wonder, she instead turned toward the dark lushness of growth outside the courtyard, warming herself with her arms and hoping that she hadn't made a mistake in admitting her feelings. Bruce wasn't exactly the simplest man, emotionally, and even one wrong word would send him away, so that he could analyze and try to prove whether or not she meant it.

Choosing her words carefully, she let her arms dangle at her sides, not wanting to appear needy or confused, and looked back at him over her shoulder. He still stood there, stunned, and she smiled, knowing that that was exactly what that expression was, regardless of how little she could see of his face. She knew a man who was stunned by a woman's proclamation of, well not love, but of caring, and that gave her the courage, the boldness, to continue.

"I kissed you because of those feelings, Bruce, feelings of tenderness and affections and maybe one day, love. Perhaps you will choose to return those feelings, perhaps together we can have some kind of relationship, as more than friends. But no matter what you ultimately choose, that gesture, that kiss, was about more than just friendship or gratitude. It was about you and me."

Taking confidence from his silence, from the fact that he hadn't yet rejected her or spurred her and simply walked away, into the night as was his wont, she faced him dead on, letting her emotions and everything she felt for him flood into her eyes and, smiling femininely, letting her fingers cruise down his solid jaw, added, "And I want more, Bruce, more kisses stolen in the moonlight, more shared moments between us."

Hearing a cough from behind her, she turned to see the budding rays of sunlight gracing the sky and another, highly embarrassed, presence in her courtyard.

To be continued…

Please review!

To Reviewer Ágústa – Thanks! Honestly, sometimes I really like an angst ridden romance and other times, I just want the happy endings and to hell with the angst. In this case, you're right, it's an angst romance, but somehow, to me, I don't see it that way. I think it's because the angst has everything to do with the loss of her sister and not the burgeoning romance with Batman. Either way, I know what you mean about it making you think about losing your own sister – I'm not sure I'd handle it any better or worse than Diana does, but I'd like to think I'd have that same dignity. But thank you for the amazing compliment – I'm glad that my story made you stop and think for a moment and I return the big smile to you! Thanks!

To Reviewer Lauren – Thank you! I appreciate all the lovely compliments. It's such a poignant and emotional point in her life and I just love that she turned to him for support and comfort. I'm glad you like it and that you think it's one of my best! Thank you!

To Reviewer T – I think that on the weekends, people actually manage to get out of the house and do things – hang out with friends, run errands, or just relax and enjoy not having to go to work. They don't need fan fiction for escape like they usually do. I appreciate the genuine and genuinely nice/wonderful compliments – they make my day reading them! Compliments are definitely necessary to the survival of a writer – and criticism. Builds ego and character. Third guess: Australia. I'm trying here! Hope I updated soon enough for you!

To Reviewer Mystic Weaver – This is actually in response to your review for chapter 2. Thank you! Honestly, I don't mind that you have nothing to criticize about. But feel free if you find something. I'm glad you find it a pleasure reading my work and I promise – a hook up eventually!