Okay, boys and girls, this is where the fun starts.

PART THREE

When Alfred discovered what had transpired, he insisted on making a full evening of it.

"I shall have dinner prepared at seven," he declared. "From what I recall when Miss Diana stayed here after the Thanagarian Invasion, she exhibited a fondness for Italian cuisine."

"This isn't a date, Alfred. I'm giving her a driving lesson."

If Alfred heard him, he chose not to acknowledge. "With your permission, sir, I would like to examine the wine cellar to find a suitable accompaniment to the meal."

"I distinctly remember a time when I was in charge around here," Bruce grumbled.

"I recall also that she greatly enjoys strawberry shortcake. I have a delightful new recipe that the Princess might enjoy."

Bruce sighed. "Do as you see fit, Alfred."

"I thank you, sir, for your good faith. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes. Leave me alone with my memories."

"Very good, sir. Remind me to have your blue Armani suit pressed. You always look quite dapper in it. I'm sure Miss Diana will agree."

"Sigh."

Diana teleported into the Batcave at precisely 7:12 Tuesday evening – twelve minutes later than agreed upon. Not that Bruce was upset by that. On the contrary, it was difficult to be irritated at any woman who wore a strapless Valentino dress the way she did. She was simply breathtaking.

Bruce took the small carry-on bag she brought. "Alfred said dinner would be a formal occasion and that I should pack other attire for driving."

"Did he now?"

Diana nodded. "He also said you wear the blue Armani quite handsomely." Her hands brushed over his broad chest, finally finding his tie and giving it a slight adjustment. "I concur."

Bruce cleared his throat. No need to get too caught up in her hands roaming his body. "You're usually not tardy for an appointment."

"Sorry. All the girls said I needed to be fashionably late. I'm unsure why. They said twenty minutes, but I got restless."

Bruce stopped on their way up the stairs. "Hold on. The girls?"

"Yes, the other girls in the League," Diana explained as though it should be obvious.

"Such as?"

"Shayera, Zatanna, Dinah, Helena, Beatriz, Tora, Courtney, Mari..."

Bruce held up a hand, stopping her before she went through the full list. "So they all know you're spending the evening with me?"

"Mmhmm," Diana nodded.

Lovely. Barring an emergency, Batman didn't anticipate returning to the Watchtower until the Founder's Meeting on Friday. That was plenty of time for the rumor mill to kick into high gear. And knowing Zatanna like he did, she'd be fueling the fire unabashedly. Though outwardly he exhibited indifference, he was well aware that his old friend had annointed herself President of the Batman/Wonder Woman shippers brigade. Since the Circe incident, Zatanna never ceased to pester him on the topic whenever they came together.

Bruce sighed. Nothing could be done now. If he changed his mind and sent her away... Well, that might give the rumor mill something else to talk about. A topic not near as flattering. Though he purported to be above such things, Batman did have a reputation to uphold.

"Apparently Alfred knows better than I," he said. "He's running a bit behind on dinner. Leave it to him to take fashionably late into consideration."

Dinner went fabulously. Bruce wasn't used to a female dining companion with such a voracious appetite. The models and actresses he was forced to wine and dine to preserve his cover identity tended to pick at their food, always concerned about their figure.

Diana, however, easily packed away seconds and was contemplating thirds before Alfred reminded her about dessert. She indulged in two plates of strawberry shortcake and cooed happily when Alfred promised she could take leftovers back to Watchtower.

"Hungry, I take it?" Bruce teased.

"Hush," Diana shot back. "I eat most of my meals in the Watchtower commissary. Allow me to stuff myself when I get to eat real food."

"So you're saying there's a problem with the food service company I hired?"

"Of course not. The fair they provide is simple, basic, and functional. I would expect nothing less from The Batman."

Bruce's eyes narrowed into a glare. But he couldn't hold onto his irritation, fabricated as it was. Especially not when Diana was grinning at him so cheekily, licking her fork clean.

"Any other complaints in regards to my space station?" he inquired.

"The mattresses could be comfier," she automatically replied. This was obviously a topic she'd considered before. "And is there a reason why there's hardly any color aboard Watchtower? Everything is either white, or pearl, or cream..."

"Anything else? How's the laundry detergent?"

"The detergent is fine, but we could use an extra washer or two. On Wednesday and Saturday nights, all the girls do their laundry. It makes for an excellent time to socialize, but someone always must wait for a machine to become available."

Bruce stared. "Are you telling me the women of the League have set nights to do their laundry so they can...gossip?"

"Yes," Diana enthusiastically replied. "It's a wonderful bonding experience. I haven't felt such togetherness with my Sisters since Themiscyra when we would gather after a hunt."

For once, Bruce didn't have a ready reply.

In the Batcave, Diana climbed behind the wheel of the Batmobile while Batman sat shotgun. The grin on her face was a mile wide. She shifted in her seat, settling into the leather cushions. Her fingers traced the steering wheel lovingly, then grasped it firmly.

"I believe I understand the male infatuation with vehicles better now," Diana said.

"Oh?"

"I've heard much discussion that a big, powerful car has phallic symbology, and that anyone driving such a conveyance must be compensating for genital inadequacies."

"You've heard that, have you?"

"Yes. And Mari seemed of the opinion that you fell into this category."

Batman gritted his teeth. "Did she now?"

"Mmhmm. Though I've not been in position to confirm, I was going to defend your honor. But Zatanna was there and she was quite adamant that theory was untrue. At least in regards to you."

Batman turned his head away. He'd never been more thankful the cave was so dark. It hid his blush well. Not that Diana wasn't able to read him perfectly.

"Please, Bruce, there's no need to be embarrassed. I'm well aware that you've bedded other women. A warrior of your prodigious talents would be expected to. History is full of such tales."

Was it possible to die from blushing?

"Though it's counter to what I've been taught as an Amazon, I confess, that's part of your allure to me. If I were to share in the gifts blessed to me by Artemis and Aphrodite, it should be with a warrior such as yourself, one who has claimed so many important victories."

"..."

"And I hope you're not ashamed that Zatanna described how false Mari's statement was. You should be proud to possess such a prime example of the male form. I truly believe you would be inspiration to the sculptors of ages gone by."

Batman coughed, cleared his throat. He couldn't bring himself to meet Diana's eyes. So instead he just pointed.

"The left pedal is the brake, middle is the accelerator, right is the clutch..."

Batman had to give Diana credit; she was a fast learner. That said, he was still glad he took the time to swap in an old gearbox. There was no sense ruining a new one while training a driver inexperienced with operating a manual transmission.

But again, she learned fast. And after the fifteen minutes, she only occasionally slipped up during a shift. During that first half hour, he instructed her to stay out on the sparcely driven highways and routes just outside of Gotham. Now that her confidence and skill was growing, he felt more comfortable letting her take the car into the city itself.

Truth be told, it was joyous to watch an Amazon princess tear down a highway at ninety miles an hour, howling "Wee!" the entire time. Not for the first time tonight, and despite the embarrassing moments, Batman realized he didn't regret agreeing to this.

"So what's that button do?" she asked, pointing to a green button.

"Releases five hundred caltrops out the back."

"And this one?"

"Passenger ejector seat."

"And this one?"

"Manual override, should the vehicle not automatically reinflate a damaged tire."

"And this one?"

"It's the radio."

"Ooh! Music!"

She flipped the button and suddenly a news station flowed from the speakers. She furrowed her brow. "Where are your presets?"

"No presets. That's the station I listen to."

"You're listening to WKGC 101.3. Gotham City's only twenty-four hour radio news network."

Diana stuck out her tongue, like an infant fed something particularly disgusting. "That's all you listen to? News?"

"I like to stay informed," Batman said.

"Bah! Where's the tuner?"

Batman pointed out the tuner and Diana immediately began to channel surf. With each station, she passed out a comment.

Country. "Not a chance."

Classical. "Not tonight."

Rap. "Not EVER."

Pop. "I just...no. No."

She paused on the opening strains of a song. Her eyes lit up excitedly. "Volume! Where?" Batman again pointed and watched as Diana cranked it up.

"Do you know this one?" she asked.

"Vaguely."

"Decent album. Not their best. But I have it on vinyl if you wanna borrow it."

"I don't really—"

Diana let out a loud "shush!" and he instantly obeyed. She tapped the steering wheel in time with the drum beat and began to hop and sway in her seat, head lolling left and right, back and forth, her dark tresses flying everywhere.

And then she began to sing.

"Have you seen her? So fine and pretty
Fooled me with her style and ease
And I feel her from across the room
Yes, it's love in the third degree
Ooh, baby baby
Won't-cha turn your head my way?
Ooh, baby baby
Ah come on! Take a chance
You're old enough to

Dance the night away
Whoa-oh Come on girl, dance the night away"

She didn't have the greatest voice. But Batman found himself entranced by her enthusiasm and self-confidence and total disregard of the possibility of looking silly.

"A live wire, barely a beginner
But just watch that lady go
She's on fire, 'cause dancin' gets her higher than
Anything else she knows

Ooh, baby baby
Won't-cha turn your head my way?
Ooh, baby baby
Well don't skip romance 'cause
You're old enough to

Dance the night away
Oh-oh-oh Come on girl, dance the night away"

Van Halen faded away, to be replaced by Bob Seger. While she continued to hum and sing along to "Her Strut", the fervor of "Dance the Night Away" was gone. Batman found himself missing it.

"I never took you for a rock chick," Batman marveled. "The whole culture seems to run counter to Amazon beliefs."

Diana shrugged. "True. I occasionally run into blatant sexism and other immoral behaviors. But there's something to be said about the unabashed passion, vitality, and potency of the performers and the similar feelings they can evoke. And I believe anything that can produce such emotion and fill someone with such life is more a good thing than bad."

Batman listened to her points with interest and understanding.

"That said, if my mother caught me listening to Van Halen, she'd lock me in my room until she could perform a purification ritual."

Batman busted into laughter at the imagery of a teenage Diana being grounded. And it took several more moments before it struck him that he was, in fact, laughing. And judging by the awed expression Diana wore, she couldn't believe it either.

"I don't think I've ever made you laugh before," she marveled. Her face actually began to flush. "That's...cool."

"You say cool?"

"I say cool. Wally insists I learn colloquial expressions so that I won't appear to be a spaz when we hang out."

"And do you and Wally hang out often?"

"Yes." His face must have indicated surprise. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Batman. Natural, I suppose, given that we typically only interact during meetings, missions, or charity events. Wally is a dear friend."

Batman tried not to react too strongly to the pang of jealously. Wally, The Flash, and Diana, Princess of Themyscira, were apparently buddies. How much more did Wally know about Diana than he did?

He schooled his features to display his passivity. "And what do you do together?"

"Lot of movies. Sometimes go to a bar." Were his face uncovered, Diana would have seen Batman's eyebrows raise into his hairline at the thought of her in a bar. "Last week we went to a hockey game. It really is the most exciting sport to watch live. Last month we went to a rock concert. My Bloody Alice opened for XKCD at the Central City Pavillion. We were hoping to see a concert next month. Arsenic and Old Lace is having a one night only reunion show in Metropolis. Tickets sold out in five minutes. Sucks. I adore that group and this might be the last time they ever perform together."

He didn't know why he was surprised. She'd been in Man's World for years now. It shouldn't come as a shock that she'd developed a life in it. And she was absolutely right. Beyond league business or the occasional charity function, they rarely interacted.

For that, Batman felt a deep sadness well in his chest. The surge of emotion caught him offguard. He was never one to seek out relationships or personal interactions. But at this moment, he wondered why the hell he'd never made more effort to know Diana. Though his typical Bat-logic shouted in the depths of his mind, at this moment, they truly seemed like the pathetic excuses Diana claimed them to be.

And she seemed to read his mind. Diana shrugged, trying to allay his thoughts.

"I understand you're not a people person. I would love it if you shared in those activities with me, but I don't expect it, and I would never strong arm you into doing so. I'm contenting myself to what our relationship appears destined to be."

The Bat screamed at him not to ask. But he did anyway. "And what is our relationship destined to be?"

Diana sighed. A deep release of breath that conveyed so much more than her words ever could. A heartache so palpable that Batman's practiced stoney visage nearly came down like the Berlin Wall.

"Professional."

"And you're okay with this?"

"What choice do I have? You'll never consent to more. And I'm too proud and value you too deeply to proceed as my Sisters would have in days gone by."

"How would that be?"

"In the days before immortality, it was necessary to replenish our numbers the way nature intended. Sisters would seek out a suitable man, ravish them, and once pregnancy was confirmed, return to the island. Were these the ancient times, no Sister would question your fitness to sire a future Amazon."

Batman wasn't sure if her clinical description of his worthiness to father a child was arousing, disturbing, or both.

Diana shrugged again. During the entire interchange, she kept her eyes fixed on the road, carefully avoiding Batman.

"Though it goes against modern Amazon philosophy, I would enjoy taking you as my lover. And given our circumstances, I doubt my mother and older Sisters would fault me for doing so. But I won't actively press for it. While I would like you as a lover, I do not need you as such. I need no man. I am content in knowing my intentions are understood by you, and if you should alter your beliefs, that I am willing to invest further." She finally spared him a glance. "Am I understood by you?"

Batman was leaning towards arousing. "You are," he simply answered.

"Good."

Before he could marvel at their conversation or reflect too deeply upon it, Alfred's voice suddenly sounded, overtaking the Grand Funk Railroad on the radio.

"Sir, pardon the interruption of Miss Diana's birthday festivities, but Mr. Gordon apparently requests your presence."

Batman glanced up and out the window. The Batsignal reflected in the night sky. "Thank you, Alfred." He turned to the driver of his car. "Diana, I'm sorry, but this is where we call it a night."

Diana tightened her grip on the steering wheel, a smirk growing on her face. "Nope," she said. Her thumb found a small button on the wheel. With a press, the Batmobile's afterburners engaged, and they were racing towards police headquarters.

It seemed their interesting night was only getting started.

END PART

Random notes! The band names. I think My Bloody Alice is a cool name. Were I ever in a band, I would wanna call it that. XKCD is the name of the best webcomic out there. Check it out if you don't know it. And Arsenic and Old Lace comes from the old Cary Grant movie. And as for the choice of Van Halen, well, who doesn't feel like dancing and singing to that song?

So who will the mysterious rogue be? Place your bets! And while you're at it, review! Reviews make up for the love I didn't receive as a child.