Author's Note: These chapters just keep getting longer. Character ownership goes to DC Comics. I hope you all enjoy.

I'm frustrated. There's just no other way to describe it.

I look up from the street, lift my right arm and fire my grapnel at the building across the street. It catches on an outcropping and I leap towards it, swinging out past the corner of the building to land atop another roof on the next street down.

"No! No! Get away!" A male voice, shouting from below.

I turn left, down the street to the east. I hop onto the ledge on the roof's south edge. I start running, taking a leap and jumping to the adjacent rooftop, tucking into a quick roll before springing onto my feet and back into a run. I stop at the other side of the roof, looking down into the alleyway below.

A second's glance to assess the situation and I toss myself over the edge. My hands go to the leading edge of my cape and I use it to gain some control over my descent, aiming my feet towards one of the two assailants. My target is the only one of the pair wielding a gun.

A few moments later, my feet connect with the backs of his shoulders and my momentum drives him into the ground. I sink into a crouch atop him, my cape spreading out around me, settling into a conical shape reminiscent of a circus big top. I slowly rise a moment later, turning my head to keep an eye on both the second assailant and their victim.

"The Bat!" Fear. The second assailant draws a knife while backing away, inadvertently approaching the assailants' target, who in turn side-steps before flattening himself against the nearby wall. My hands are still hidden beneath my cape. I pull out a pair of Batcuffs while I step away from the unconscious gunman.

Desperation makes itself apparent on the knife-wielding man's face and he lunges forward. Without any great effort, I side-step and turn. I reach out and slap one of the cuffs onto his wrist, then twist his arm behind his back while stepping behind him. I grab his other wrist and pull it back as I lift his knife hand higher, not letting up until he howls in pain and the knife falls to the ground.

A moment after I have the cuffs on his other wrist, I spot the telltale flashes of red and blue coming from the end of the alley. I wait a few more moments, ignoring the struggling man in my grasp.

One of the approaching officers finally yells, "Gotham PD! Freeze!"

In response, I lift the man before me, hurl him over my head towards his still unconscious accomplice, and then spin towards the back of the alley while standing tall. I retrieve my grapnel long before my legs have straightened and a moment later, I aim it towards the skyline and fire. I retract the line when I see that it is secure and zip skyward.

I take a final glance back into the alley after landing again. There were two officers in the squad car. They have just finished stuffing the cuffed man into their squad car and are now putting handcuffs on the other man, even as he comes around and slowly wakes up. They make no attempt to replace my cuffs with their own. They've clearly cleaned up after me before, they'll let Gordon handle it.

I turn away and break into a quick sprint, jumping onto the next roof and then bounding from an air conditioning unit, off the top of a roof access stairwell, and then across the next gap and onto another building's roof. This latest roof is high enough that I don't need to roll, landing on my feet and continuing to run, barely losing speed from my time in the air.

I break into a full sprint to leap to the next rooftop, then go for my grapnel the moment I land, shooting it towards a gargoyle sticking out over the street to my right. The line retracts and I'm airborne again, swinging over a four-lane street. I disengage the grapnel when I'm almost across the street and make a clean landing on the other side. I turn to my right, following the street for a few blocks, glancing around as I run, looking for signs of trouble.

I glance right, to the north, and the view awaiting me brings me to an abrupt halt. My frustration vanishes in an instant. I'm looking down a street. There are no cars on it, but I recognize it regardless. I turn around and walk to the south side of the roof. There's some large lettering sticking up past the top of the ledge, overlooking the street running by below.

I lean out between two of the letters to look down at the street, the curves of a stylized 'm' to my right and the straight edge of a similarly crafted 'D' to my left. I know what the words say. I knew the moment I saw the street on the north side of the building. 'Gotham Delizioso.'

Tonight is only the second night since my date with Diana, counting the first as my patrol after we said our farewells and she returned to the Watchtower. I've found myself here five times already. Three of those visits were on that first night.

I look down at the steps leading up to the entrance. Memories of that evening run through my mind again, as they have each time I've come here.

Diana and I arriving at the restaurant. Alfred leaving and the two of us heading inside. A good dinner. Dancing. Fun.

'Fun, Batman? Not exactly a thought in line with my reputation.' In the end, I smirk despite myself. It had been fun.

I remember the end of our dinner. A comment just before we finally left our table after dessert sticks out in my mind. 'Simple, eh, Diana?' It was easy for her to say and easy for me to hope for, but reality had set in the moment we had walked out the doors and onto the street.

The maitre d' had kept the reporters out of Gotham Delizioso, but the crowd had more than doubled while we were busy eating and dancing. Alfred's return had excited them like young boys presented with a long stick and a large beehive.

Predictably, Summer Gleeson had arrived with her WGOB crew sometime while we were inside. Unlike the others, she wouldn't step aside. She knew Bruce Wayne too well to let him walk away without a word. The woman would have stopped Batman for a statement if given the chance.

While Alfred helped Diana into the car, she had finally gotten a word out of me for Gotham Insider. She asked the right question, how I could personally know Wonder Woman and if Diana knew my reputation with women.

'We met at an event in Paris. I invited her to dance to help her escape the questions from other attendees. Our dance was interrupted, as you might recall, by terrorists trying to kidnap Queen Audrey of Kasnia, then Princess. We promised then and there to finish our dance someday. As to your second question, Summer, Diana is far too intelligent...' I recall answering.

It sort of sounds dry in hindsight, more like a report than a quote for a news story. Now, repeating the words in my mind, I can trail off. I'm still not quite sure how I would have finished aloud. I had been cut off far more abruptly when I spoke, but then, Alfred isn't here now to remind me I've said enough.

'Good thing for Alfred, too. That sentence had too many dangerous ways to end.' I could have accidentally hinted at being Batman. I could have broken out of the Playboy mold far too early to be believable. I could have made a terrible 'wonder' joke about Diana or said I was going to avoid making one before complimenting her.

Of course, ever since, a swarm of reporters had hung by the manor's front gate, having first followed Alfred, Diana, and I back from dinner. All of them wanted a statement for their own shows, for their own articles and headlines. They would have loved to corner either of us to get it, but sadly, the front gate at 1007 Mountain Drive in Gotham is a little easier for them to stake out than the docking bays of the Watchtower.

Desperation to get out for patrol had almost pushed me to driving out with Alfred at night to get in town, but it would have been too conspicuous. Fortunately, I had remembered another avenue in and out of Gotham: the Watchtower. Sadly, even the Watchtower wasn't an easy route.

The first night, I had transported up and immediately succeeded in confusing the life out of the on-duty transporter technician by brushing her aside to return myself to the heart of Gotham. This past morning had been similar, only I had stopped by the computer bays for a few minutes to collate some data and send it ahead of myself to the cave.

Tonight, Diana was on monitor duty and she saw the transporter logs when they updated. The moment I stepped off the pads, she had called for me over the founders' channel. The general founders' channel. Whether it was on purpose or by accident was already immaterial when Flash chimed in to joke about the Dark Knight competing with the Prince of Gotham. Shayera had cut him off before I could, shutting him up and reminding him that they had an evacuation to manage.

Arriving in the monitor womb, Diana had asked if I was planning to leave without checking if she was aboard or not...again. She'd offered to forgive my silent reply on the condition that from then on, I find her to steal a moment of privacy together before heading back down to Gotham. Of course, it all hinged on whether she was aboard or not at the time.

Past satisfying my own wants, she argued it gave the technicians less to wonder about. Who knows how quickly one would have figured out my identity with me on and off the Watchtower so quickly and so often while reporters are camping at the end of my driveway.

I've only done it once so far and not exactly on my own yet, but the idea of sharing frequent, though cautiously private embraces and kisses with Diana has already more than dulled any press-borne frustrations over my situation with her. Still frustrating is the situation around that dream. I lift my gaze from the street. 'If I should call it a dream... Too many oddities to that night—like not being able to remember what led up to me falling asleep, not knowing how I even made back it home.'

A voice in my cowl interrupts me. "Sir." Alfred. Avoiding my name to protect my identity.

I put a finger to my ear. "What is it?"

"You have a…call." He seems almost uncharacteristically uncertain of his words.

I frown. Alfred knows the protocol. "Take a message."

"As I told her I would, sir, but she is rather insistent."

'She? Can't be Diana. Diana would have just used the League channels.' I pause for a few moments to think. I can't bring myself to ask who, no matter how confident I am that we're on a secure channel. "Fine. I'll be back soon."

"Very good, sir. I'll ask her to wait." As Alfred answers, I pull out my grapnel and fire it away. I swing from Gotham Delizioso's roof and let the retracting line pull me up on top of the gargoyle it latched onto. With a leap and another shot of my grapnel, I land on a high rise's roof.

I walk casually to the center of the roof, then reach for my cowl. A small on-screen display pops up on the lens of my cowl and I quickly patch into the Justice League's channels. "Batman to Watchtower. One for transport."

"Affirmative, Batman. Standby." Mr. Terrific.

J'onn's immersion into humanity had done the reclusive Martian some real good. He is certainly much more personable now. Since returning to the League, he is more like Superman or Flash, leading a double life as a citizen and a League founder.

On returning to the League in the wake of Darkseid's revival, he hadn't even requested Mr. Terrific relinquish his old duties. Eventually, Terrific had offered J'onn J'onzz his duties while he was aboard, but the Martian had been reluctant to take him up on it. He insisted that he was wary of falling back into his old habits.

The transporter's light begins to surround and engulf me. I give a small smirk and a quiet humph. 'And it was Diana who eventually convinced him we wouldn't let him fall back into that rut.'

I close my eyes for a moment, opening them when the transporter's light has faded and my ears are filled with the drone of the Watchtower's systems and machinery. I step off the pad and approach the transporter technician.

"Which founders are aboard?" I ask simply and without explanation. She isn't surprised. Outside of the original seven, none who have been part of the League for long would dare to ask why I do anything.

She takes a few moments looking through the logs before answering. "Superman, Green Lantern, and Flash, sir."

I give a slight nod in reply as I turn and head for the elevators. 'I should still spend a few moments aboard. Diana is certainly right about that.'

After a short and lonely ride in the elevators, I step out into the hallway of Dormitory Deck A. All three of my fellow founders are standing together just down the hall from Superman's door in mid-conversation. 'This would happen…'

Flash is facing the elevator while the other two men are facing away. The speedster is the first to see me. "Hey, Bats!"

John and Superman turn towards me as Flash darts around them, zipping down the hall and coming to a stop at my side. He throws an arm over my shoulders and hangs forward, making sure to put himself well within my field of vision. My expression sours as I focus on the mirth on Flash's face and while John and Clark take their time approaching.

I try not to let frustration get the better of me. "Wally," I warn.

He ignores it. "You really shoot for the stars, don't you?" A second's pause as he hopes I will respond. "Come on, Bats, don't tell us you were embarrassed by all the attention. Is that why you've been spending even less time than usual up here? You'd think a guy like you would be used to appearing in the tabloids.

"Oh, I know! You said something stupid and now she won't talk to you!" My frustration finally makes its way to my face. He chuckles. "Great job, Bats! You are so in the doghouse..."

My lips turn into a devilish smirk. "Wally, didn't you mention the other day that you finally got a new standing cut-out to replace the one Orion broke?"

Flash's arm is off me in a heartbeat and he's standing before me, a look of fear and shock plastered across his face. "No! You wouldn't!" I answer with silence. "Not my standee!" He zips back to his door, punches in his code to save himself a precious second waiting for the voice system, then ducks inside. He's out before the doors are even open all the way. He punches in another code and the door closes while he zips back towards me.

"Ha! My standee isn't even on the Watchtower!"

"Oh? Are you sure?" Genuine amusement coats my words.

For a moment, Flash's confidence holds. Then he begins to second guess himself. The horror is back on his face soon and he rushes past me, rapidly pressing the elevator's call button until it arrives. He boards it quickly and begins pressing the button to close the doors until Lantern holds them open with a wedge-shaped construct.

"Sorry, man. Congratulations. Maybe now we can all stop talking about my love life?" John jokes before joining Flash in the elevator.

'Running before I can give him something to worry about.'

The doors close and I'm left alone in the hall with Superman. I give a slight start at the realization and my right hand goes to my belt. My index finger starts to twitch over the clasp of the compartment of necessity, the compartment of last resort.

"You didn't actually do anything to Wally's standee, did you, Bruce?" There's no hint of anger in the Kryptonian's tone. If anything, he sounds like he's trying to keep from laughing.

"No," I reply, steadying myself and dropping my hand back to my side. I turn slowly to face him.

"So, Bruce, what are you doing up here at this time of night? Kind of early for you, isn't it?"

I hear his question, but I can't answer. I can barely even see Superman. All I see is the wall past him, the far end of the hall. I can see myself dying against it.

"Bruce?" I must have been silent for too long.

I shake my head, side-stepping to get the wall out of my line of sight. I take a moment to think of a reply, to remember his question. "Phone call in the manor."

"Ok. Well, what're you doing here? Planning to answer it in your room?"

"No. There are too many reporters at the manor. I've been using the Watchtower to bounce back and forth between there and Gotham."

Superman nods with understanding. I don't know why, but I elaborate a little. "Diana suggested I spend a little time here aboard the Watchtower each time to keep the staffers from picking up on who I am."

"Good idea."

"What were the three of you doing awake?"

"Just getting back from a late mission. We were all about to retire."

"And Diana?"

"Separate mission in Kasnia. Well, maybe I shouldn't call it a mission. It's nothing apocalyptic, just a personal request from Queen Audrey." He pauses, takes a deep breath in hesitation. "So... Diana... Heard you two had a good time of dinner at the…"

"Gotham Delizioso."

My answer puts a hard stop on his measured approach to the conversation. "An Italian restaurant? Really, Bruce? Didn't you think that going the extra ten feet for a Greek place would have been just a little bit more fitting?"

"It was a new restaurant," I defend. I'm following his example and relaxing, falling back to our all but friendship. "Besides, I get the feeling Diana's had enough Greek food in her lifetime. A little change couldn't hurt."

"Alright, I can see that. Well, in any case, she's been pretty happy about it since she got back to the Watchtower. I have to hand it to you, Bruce. I had my worries, but you're serious about her, aren't you?"

'Yeah, you should remember how that looks, Kent.' I smirk again before refocusing on my answer. "I am, Clark. Don't worry about it."

He gives a chuckle, the laugh of a joke that started before I arrived. "Careful, Bruce, that sounds like something Diana would say." Another pause, leaving me without explanation for the emphasis. "...Bruce. I'm sorry." A sincere voice.

"Sorry? What for?"

"For doubting your intentions. I ran into her by the elevator when she was on her way down to Gotham to meet you. After what happened last time, I tried to talk her out of it."

I spend a few moments letting his words hang in the air. He can't look me in the eye, or rather in the cowl. His head is turned away, his gaze downcast. 'Superman, the Man of Steel, is ashamed of himself…'

I start snickering. He lifts his eyes, turning to me. My snickering explodes into hearty laughter, something Joker would pay millions to hear and billions to see. There's something hilarious about all of this, though it's certainly not him.

"What? How is that funny? I'm trying to apologize to you!"

He's getting angry, I need to stop and explain. I shake my head and raise my hands to halt him while I quickly control myself. "It's not that. You decided to tell Diana not to let herself get close to me and thought it would work?

"Clark, do you know how many years I spent trying to dissuade her against the same thing? The day I succeeded was the day she finally got through to me. Diana is nothing if not persistent." I pause. I turn enough to see the door to her room and correct myself while glancing toward it. "Well, certainly not nothing…"

"Persistence, eh?" It's Superman's turn to smirk. "Well, you certainly make a good match for that!"

He refocuses after a moment, his expression turning more somber as I turn back. "So, Bruce, I have to ask…"

"Why in public?" I finish, already anticipating his train of thought. He nods. "Are you asking as a friend or as Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet?"

"Just as a friend. Don't worry." I nod in acknowledgement before answering.

"Clark, imagine you didn't have a double life. Imagine you were in Diana's position, you were yourself no matter where you were or what you were doing. Your mere arrival would create a commotion. You'd have to coop yourself up here in the Watchtower to get any semblance of privacy.

"I couldn't ask Diana to coop herself up in the manor to protect my identity. She would have had to if she was going to enter a relationship with me as Batman."

The understanding is clear on Clark's face. "Don't take this the wrong way," he soon begins, "but did you ask Diana what she would want?"

"No. At least not before." There's certainly no harm in telling Clark. A private conversation, of course, but knowing will help to ease Kent's worries about two of his closest friends. "She said she doesn't see a difference."

Confusion. "In where she's being cooped up?"

I shake my head for a moment. "In me."

Clark nods again in understanding. "I'm glad." He falls silent for a short time, giving me the peace of mind in which to remember the phone call waiting for me back at home.

"Alright, Bruce. I won't try to interfere anymore. Just…please try not to hurt her or drive her away again." His expression becomes somber again, his words sharply pointed. "It hurts seeing a close friend cry and knowing that another friend is responsible, especially when it's a woman as strong and independent as Diana. That's something that stays with you."

I take my turn to nod in acknowledgement. We're both silent for a few moments. Then Superman breaks the silence with a yawn. "Well," I reply, "that's my cue to leave."

"Yup. Night, Bruce." Clark turns towards his door, waving over his shoulder as I turn back to the elevator.

When I get back to the transporter deck, I take over the control console for a moment, running through the motions of accessing it with my communicator, navigating the founders' screens, and authorizing myself with barely a wasted thought. I step up onto the pad and after a few seconds, I'm back home in the Batcave, Alfred waiting near the Batcomputer, looking a little impatient.

"Very good to see you return, Master Bruce." His tone is its usual, welcoming cheeriness.

"Thank you, Alfred. Is…"

He interrupts, saving me from asking the rest of the question. "She is still holding, sir."

A quick wave of dread passes over me when I realize just how long I spent aboard the Watchtower. I hurry towards Alfred, ready to use the Batcomputer next to him as a phone. I've already reasoned against it, but I can't help but confirm, "It's not Diana, is it?"

"No, sir. You are more fortunate than for that. I will not spoil the surprise any further, save saying that it is a call for Master Bruce. The rest you'll have to ask yourself." Hints of a wry smile pull at his lips.

I let slip a low growl of annoyance, but his smile only broadens as he turns to watch me when I reach the Batcomputer's seat. I sit down quickly, reaching out and dancing my fingers across the keyboard. When the system is ready, I put a trace on the active phone line while reaching across for the dedicated call button.

"Hello? This is Bruce Wayne," I say, playing it safe and lifting the pitch of my voice to the tone of the Playboy.

"Bruce, finally! How much longer were you going to keep me waiting? Wait, forget that. More importantly, how long were you planning to keep the news to yourself?"

"Lois?" I ask with surprise. I don't need any information past the sound of her voice and the Metropolis area code from the trace.

"Yeah. I'm alright. How are you doing, Bruce?" She pauses, not really waiting for an answer to her hasty question. "I can't believe you wouldn't give me the exclusive to break this one! You haven't really said much, have you? You can still give me the first interview. Come on, Bruce, you owe me! I've never even written a headline for my other exclusive…"

'Her other exclusive…that she knows the secret identity of Batman.' I'm a little surprised that a tough-as-nails reporter like Lois Lane would never attempt to write the biggest story of her career, assuming she still doesn't know about Clark. The Detective in me compels me to ask, "Really? Not one word?" There's more I leave hidden in the words.

She picks up on it. "No, of course not!" She finally slows down, taking the time with her words, thankfully unaware that Alfred is beside me to listen. "Truth be told, Bruce, I spent a long time regretting that I didn't come with you to Gotham.

"I meant what I said back at the airport, Bruce. I've been trying not to, but I still keep up with the news about you. Both during the day and at night."

"Lois…" I try to begin.

"Hold on! Keep your big, black, impossibly quiet boots on!" She drops her voice back down. "...I have to admit, I'm really glad you've found someone to be serious about. Maybe now I'll finally be able to move on."

The admission surprises me. I try to encourage her. "What about Superman? He's always been there for you, hasn't he?"

She gives a tired sigh. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I really do like him, love him, but even now he really only shows up when I need to be saved. And I still haven't been able to squeeze his secret identity out of him. I just know he doesn't run around in his blues twenty-four hours a day.

"And that's the other thing, Bruce. You've never denied anything to me. You were still open to me afterwards. Superman spends his time dodging questions and—I don't know—teasing me!"

"Lois," I answer after a short while, "if there's anything I've learned about superheroes, it's that they're persistent and stubborn to a fault."

She laughs. "Voice of experience, Bruce? How long has she been wearing on you?"

I chuckle in response. "Maybe I should wait before answering."

I can hear the excitement building in her voice. "You're going to give me an interview?"

"Yeah…sure."

"Great! Can you make it to Metropolis tomorrow morning? It'll be a lot easier than me trying to get to Gotham."

I turn to Alfred who gives an immediate nod. "Of course. Where should I meet you? The airport?"

"No. Would you mind meeting me at The Planet? I have a deadline for another story I have to get to the editors by noon tomorrow. Oh! Do you think you could get Diana to come, too?"

"I'll…certainly see what I can do."

"Really glad to hear it, Bruce. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Good night, Bruce."

"Good night." I hear the click of her receiver. I press the call button again, ending the call from my end.

"Very good, sir. Shall I make the arrangements for your private jet?"

"Yes, Alfred. Thank you. I'll contact Diana in the morning."

Alfred pauses for a moment, the silence telling. "She's in Kasnia, visiting the queen."

"Very well, sir. Will you be retiring now or is there more work you'll be doing first?"

"I'll be up within the hour."

Alfred pauses, looking to a digital clock display high on the Batcomputer. 3:07. "As you say, sir." Skepticism. I can tell, he doubts I'll be in bed before 4:30.

As Alfred turns and heads upstairs, I quickly dive into my logs and records to prove him wrong. Updating takes only ten minutes, but I soon lose myself in past records. After what feels like only a few extra minutes, I look back to the clock and groan. 4:33. I've only succeeded in proving Alfred right.

I pull myself from the computer, standing and putting it into standby mode. The screen blackens and I'm left with the array of lights set about the cave's ceiling. I stand and head for the display cases. I change out of my Batsuit, not bothering to put on any more clothing than a pair of slippers as I head for the stairs. I get up to the light switches and turn back, watching as I turn off one set of lights after another, until I'm finally left with only the lights further up the stairwell.

I get into the manor and figure that Alfred has gone to bed, finding he has left only a few lights on for me. I glance outside. The moon is full enough that I can see without aid. I turn off lights as I get to each room and each hallway. Finally, I make it up to my bedroom.

I kick the slippers off when I get to the bed, then crawl underneath the covers and relax. Sleep is upon me before I know it, my consciousness flooded by the unique sensation of sleep. A darkness. Relaxing peace. Timelessness.

It all ends abruptly. I'm surprised to see light. I'm in my room, but from a perspective other than my pillow. I'm in the center of the room, past the foot of my bed. I look around. I can see outside and that the sun is up, but I can't see myself. I turn around. I can't find myself. I can't see or feel my arms, my legs, any part of me.

The door opens and Alfred stops under the arch of the doorframe, not taking the extra step to enter the room. "Miss Diana?" His tone is gentle, cautious.

I turn my attention to my bed, finally noticing Diana's form beneath my bed sheets. She rolls from her side onto her back and lifts her head to look past the foot of my bed. She is alone. "Bruce?" There's a sadness in her voice. It stabs at me.

Alfred nods. "Yes, Miss. Master Kent has delivered him. He is in the cave."

Diana turns to the windows beside the bed. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I can."

"Of course. Shall I ask him to wait for you?"

"No. You don't have to, Alfred."

Alfred nods, then returns his hand to the door handle. He carefully pulls the door closed while taking a step back. It doesn't make a sound.

Diana recaptures my attention as she gives a stuttering sigh. I turn back to her, confused about what is happening. She looks to be about on the verge of tears and Alfred's words were…worrying, to say the least.

Before I can wonder about it, Diana frantically shakes her head from side to side for a moment before flipping her covers aside. She quickly turns and lifts herself until she is sitting, her feet hanging over the edge of my bed to the floor. For a moment, her nudity captivates me. 'Diana…naked…in my bed…' Now I know why Alfred hadn't ventured any further into the room. Before I can study her further, her expression yanks my attention back from her body.

She has banished the tears that nearly escaped her eyes, but there is still no happiness in how she carries herself. She stands, crosses the room, heading for one of my dressers. She opens the top drawer when she comes to a stop before it and pulls out clothing that certainly isn't mine. A small, white Grecian robe is the first item to come out.

She tosses it over her left forearm and then sets off about the room. She seems to collect an item from each corner. Most of it is metal. Gold.

She enters the master bathroom built into the corner of the room, takes a quick shower, then dresses before coming out. I recognize the outfit immediately. I had begun to suspect it before she entered the bathroom, but now I cannot deny it. She is wearing her Amazonian ceremonial garb. The same clothing she wore for Superman's supposed funeral.

She gathers her sword and shield before heading for the door. My perspective finally begins to shift, as if being dragged along behind her.

'I'm dead.' The evidence fits. Alfred's choice of words. Diana's lonely stay in my bed. Her change of dress.

Eventually, Diana reaches the bottom step at the floor of the Batcave. Alfred is waiting for her. "This way, Miss Diana." His tone is almost without emotion. It's disturbing to hear him talk like I do while in the cowl.

Alfred turns, walking ahead of her into the cave's darkness. Diana follows without complaint. When they are both well out of the direct light, Alfred reaches for a light switch. I can barely see anything. Neither Alfred nor Diana seem to be as inconvenienced.

Light floods the area, revealing a shining medical table. Laying atop it is my corpse, just as I had feared. Diana stops cold and begins to quiver in anguish. Eventually, she takes a step forward, but she lifts herself a few inches into the air to float across the remaining distance.

She closes her eyes and relaxes her hands. Sword and shield each drop to the floor with a clang. She leans towards my colorless face, finally lifting her hands to my cheeks. She looks down to my chest for a moment, then closes her eyes tightly and turns back to my face. "Did he say…" She hesitates, unable to finish the question. Her hands are gently cupping my face. I swear up and down that I can almost feel her against my skin.

"Yes, Miss." Alfred begins. "An explosion aboard the Watchtower. A pipe." My perspective is drawn closer to Diana. 'No.'

"And his cowl?"

"Ripped clear while they attempted to revive him." Anger fills me. 'No... Don't believe it. It's a lie!'

I know what this is now. This is what happens after Superman kills me aboard the Watchtower, maybe a day, at most two later. 'An accident? He told Alfred it was an accident!'

Alfred walks around the table and steps up to my other side. The pain is as clear on his face as it is on Diana's. He looks down to my chest. An odd look crosses his expression and he leans over me. He straightens, then hurries around my body and Diana, heading straight for the lab, drawing her attention as he moves. He comes back a moment later with one of my most precise metal detectors.

He sets it up on the edge of the medical table, then pulls the detector away from the main unit. He holds it over the hole in my chest and his eyes widen when he turns back to the detector's display. He dips the end of it into the cavity and sweeps it around the edge, never touching my flesh.

"Alfred? What are you doing?" Diana's left hand is no longer on my face, having lowered it to my right hand.

"There is no trace of metal in this wound."

Alfred nearly tosses the detector wand onto another table. He barely remembers to turn the device off before returning to the lab. He comes back this time with a three-dimensional imager. Again, he sets it up while resting it on the edge of my table.

"If you wouldn't mind helping me hold this still, Miss Diana," he requests while lifting it over the cavity in my chest.

Diana, still confused, lifts her right hand from my face and takes hold of the device from opposite Alfred's hands. The imager secured, Alfred reaches for the control panel and activates the machine. It hums for a moment, flooding everything below itself with light. The lights shift, different colors in different spectrums and different bulbs from different positions. Diana's grip keeps it almost impossibly still.

It stops after only a few seconds. Alfred repositions his hands. He gives a nod to Diana and she lets go. He carries the device over to the Batcomputer and sits down in my chair. After a few moments, Diana leaves my side and follows him over.

"I only pray that I am wrong…" he mutters. He reaches out for the Batcomputer's keys with hesitant hands and begins to access the imager's data.

'You're right, Alfred,' I answer morosely. No one hears me.

The imager's data compiles quickly. It appears on the Batcomputer's main screen. Alfred reaches for a trackball and rotates the image. He adjusts the zoom and stops cold when he knows for sure what he is looking at. Something catches my eye in the corners of the screen.

"...Good Lord!" Alfred swears, interrupting me before I process what I saw.

"Alfred, what is it?" Diana demands.

He stops, as if he had forgotten Diana is beside him and is now suddenly confronted with the fact. He turns slowly and I can finally see his expression. It's grave. More serious than I've ever seen.

"There was never a pipe. The shape of the cavity in Master Bruce's chest, these depressions in what remains of his heart. They were from a fist. Master Bruce was murdered."

Diana's jaw drops slowly as shock settles in. She stands stock still for a few moments. Tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes. She fights them back, fury filling her before the first few can fall down her cheeks. She and Alfred have surely reached the same conclusion.

A step forward and she presses a button on the underside of the console directly in front of Alfred. The row of display cases to the left of the Batcomputer splits, revealing a long-sealed room.

'No…' I'm beginning to understand her intention.

Diana goes straight for it, coming to a stop in the middle of the room, standing over a circular hatch. Alfred is on his feet, barely away from the Batcomputer. "It's under this, isn't it?" She doesn't wait for an answer. 'I've never told anyone about that, not even Alfred! How could she know?'

Diana lifts a fist to the ceiling. With an angry scowl, she drives her fist down into the metal. It holds, but barely, and she still leaves a sizable hole where her knuckles breached the hatch. Another punch and it falls away. She drops down to one knee and reaches inside with both hands. She tears open the apparatus below, pulls out a small box made of thick lead, then stands tall beside the hole.

Alfred finally catches up. "Miss Diana, what is this? What are you doing?" She answers silently, turning towards Alfred and lifting the cover off the box. The soft green glow of kryptonite fills the unlit room.

Understanding and then horror flood Alfred's expression. "No! Miss Diana, you mustn't!"

Diana lifts her gaze from the lead case and its dangerous contents. She offers a humorless, joyless smile. Her eyes are sad, disillusioned and disheartened. "I have to, Alfred."

"Please! Miss Diana, what would Master Bruce say?"

"Do whatever it takes, but make sure you stop him," Diana answers, the same look in her eyes and to her smile.

Alfred stops. He takes a step back. His eyes fall from Diana's face to the lead container in her hands. "Yes… Yes, I suppose he would, wouldn't he?"

Diana begins to turn, replacing the lead top to the small box. When it is in place, she pauses. She lifts a hand to Alfred's shoulder and, with her gaze still downcast, tells him, "Thank you, Alfred, for being a voice of reason."

Alfred lifts his gaze to the back of Diana's head, unable to see much more than part of her profile. She releases his shoulder and returns to the table with my corpse.

She spends a few moments staring down at me in silent reverence. Finally, she sets the lead container down gently, placing it beside my head on the table.

"I'm sorry, Bruce." She leans down, plants a gentle kiss on my left cheekbone. Again, I'm all but sure I feel it. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow this."

Diana lifts her hands from the edge of the table to my shoulders. She pulls the remains of my cape and cowl from my suit and gently, carefully pulls the cape from behind my body.

She takes a deep breath as she holds it up in front of herself, then whips it around back behind her. She positions the tattered edges over her shoulders, then adds my cape to the ceremonial garb already held in place beneath the pair of ruby-eyed, golden brooches atop her shoulders.

For a moment, Diana closes her eyes, grasping the cape from within and pulling it tight around herself. She clenches her eyes shut and holds still. She gives a sigh of longing before relaxing as best she can and continuing, turning her focus to her headdress.

Her hands emerge from the dark cape, the fabric billowing below her too-narrow shoulders. She lifts her hands to her head, taking hold of both sides of her winged circlet. She slowly lifts the circlet clear and holds it out. After playing her thumbs across the wings' design momentarily, she sets the ornate item squarely on my stomach.

She reaches across to my right hand. "You don't mind holding onto this for a little while for me, do you, Bruce?" Her words sound like idle conversation. She doesn't allow even the slightest of hints that she is talking to a corpse.

The weight of sadness is the closest thing I feel to something tangible. 'Of course not, Diana,' I try to say, but of course, neither she nor Alfred can hear me.

Diana soon finishes with the circlet, leaving my arms resting at my sides, my forearms crossing towards my stomach, and my hands cradled around the circlet's wings. She turns her attention to the rest of me for a moment, looking me over, avoiding the hole in my chest. She tips her head to the side, reaches towards my utility belt.

Her hands find the single ruined compartment on my belt, the kryptonite I had tried using to defend myself still ensconced within. Diana pries it open with her fingertips, using only the barest of efforts. Surprise colors her face when she sees the second piece of kryptonite.

"Always be prepared... Find a weakness, then strike… Right, Bruce?"

She pulls the kryptonite from my belt, then sets it atop the table by my head. She moves her hand a few inches further and picks up the lead container with the second piece of kryptonite. She opens it and with her right thumb and forefinger, plucks it from its place.

After a quick moment spent turning the kryptonite about in her hand, Diana sets it and the container itself on the table by my head and the other shard. She begins tearing the lead cover apart with her bare hands. Soon, she is left with the majority of the top, its sharp edges all folded up towards the same side.

Diana lifts her left wrist, holding her arm with her palm facing up. She pushes the sheet of lead under her bracelet, creating a small and narrow hollow. She drops one of the kryptonite shards inside before pinching the edge of the lead against the inside of her bracelet to secure it. She picks the second shard up and holds it in her bare right hand.

Solemnly, Diana turns to look at Alfred, not at all surprised to find him standing only a few, respectful feet away. His hands are together before him. He looks like the very model of a modern butler. He's doing well to hide his own pain. 'He must be holding back for Diana's sake.'

For less than a breath, Diana's smile widens, as if to reassure the old man. She leaves my body and its table behind, heading for the lone transporter pad. She steps up with slow, deliberate steps. She stops on the pad, turns back, faces the cave's normal occupants, and the sad smile on her lips falls the rest of the way down, giving her a frown to match the look in her eyes.

She lifts her right hand to her ear, begins to extend her forefinger towards the communicator, but then stops short. She freezes for a moment, then moves her finger away and focuses on Alfred. "Alfred?"

"Yes, Miss Diana?"

"Would… If I come back…would you mind if I stayed here, in the manor?"

I see joy in Alfred's expression for the first time since I awoke to my non-presence in the middle of my bedroom. "Of course not, Miss Diana. Why, Master Bruce and I would both be honored to have you here."

The corners of Diana's mouth lift up into the faintest of genuine smiles. The emotion doesn't reach her eyes before she closes them. "Thank you, Alfred."

She returns her finger to her ear, pressing it lightly to the communicator. "Mr. Terrific? This is Diana. Is Superman aboard?" A slight pause as she waits for a response. "Good. One for transport."

The spots of light from the transporter flitter into existence around Diana. She meanwhile lowers her arm back to her side, her hand held tightly clenched around the kryptonite hidden in her palm.

"Miss Diana?" Alfred speaks up. Diana opens her eyes, answering him with her gaze. "Take care. And good luck."

The lights finish surrounding her before she can reply. She disappears in a flash of light. My perspective, my consciousness begins to explode and tear. I feel myself being torn asunder. I'm dimly aware of my consciousness, suddenly a stream as it's stretched halfway across the surface of the Earth in its quest to follow Diana into space.

Amidst the growing pain and shock, I see my destination ahead of me in the sky: the Watchtower. The first bits of my consciousness collide with the outer hull of the station and what I perceive as pain increases exponentially. I try to scream to relieve it, but without warning, it ends.

I'm back in my bed in Wayne Manor. My hands dart to my chest, finding a beating heart and a solid chest. I'm very much alive and solid to boot.

I release a bated breath. 'Not again…' I comment to myself tiredly as I turn towards the windows.

I begin to go back over the first dream. When finished, I examine the days since, ensuring that my memory is still in place. Finally, I begin to go over this morning's dream, the vision that just released me from its hold.

While I'm going over Alfred's use of the metal detector, the real Alfred knocks on my door and enters immediately after. "Good morning, Master Bruce!" he exclaims. He stops when he finds me sitting up in bed. "Oh. Well, it's good to see you already up, sir.

"May I remind you that your private jet is ready at Goodwin International. We may depart for Metropolis whenever you are ready, sir. I've taken the liberty of readying your computer to contact Miss Diana before we depart for the airport."

"Thank you, Alfred," I reply as he crosses the room and hands me a small cup of coffee. I drink slowly as I resume my assessment of the second dream.

Eventually, I finish both coffee and assessment, then get out of bed while handing my empty cup back to Alfred. He backs away as I climb out of bed. I, meanwhile, begin going over the dream again, remembering that there was something that caught my interest.

Alfred leaves and I go to my dresser, searching out a complete outfit in the tan of my usual business attire. Each dresser drawer and each closet door I open leaves me with no shortage of choices in my desired color.

I bring a full set to the bathroom and take a brisk shower, drying myself even more quickly on the way out. I get dressed as best I can and am nearly ready to leave, only my untied tie held in my hand as I head for the door.

I get out into the hallway and then it hits me. Alfred used the Batcomputer to compile the data from the imager. I could read every word that appeared on the screen. 'Then that wasn't a dream either! There's something else at play here.'

I glance back into my bedroom for a moment, eyeing the walls, ceiling, and furniture with suspicion. Nothing seems out of place. 'I'll leave it be for now. If someone's tampered with my room, then tonight will prove it. I should be safe staying in Metropolis.'

I close the bedroom door and start down the hall. First, I need to get Alfred to fix my tie. Second, I need to head down to the cave to call Diana and ask her to meet me in Metropolis.

"There's some sort of external influence, but who or what?" I consider all that I know for a moment. "It must be related to the gap missing from my memory."

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.