A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Short chapter here, but it was the right place to end it. You'll see what I mean when you get there ;)

Chapter Nine - Symptoms

Diana turned off the bathroom light and went back to bed. By the time she woke up again with her alarm going off, her earlier self-diagnosis had been confirmed. She really, really didn't want to leave her bed. Odd, since four hours of sleep normally did the trick, but if she had flu it made sense. And her stomach still wasn't right, was still protesting loudly about the iced mocha she'd consumed. Diana vaguely remembered being told that milk was bad to drink if you were feeling nauseous, and cursed vividly.

She went to the toilet again, then crawled back into bed again, this time not emerging for another two hours, after which she felt better, but still slightly sick - and hungry, an odd paradox. She went to the cafeteria and had some breakfast, making sure to stay away from dairy. She had monitor duty this morning, and she was already running half an hour late for it.

A fact which had not gone unnoticed by Batman, who was already there. "You're late," he barked as soon as she came through the doors.

"I know that!" she shot back.

He stood up and crossed his arms. "Why?" he demanded.

"I wasn't feeling well this morning if you must know!" she spat, feeling irrational anger well up.

He stopped. "Are you alright?" he asked in a much softer tone.

"I'm fine," she emphasised, plonking herself down in front of the screens.

She was turned away, but knew he was hesitating since he didn't leave straight away. "Is there anything else?" she asked, the smell of Kevlar overpowering her senses. Hera, how did he live surrounded by it? She didn't know if the stench was worth its bullet-stopping capabilities.

He was silent, and then the doors hissed open and closed. Diana rolled her eyes. Impossible man.

She turned her attention to the images in front of her, but hadn't been watching for more than a few minutes before the doors hissed open again. The smell of Kevlar told her who it was, and she looked up at him in askance. He had a cup of black coffee in his hand, and put it down in front of her.

"I'll take over, Princess."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"If you're sick you need to go to J'onn and get checked out," he said. "You're no good to the League if you're not at full-strength."

Ah. The League - of course it was about that. Hera forbid he be concerned for her. "I'm fine, Batman. People get sick all the time."

"You don't," he pointed out. "Go to the infirmary."

Feeling that a little flirting might help her feel better, she raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "And just how are you planning to make me, Bruce?"

He glared. "Diana."

"Yes?" she smiled innocently.

He leaned down, one hand on either arm of her chair and parked his nose a few inches from her. She felt her heartbeat speed up, but made sure to keep her smile in place, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he affected her so much.

He moved even closer. "Well..." One hand moved from the chair to her arm, moving slowly up it at a tortuous pace. "First..." Her elbow, upper arm, "I'd do this..." She wondered how it was possible to become captivated by blank white lenses. "...and then..." His fingers were caressing lightly over her neck now, and she knew he'd feel how fast her pulse was. "...this," he finished.

His fingers hit two points on her neck, and Diana suddenly found she couldn't move. Why that arrogant, deceptive-

Her train of thought was cut off as he scooped her up out of the chair and carried her out of the monitor room. What the Hades was he doing? Not that she was finding it unpleasant being this close to Bruce - or she wouldn't be if the Kevlar hadn't been so strong - but how dare he do this to her?! She was Princess of the Amazons, and here she was being carted around like a sack of potatoes! As soon as she had her motor functions back she was going to kick some serious Bat-ass for doing this. In the meantime, she spent the short trip to the Infirmary thinking up unpleasant ways she could take her revenge the next time they sparred.

When Batman entered the medical bay carrying a conscious but unmoving Wonder Woman, even J'onn was surprised. Bruce said nothing bar a short "she's sick", before he laid her on one of the beds, restored her motor functions and left again.

Diana immediately stood up, intending to go after him and give him a piece of either her mind or her fists. J'onn put a hand up. "Diana, if you really are sick then I'll need to examine you."

She sighed. "Alright, but I don't think there's anything you can do," she said. "I'm running a slight temperature, I've been sick, tired and dizzy lately. All symptoms of flu, are they not?"

He nodded. "Yes. But there are other symptoms that you don't display." He came over with a thermometer and gestured for her to open her mouth. She did so and waited while he asked a series of questions.

"Any headaches?"

She shook her head.

"Muscle ache?"

And again.

"Chills?"

Again no.

"A cough?"

She shook her head a final time, and the thermometer beeped. J'onn took it from her and checked. "Hmm. You are running a degree higher than normal. If it's alright with you I'll take some blood for some tests, but I don't think you have full-blown flu."

"Yet," she added, grimacing at the idea. "Do what you have to do, J'onn. I'll be fine."

"But it will put Batman's mind at ease," he assured her.

Diana snorted. "He's not worried about me, J'onn. He's just worried my performance might have a bad effect on that of the League."

J'onn smiled as he pulled out a syringe. "I assure you that wasn't all he was worried about." He gently inserted into the vein at the crook of her elbow and drew some blood.

Diana watched calmly and then pressed a cotton wool pad against the pin-prick of the needle mark. "Thanks, J'onn."

"The results should take me about half an hour to process; in the meantime I suggest you get some rest," he said.

She nodded, though she didn't feel as fatigued as she had earlier. Now she only really wanted Marmite. Odd, since she'd never really liked it in the past. "Alright."

She left the Infirmary and headed to the commissary, then fixed herself a snack of a bagel smothered in the darkly-brown pungent spread. It tasted like ambrosia - and she'd hated it the last time she'd tried it. Shrugging, she decided it didn't matter and carried on eating. By the time she'd finished - and tried her luck with another iced mocha - J'onn had contacted her.

"Diana, I have your test results," he said over her com-link. "Can you come to the medical bay?"

"On my way," she said, leaving the cafeteria.

A few moments later, she entered the Infirmary and smiled at J'onn. He held a piece of paper in his hand, and gestured over to one of the beds. "Perhaps you should sit down."

Diana shot him a slightly alarmed look, but did as requested. "What is it? What's wrong with me?"

J'onn shook his head. "There is nothing wrong, exactly."

A few seconds later, her outraged shriek resounded through the Watchtower. "I'm what?!"

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A/N: Review please!