Part VIII

After toweling off, Diana donned the dark sweats that Alfred had laid out for her. They were entirely too large for her, obviously Bruce's. As she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, Bruce's scent enveloped her. It was a smell she had come to only know on the man out of the batsuit. The Batman doesn't smell, he had told her in his gravely voice, he hadn't worked all these years to protect his secret identity to have it given away by some expensive aftershave. She'd laughed at him then, but later she had seen him solve case after case with little more than that. It made her realize that something as insignificant as a smell could be part of a puzzle that solved Batman's identity.

She swept up her damp hair in a band and walked out of the bathroom. A small tremor shook her as her bare feet touched the cold floor of the cave. Not really from the cold, but because she was racked with giggles at her 'Batman's afraid of cold tile' joke. Maybe he should put that in his protocols, she chuckled to herself.

She slowly began making her way back through the cave. She stopped every so often, as she always did, amazed at what Bruce had created in such a dank and dark environment. She looked down from a walkway, noticing that the large cave consisted of many sub levels under the main one, which she was now on. The whole complex was not unlike it's creator, she mused. The manor was Bruce Wayne. Like his Bruce Wayne persona it was mainly for show. It's many rooms filled with examples of his great wealth. Examples to distract those around him from his real mission. The manor was large, but the cave out matched it in sheer size. It was clearly evident that the Batman was the dominant personality, but like the cave there were many layers to his personality. There was the main level, dark and intimidating, which everyone saw. Then there were the many underlying layers, which he called on when needed. She wondered to herself if she would ever be allowed to live in either.

Bruce regained consciousness halfway through Alfred's ministrations. He tensed slightly as the needle Alfred was using pierced his skin. He realized Alfred had taken advantage of Bruce's unconsciousness state and had not used any anesthesia. Which the older man knew Bruce abhorred. Bruce opened his eyes and saw the flattened slug nearby in a tray. Alfred must have noticed he was awake, because he broke the silence in which he was previously working.

"I think you may have faired better, Master Bruce, if the bullet had not
passed through your cape. Or better yet if you had not gotten fired upon
at all."

Bruce had come to expect this nearly every time he was injured. It had just become routine.

"You see," he said while holding up the offending punctured cape, "if not for your Kevlar lined cape, the bullet would have passed cleanly through your shoulder and I would not have spent the last 45 minutes digging a slug out of your left shoulder."

Bruce still lying on his stomach raised an unamused eyebrow at him.

"Are you finished?"

"With my berating, or your shoulder, Master Bruce?"

"Both," Bruce growled.

"Well, I suppose I could postpone my evaluation of this evening's excursion, but I'm afraid I have several more sutures to finish."

"Thank you."

"Your welcome, sir."

As Alfred resumed stitching, he felt Bruce stiffen somewhat as the needle pressed through and bound his flesh together. He stopped for a moment to retrieve a small syringe from a nearby tray. I'm going to give you a painkiller, Master Bruce."

"I don't need it."

"You may not, but I think Miss Diana shall. You tend to be irritable when you are in pain."

Bruce felt the tiny prick of the needle as it punctured his arm. He was caught a little off guard, but not by the needle. He almost immediately felt the drugs begin to lull him into a serene state.

"Diana is still here?"

"Yes sir, I believe she went to freshen up."

"Actually, I'm quite finished now." Both men looked into the dark, to the area beyond the bright lights of the medical bay.

Diana emerged from the shadows, dressed in what looked like some of his own athletic wear. They stared at each other in silence, until Alfred once again broke the silence.

"Well sir, I believe all that is left is for me to clean and bandage your wound,
then we shall be done."

"I'll do it Alfred," Diana blurted out.

"Very well, if you insist, Miss Diana. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall see to the cleaning of your uniform."

"You don't have to do that Alfred."

Alfred smiled mischievously.

"Oh, I insist, Miss Diana." With that he left them.

Bruce managed to sit upright on the table as Diana walked over to a close by sink. Bruce was still weak, but feeling much better than he was a couple of hours ago. Alfred had already laid out a sponge and the necessary bandages. All she had to do was fill the small pan next to the sink with water. She filled the pan with water and grabbing it and the bandages she padded to Bruce's side.
Bruce raised his arm slightly, testing the Alfred's sutures. They were good, in that they allowed him nearly all the mobility in his arm. He froze as Diana began cleansing the dried blood from his back. She worked gently, only stopping to wring the sponge out. The water in the pain was soon red from her efforts. He barely felt her cleansing, but what he did feel was having an undesired effect. Having finished her purification, Diana placed the sponge back into the pan. Bruce felt her lightly trace the many scars that covered his back. He was almost sorry when she stopped. He was having a tough time blocking these kinds of sensations from his mind.

Damn Alfred and his painkillers, he thought. They muddled his mind.

He felt Diana's breath as she began applying bandages to his shoulder. It was hot against his back and he could feel her breath coming heavy. He needed a distraction. Quick.

"Why did you stay?"

"I was worried," she replied.

"This isn't the first time you know, I've been injured before."

"I know, I worried then too..."

"Really?"

Diana moved around to face him.

"Really."

Bruce reached up with his right hand and pushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there for a moment before moving to the back of her neck. Bruce pulled her to his lips. The kiss was gentle at first, just a soft pressing of lips. Then it became more exploratory as they found each others' mouths. Bruce slipped off the table and embraced her tighter. Now each standing at full height they pressed their lengths against one another. Bruce pulled away, slightly out of breath.

"You sure do get more friendly when your hurt,Bru.."

Bruce gently placed a finger to her lips silencing her. Not unlike how she had silenced him a day before. He took her hand in his and led her silently through the cave then up the stone stairs to the manor.