"Diana, are you sure this is what people wear nowadays?"
Steve walked out of the changing room, dressed in a pretty tame pair of jeans, a blue shirt and a casual jacket, but he looked like he felt like those clothes weighed a ton over his shoulders.
"Yes, and you look great!"
"Really?" he twirled in front of the full frame mirror. "I don't know… it feels…"
"Strange? How do you think I felt when Etta made me try all those clothes back in 1918?"
He stopped, looked down at his current attire, and shrugged. "Well, I was going to say they feel lighter than what I was used to, but yes, I think I now see your point. Do we need more? I mean, I think I have enough clothes for a lifetime!"
Diana looked at the pile of clothes they had decided they liked and that they would buy in that particular store, then thought of the already consistent amount of clothing they had already purchased and that was now stored in the trunk of the car she had rented and nodded. "Yes, I guess you have. Come on, let's pay and head home."
"Good idea. I'm kind of hungry, you know." He took off the new jacket and handed it back to her, before moving to the changing room and proceeding to divest himself so they could pay for the items.
"Want to eat something before we had to the apartment?" she inquired.
"You think there's a restaurant open after the mess of the past few days?"
"Uhm," she was thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe take out places. Those seems to be always open."
Of course, for the umptenth time that day, Steve felt like the fish out of water, and she could read it in his eyes as he unbuttoned the shirt. "Don't worry, you'll get there. It took me a good while to get used to your time, but you'll get there. Believe me, been there done that."
"Yeah, well… it's kind of a shock, you know?"
She chuckled. "Don't I know it?"
They ended up on the couch in the living room with thai take out and beer, and Steve struggling with the chopsticks, while he enjoyed the new tastes he was trying. Only halfway through, Diana had the idea of turning on the TV screen in front of them and watch the news. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the hell is that?"
"Calm down, it's like a movie theater, only smaller, and in color. It's called television. It was a pretty big deal, back when it came out."
He stood, carton in one hand and chopsticks in the other, and walked closer to the flat screen. "It's incredible! Movies were all black and white and so grainy… Look at this, it's so vibrant, like I'm seeing this with my own eyes! But… how does it work?"
"It's not different from a radio. They discovered a method to transmit images together with audio and here we are."
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "It's amazing!"
"It's kind of dull, after the novelty wears off. There's a lot of trash going on, quality is often considered less than quantity. It's quite useful for the news though. You wanted to know what happened yesterday, right?"
"You mean, this is what happened yesterday?" he asked, as shaky images of the battle that had occurred just twentyfour hours before, probably short videos taken with mobile phones, flashed on the screen in front of him. He visibly shivered, when they showed a small segment of a video of herself being hurled yards and yards away before abruptly stopping her flight against a concrete building, crashing through the wall. That had hurt, and she was still sore from that ruinous fall.
"That hurt."
"You say it like it's the most normal thing in the world!"
She shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't happen so often, but it happens."
Steve shuddered, then walked back to the couch and sat beside her. "Shit! You really are superheroes!"
Again, she shrugged. "Super… maybe. Hero? The real heroes are out there helping clearing the rubble we leave in our wake. You should have seen…" she paused, closed her eyes and let her head fall on the back of the couch. "You should have seen last year."
He placed the container and chopsticks on the coffee table in front of them and wrapped her shoulders with his arm, pulling her close to him. She snuggled closer to him and reveled in the warmth radiating from his body through the fabric of the brand new shirt he was wearing. "Why don't you show me?" he asked, a soft whisper in her ear.
With a groan, she grabbed the remote and opened the YouTube app from the smart TV control panel, then searched one single keyword: Doomsday. There were tons of videos to choose from, so she just picked one of the longest from the first few on the list, then pressed Enter. As the images moved on the flat screen, she felt his breath hitch multiple times. It was a collection of many videos, both amateour and professional, that showed the fight against Doomsday from different perspectives and angles, but all exhibited the magnitude of the damage done to the docks of Metropolis and the violence of that alien creature made by Lex Luthor unleashed against the three of them.
"So… that's what happened?" he asked, when the video reached its end.
"Just the end. This was the peak of a struggle that involved Bruce completely misunderstanding Clark's intentions and nature, his attempt to kill him and a third person, a certain Lex Luthor, exploiting this rivalry to achieve his personal goals. And there we were, fighting a monster that fed on energy, which made him stronger and stronger."
"Shit… what did you do?"
She found another video, one she knew showed, from far away, the way they had managed to kill Doomsday, with a coordinated attack that, unfortunately, led to Clark's death. At least they had managed to stop the Kryptonian monstrosity in front of them.
"How many dead?"
"No more than a couple hundreds, if you include the villagers in Africa Luthor had murdered to deliberately start a war against Superman," she explained. "Mostly collateral damage, mercenaries hired by Luthor to push forward his plan."
He took a deep breath. "I don't like this guy."
"Me either. He's a slimy psychopath, with a tendency to manipulate people and play cruel pranks on them. He blew up the Capitol building, just because he wanted Superman gone."
"Alright, I suddenly feel like this guy is worse than Ludendorff."
She nodded. "He is. But Bruce… Better, his alter ego, Batman, had him imprisoned. He's out of the way."
"People like that are better off dead," he stated, bluntly.
Diana sighed. "I wholeheartedly agree. But Bruce… he once had a no-kill rule. He abandoned it for a while, but following Clark's death, he went back to the old ways. I told him I had no qualms with killing him, but he wouldn't let me."
"Aside from Ludendorff and Ares have you killed anyone else, in the past ninety nine years?"
"No," she murmured. "Though some people probably deserved it more than they deserved mercy. After Ares, I promised myself I would have never killed anyone else, if I could avoid it, that I would avoid violence at all costs, if I could. I was tempted, multiple times, but always managed to avoid it. Even during World War Two, I… But this time, I have never seen anyone as bloodthirsty, ruthless and devoid of morals as him. On Earth at least."
Doom and gloom, as always it seemed like their relationship was destined to be on the dark and twisty side.
"Alright, enough of that." With a grunt that sounded like a chuckle, Steve pulled her until they were both lying on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. "We had funny movies in 1918. I'm pretty sure you still have them. Come on, find one with that… thing of yours, show me the funniest movie you can think of. I was planning to make love to you all night long, but all this talking about death and psychos is making my libido drop."
Diana laughed and he soon followed. Gods, it felt so good, laughing again. Better, having a reason to laugh again! Not that she had spent the past ninety nine years in a constant state of grieving, but his death had cast a very dark shadow over her immortal life that had dimmed every chance of happiness she had ever had. Now, everything was different. There was no war to end all wars, no alien threat hanging over them, like the Sword Of Damocles from the myths. Sure, considering her line of work, something would pop up sooner or later, but in the immediate future, it was just them. And her quest to recover as many ancient artifacts as she could.
Gods, she had to call work too. If she still had a job.
Anyway, she did as he said. For once. Some Like It Hot never failed to make her laugh. The mix of good music, great actors and a stellar screenplay was a killer combination for bad mood. Also, being black and white and set in an period closer to Steve's own time, though six years after his death, it made it easier for him to enjoy it.
"Well don't you understand? I'm a man!"
"Oh, nobody's perfect!"
With that last line, they almost fell from the couch as the laughed, so hard their ribs hurt. A heap of tangled limbs, they were so entertained by the old classic that when the last, legendary line rolled in, they burst in such a boastful and sincere laugh that they shook and convulsed on the couch, to the point that they nearly fell, literally, like the figure of speech. They only managed to stop the fall when Diana, quick to react, placed a hand on the floor and kept them both up.
"God!" he sighed. "Are movies all so funny in this century?"
"Well, this was released in 1959, it's not exactly this century, but there are both old and new movies that are this funny. This was just the first one that popped up in my mind."
"Hell, I've got a lot to catch up with. How about music? How has it changed?"
"A lot! Listen, first thing in the morning, I'll teach you how to use a computer, and a tablet. That way, you can do all the research you want to do. The moment you learn how to use Netflix, Spotify and Wikipedia, you're going learn so much faster! I'll be here of course, but as soon as you get the hang of nowadays technology, you'll be halfway through adapting to the twenty first century."
"If you say so…" He pressed his lips on her forehead. "As long as you're with me."
"You're not going to get rid of me so fast, Captain Steve Trevor!"
Much to her surprise, with a swift move, he wrapped his arms around her and stood from the couch, carrying her like she weighed nothing. "And you're not getting rid of me anytime soon, Diana, Daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons." He then moved towards the bedroom. "By the way, how's your mother?"
"Just fine, I suppose. I haven't seen her in a while." She kissed him. "But enough of my mother, didn't you have plans for tonight?"
He nodded, quite solemnly. "Yes, and I intend to go forth with them."
He reached the bed gently dropped her over the thick duvet that covered it. Her memory showed her flashes of their one night in Veld, images that had haunted her for nearly a century but that now could be recalled as a happy memories, not a regretful memento of all the time they never had.
Time that now was given back to them, in the most fortuitous way.
Gods, she had to thank Barry properly, before she headed back to Paris.
"Hey, everything alright?" he asked her, kneeling on the bed.
"Yes, absolutely, I was just… I was just thinking about Veld."
Steve's eyes suddenly darkened. To him, it had been a couple of days, but for her, it had been decades, and he knew it. Earlier that morning, they had no time to think. When Alfred had led them to the guestroom he had chosen for them, with the adrenaline pumping in their bodies, they had no time to think about their past, and how long - or little - time had passed and sex had been fast, loud and almost brutal, a life-affirming carnal act of need to possess one another, body and soul, to reconnect after cheating death.
But now… things were catching up with them.
"Want to stop?" he proposed. "You had a rough night and… I can't even imagine how you feel now. For me… it was hours. For you, it was decades, I get it. You grieved my death, while I just thought I was going to die and while I was certain I would have never stepped off that plane, watching someone die and thinking you're going to die are not even comparable. Getting used to 2017 is nothing, compared to grieving someone for so long."
Gods, Steve Trevor was and will always be the only one that could read her like an open book.
"No, I don't want to stop. Just… go slow?"
Suddenly, the shadow was lifted from his eyes and a bright smile appeared on his face. "Slow, yes! I like slow! Slow is good!"
Diana smiled herself, then started unbuttoning his shirt. "Then let's go slow."
And slow it was.
No longer hindered by the complicated system of buckles and straps of her armor, which made him fumble a lot that night in Veld, Steve took his time divesting her, taking each article of clothing she wore off, one by one, his lips always on hers in a languid kiss that had her swoon and feel light-headed.
As his hands roamed over her skin, his palms calloused by hours handling planes and firearms made, quite literally, in another century, it felt like no time had passed, at all. Alright, they had sex just hours before, multiple times, but not like this. Like that night in Veld, Steve was worshipping her as the goddess he didn't know she was, sweet and dedicated, but rough when he needed to be. The stark difference between his soft lips on her neck and the scruff of his stubble made her shiver and moan, and he hadn't pulled her jeans off yet!
"Breathe, Diana," he murmured against her sternum, the soft vibration of his voice echoing in her aching lungs. He smiled, as she gasped for air. "Glad I can still make you forget how to breathe."
The very same thing had happened, ninetynine years before, in Belgium.
"No one else could," she tried to say, but it came out more like a moan mixed with a whine, when he finally flipped the button of her jeans open, pulled down the fly, and skimmed them off her hips and down her legs. "Not before, not after."
He chuckled and rested his chin over her hipbone. "I knew about before, but after?"
Trying to muster the best scolding gaze she could, Diana pushed herself up on her elbows and gave him a good stare down. "You were dead. It was ninety nine years for me. Everyone has needs!"
"Hey, I'm not complaining, I'm actually glad you didn't renounce to live because I was dead. I was just curious."
"There will be time later for such curiosity, but right now let's just say that no one ever matched. And you're overdressed."
He gave her a playful bite on her hip. "Greedy… I like that!" Then he finally pulled her jeans off all the way, leaving her with only her underwear on. "You know what also I like? Underclothes have gotten so much skimpier!"
"You should see certain lingerie I have."
He stopped in his tracks, hands on her thighs, fingers hooked over the hem of her knickers, but he didn't move. She noticed a vein pulse in his temple and the tendons in his neck became rigid and thick as rope, but after a moment, much faster than she could have predicted, he had managed to take off all his clothes and get her naked too. "What happened with going slow?" she murmured.
"I can still go slow," he huffed. "But you made the mistake of mentioning lingerie and if this is normal female underwear, I have a pretty good idea of what lingerie might have become, I just got distracted thinking about how it would look on you."
Diana wrapped one hand behind his neck, her fingers slipping through his soft, blond hair, and pulled him close to her. "It looks great. But it also looks good when I'm not wearing it."
He blushed and she smiled as she imagined what kind of lewd thoughts were going through his mind in that moment. "A matter for another moment, now, let me love you".
Gods, she had missed this. Not just the sex itself, but the intimacy, the closeness, the kinship with someone that meant more than a passing encounter just to blow off some steam. Yes, she had lovers in the past years, more than she could count, sex was always easy to find, but no one ever matched him because she was not in love. She had cared about them, yes, but love? That overwhelming feeling that had brewed in her from the moment she had dragged his unconscious body on the beach had never come back, for anyone.
With Steve he just felt… safe. And loved. There was just something more between them, something she had never found anywhere else, in anyone she had crossed in Man's world, male or female, to the point she had given up. Better alone and serene than in a void relationship with someone you care about but didn't love.
And that was the trick.
Suddenly the soreness from the battle against Steppenwolf was replaced by another, more than welcomed, kind of soreness. And she couldn't be happier about it.
It took them a good while to come down from the high.
"Man, I like slow…" he murmured at some point. "I like harsh, fast and loud, but slow? You can't beat that."
"Admit it, you just like sex."
Steve chuckled. "Guilty as charged, but can I say that I love sex with you and only with you?"
Snuggling closer to him, Diana slapped his chest. "Flatterer."
"Hey, you just said the same thing a moment ago, just different words. Damn, Father Robert would be so disappointed," he mused. "I've given up my soul to the pleasures of the flesh."
"Strange. Where I come from, the pleasures of the flesh are integral part of life, they're cherished and encouraged, once someone has reached maturity. In yours, it was shunned and banned as sinful."
"Never understood that myself, nor I ever abided those rules much in my life, but my parents wanted me to attend Sunday School, I guess it stuck with me in the end. How are things now, on this subject?"
Diana smiled against the skin of his neck. "Much closer to the concept of sexualiity I grew up with. Some people are still sticking to your rules though, and they're currently ruling the United States."
Steve tried to suppress a yawn but failed miserably. Weariness was catching up with him too, as the surge of adrenaline that kept them going finally ended. They were both running on fumes and sleep seemed like the most marvelous thing. "Hell, I'm exhausted."
"Technically, you haven't slept much that night in Veld."
He kissed her forehead. "Neither have you. And you did so much more than me, fighting Ludendorff and then Ares…"
"Steve, you stopped the war!" she exclaimed.
"But I didn't fight against a power-hungry bastard and a god!"
She chuckled. "My half brother."
Beside her, she felt Steve's body go rigid. "Excuse me?"
"My mother… she lied to me. I wasn't sculpted out of clay and brought to life by Zeus, my conception involved more… biological meanings. Zeus is my father. And that made Ares my step brother."
"That's… neat. I think. That makes you… what, exactly?"
"A demigoddess. With half my family feuding each other. But believe it or not, Hephaestus is actually a nice guy. About thirty years ago he got me a nice new set of sword and shield, and tinkered a little with my armor too, to make it more durable. His works are truly on par with the myths."
"Alright Diana, I think this is too much to take in for one day. You'll tell me more tomorrow morning."
"Will you still be here, tomorrow morning?" she asked.
"I don't plan on going anywhere, except the bathroom, if need arises."
"Excellent." She briefly rolled away from him, just long enough to turn off the already subdued light, before she returned back to him. "Good night."
"Good night, Diana."
It was a moment later, bathed in the soft light coming from the city through the window, that it dawned on her that she had the chance to rectify what had caused her so much pain in the past century or so.
"Steve?" she whispered. He was already almost asleep, and he replied with an unintelligible mumble. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" he groaned.
"For being so obtuse. You were trying to help me, to make me understand that the world wasn't black and white as I thought. And I didn't trust you. Had I been more open-minded, maybe things would have gone differently."
He shrugged his shoulders, making her shift a little at his side. "Water under the bridge. Your reasoning made sense, from your point of view. It wasn't wrong, just a little.. Outdated."
She sighed, suddenly relieving ninety nine years of grief. "One more thing."
"Uhm?"
"I love you too."