Author's Note: Again with the longer chapter thing. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.
The smile now on my lips must have been infectious. I haven't been able to do anything else since Bruce and I sat down. Not that I've wanted to stop, just that it hasn't escaped my notice.
He leans over what remains of his meal, extending both hands towards me, one on each side of his plate. There is no hesitation when I reach out with my own to meet him near the middle of our small table. He leans closer and I follow suit. His head tips to the side and he closes his eyes while relaxing his lips. I follow along every step of the way.
Our lips meet gently over the middle of the table. The small candle below us, the only thing small enough to fit between our plates, radiates a subtle heat that warms my chin almost as much as my lips from the gentle press of Bruce's.
His head turns more and the angles of our mouths are thrown further out of alignment. Bruce renews our kiss, his lips gliding across mine for a quick moment before I open my own jaw to copy him. He pauses, breaking away from my lips for an instant.
I open my eyes to find him looking back at me. I see his cheeks lift and his eyes shift subtly so they reflect the smile I am sure is present below. I barely get the thought out before he comes back and kisses me again, this time capturing my lower lip between his. He gives it a gentle pull, squeezing with his lips as if trying to massage his captive. I try to match him and hold his upper lip, but he pulls away long enough to thwart my efforts. A moment later, my upper lip is his newest prisoner.
I can't help myself and a giddy giggle escapes me. Bruce pulls away, his smile bright. He straightens a little and I notice his hands, no longer idle below. He rubs my wrists with his fingers. His thumbs alternate between rubbing small arcs on the blades of my hands and small circles on their backs.
We are both silent for a few moments, contenting ourselves to simple contact in the afterglow of such a kiss. "How about another dance?" I suggest.
"Of course."
He wastes no time, pushing his chair back as he stands. As soon as he's on his feet, he leans forward and gives me a quick peck on the lips, his hands never leaving mine. I rise to my feet as well. I have a little trouble, but manage to control my impulses. I'd be tempted to give my chair a strong kick to get it out of my way, but I'm afraid of what or who it might slam into.
His right hand releases my left and we turn together towards the dance floor. Bruce lifts my hand almost to the level of our shoulders, holding it ahead of us as we make our way past the other dancers. He stops in the middle of a sizable clearing, set away from the others' paths.
With a quick turn and a sweep of his left hand, we're both in position and ready. He flashes me a smile and mine widens to answer his silent inquiry. In perfect unison, we take our first steps, our feet carrying us about the space seemingly made for us on the floor.
Our dance slowly grows more energetic. Without warning, Bruce releases my side, pulling my left hand towards the ceiling as he turns. He ducks under our joined hands and escapes the grip of my right as he steps further away.
When our arms are level and the only way he can go further is to let our hands slip apart, he tightens his grip and pulls. His hand guides me into a partial spin as I am drawn closer, my back finally landing against the left side of his chest.
I turn my head to him while we're momentarily still. I notice we're in a good position for a kiss, but before I can move, he starts moving instead. We separate and he guides me into another turn, leaving us facing one another again.
"Once more," I tell him in a soft but urging voice. The tip of my tongue darts out to wet my lips, a none too subtle hint of what I want him to repeat and why.
Bruce's smile broadens, but instead of giving me the intimacy I want, he keeps our feet moving together. He dramatically executes a turn and my heart jumps, but his grip remains firmly in place. He tricks me twice more, pretending to pull me into a spin, but staying with me and only turning us, changing our direction as we continue to dance.
My frustration begins to mount, nearly coming to a head when he finally lets me spin away. He pulls me back just as I want and I let myself lean against him when our bodies collide. I turn my head to my right to look him in the eye while his left hand finds its way to my left hip, pausing for a brief moment before traveling enticingly up my side.
His hand glides onto my shoulder, across it, and then up the side of my neck. A moment more and his hand is on my face, his thumb wrapped behind my ear, the blade of his hand perfectly aligned with the edge of my jaw, and with his fingertips on my cheek just past the corner of my mouth.
He tips his head close, moving in to kiss me. His eyes close and my focus moves to his glorious lips. My mind readies itself for the gift he's about to give and I forget myself for a moment. I refocus and I am just about to close my eyes when he stops as if frozen in time.
I furrow my brow and am torn for a few seconds between asking if something is wrong and taking charge to close the distance between our lips myself. Just before I decide, his eyes flash all the way open. His jaw follows suit and a horrible beep erupts from Bruce's mouth.
It lasts only a second, but after a second moment, it starts again. As Bruce unleashes a horrible series of beeps, I notice a buzzing from all around me. I manage to turn to the other dancers and find them all ramrod straight, but then I notice the men are vibrating in place. One of them tips over and crashes into his dance partner and another couple. The three of them begin falling in different directions like bowling pins, setting off a chain reaction amongst the buzzing men and motionless, nonresponsive women.
I begin to panic. 'This isn't my Bruce!' The unending stream of beeps from him are accompanied by a suddenly iron grip, unbending even as I begin exerting my Amazonian strength to try extricating myself from his arms. The panic fills my mind before quickly giving way to fear.
My focus dances about the room, looking for a way out of this false Bruce's grip. All the while, the buzzing and beeping continue. Suddenly, I stop, a realization dawning on me. 'An alarm!'
A quick blink and when my eyes flash open, the dance scene and all of its players have vanished. I'm staring up at steel walls and a steel ceiling, the darkness of space visible in the window over my bed. Only the beeping and buzzing continue.
I take a glance down my body for a moment, confused by the feel of my covers against my skin. I see my nudity as if exposed in patches from beneath the twisted forms of my sheet and blanket.
The unending noises from past my head seem to grow more urgent. 'That's not an alarm, it's a call!' I lift my gaze while rolling towards the bed's edge, accidentally wrapping my bedcovers further around my legs. The new arrangement ruins my attempt to throw myself out of bed and onto my feet. I fall gracelessly out of bed to land on my hands and knees on the floor.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I lift myself into the air and quickly float towards my nightstand to retrieve the offending device, my League communicator. I quickly pick it up between my thumb and middle finger. I lift it towards my ear while using my index finger to press the primary button and answer the call.
"What?" I ask with annoyance as I push the device into my ear and move my other hand towards the sheet and blanket. 'Ruined a perfectly wonderful dream!' I roll onto my back in the air and lean towards my feet while waiting for a response, taking the opportunity to begin freeing myself from my cotton bonds so I can stand on my own.
"Diana?" I stop. It's Bruce. 'My Bruce.' There's a tangible relief to the thought. "You don't sound all too happy. I didn't just wake you up, did I?"
I give a sigh. I can forgive the real Bruce for interrupting dream Bruce, but I'm going to force him make it up to me later. "Yes, but don't worry about it, Bruce." I resume my work at freeing my feet.
"Sorry." He falls silent for a few seconds. For some reason, a yawn hits me during the pause. "Hmm. Well, I did hear you were keeping late hours last night."
'The same thing he said after I spent a night touring Paris with Audrey…' I smile, not the least bit because my blanket falls to the floor, dragging my sheet with it a moment later. I pause to stand, then bend over, retrieving the deathtrap of cotton fibers to remake my bed.
"I take it Kal told you?"
"Of course. Though I came up to see if you were aboard."
"How sweet," I joke, knowing he would never have asked specifically if I was aboard when a more generalized inquiry would have accomplished the same thing and avoided inspiring any unwanted attention from the Watchtower staff. "So, what made you call?"
"I agreed to an interview in Metropolis. It's for The Daily Planet."
"The Daily Planet? Isn't that the newspaper…" I pause, a little unsure of which of Superman's names is appropriate to use in this situation.
Bruce, of course, knows where my question would have led. "Yes, but Lois Lane will be the interviewer."
"Lois Lane? The woman Superman was dating?"
"Was? I suppose Lois hinted towards that, but… Since when?"
"Hmm. At least a month or so by now. I happened to run into Superman up here on the Watchtower the day they stopped dating.
"Kal and I stopped by the commissary for iced mochas and talked on the way back to our rooms. Well, I got an iced mocha. I don't remember what Kal got, but that's not important.
"He explained that Lois had been rather frustrated by his secrecy. Of course, he told her most everything, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal his secret identity. He said that he was always afraid that the knowledge would endanger her."
Bruce gives a sharp humph over the communicator. "Sounds like a familiar argument to me…"
"Why, yes. I believe you're right, Bruce. You know, if I were to crush a gargoyle's head for every time I've heard that one…"
"Continuing on!" The urgency in Bruce's voice gets a good laugh from me in return.
"Right." I give a final chuckle before refocusing. "Well, regardless, Kal said that Lois grew tired of it. She was frustrated by what she felt was a lack of trust and faith on his part. When her frustrations peaked, she told Kal that she wanted to stop for a while. She said that she needed to cool off and could best do so without thinking about whatever existed or could exist between them."
Bruce doesn't waste a moment of silence. "And this went on for over a month?"
"Yes. Kal explained that Lois seemed content with their new arrangement. He's afraid of imposing upon her, so he hasn't pushed the topic. He doesn't let it show often, but their separation still affects him."
"Well, leave it to Superman to put someone else's happiness ahead of his own." Bruce gives a short laugh. "Going back a topic, Diana, I wanted to let you know about the interview and let you know that Lois asked for you to come as well."
A chance to go out with Bruce? "Of course, Bruce. But on one condition: I want the rest of the day to be for us." I hold my breath for a moment, trying to keep my breathing from giving away how hopeful I am.
"Sure. Just don't tell Superman what we're going to be doing today."
I blink in surprise. "Why not?"
"I...don't want all four of us in that same room just yet. If you'd like, I'll explain when I see you."
"Alright... Should I come down to Gotham now and meet you?"
"No. You just woke up, didn't you? Go ahead and take your time getting ready and having something to eat." Bruce pauses, but I wait and let him continue.
"Alfred and I are taking the private jet. I'll give you a call when we land in Metropolis and you can meet me at the airport then."
"Alright. I'll see you soon, Bruce."
"See you soon, Diana."
His farewell sounds incomplete. 'For that matter, so did mine...' I speak up again while the channel is still open. "Bruce?"
"Yes?" he asks with genuine interest.
"I love you." The words are out of my mouth almost before I complete the thought. They are such simple words, but with so profound a meaning. After so long in pursuit of this man, I have no doubt that I mean them from the bottom of my heart, but in the same stroke, they are a prompt for Bruce. Now, so far removed from our first moment of passion, they are a test of how far I have managed to draw the lonely bat from his cave.
I doubt my decision the moment the words pass between my lips. 'Is it too soon to say love so casually? He has always tried to dodge the topic. Am I pushing my luck too early?'
Bruce's silence seems to stretch on forever. A mix of worry and embarrassment begin to wash slowly over me. I begin to expect the worst. 'He's going to just hang up without saying anything...'
Depression and disappointment begin to settle in, until finally I hear a very faint voice from Bruce's end. "I advise you to stop blushing and answer, Master Bruce." Alfred, no doubt about that. I take a turn at blushing, unaware that Alfred had been listening to our conversation.
It takes a few seconds more for Bruce to compose himself. Finally, I get my answer. "I love you, too, Princess."
My heart swells larger in my chest with each of Bruce's heartfelt words. Its beating stops long enough for me to feel lightheaded. Some piece of logic in the back of my mind is screaming that the lightheadedness is a bad sign, but another part of my mind simply attributes the sensation to elation. The voice of logic is largely drowned out.
Fortunately, Bruce cuts the line. The sudden lack of extra sound shocks me back to my surroundings. My heart resumes its rhythm, albeit a little faster than normal. There's certainly no question as to why. For a short time, I am still, waiting for my heart to calm.
Finally, I turn with purpose towards the bureau near my bed. 'A day on the town with Bruce…' It occurs to me to wear something casual, so I begin going through the drawers for the makings of one of my favored civilian outfits.
The first thing I pull out is a set of underwear. The matching set of white goes on my bed. The next item I retrieve is a pair of white pants. Even after a couple years, the name "metro trousers" means little to me. They had appealed to me for the cut and fit, not the brand or style name. I set the carefully folded pants on the edge of my bed.
Following the pants to be pulled from my bureau is a short-sleeved, half-tee undershirt, colored in a white to match my pants. This last item in white goes beside the pants on my bed. After the shirt, I move to the closet. At the opposite end of my closet from my dresses and formal attire are a few casual items. Hanging from a hook in the wall is a black belt. I wrap it around itself a few times and toss it towards the bed. The last item I retrieve is a cropped jacket. It's blue, a few shades darker than my eyes, it has long sleeves to hide my bracelets, and is made of denim, perhaps one of the most ubiquitous types of cotton-based fabric in all of Man's World.
Leaving my clothing to wait on my bed for me, I duck into the bathroom for a shower. I take the time to meticulously clean myself. It's for all the usual reasons, but I have an extra reason today; a part of me hopes Lois will have someone take a photograph of me with Bruce.
After a short while spent drying myself off, I head back out into my bedroom to dress. I lift my bracelets from atop my bureau, the only piece of my armor I plan to wear. As I put my clothing on, the idea of having a photograph taken of Bruce and I returns to my thoughts. 'It would certainly be nice to have one taken. Having a copy here would add a new and welcome personal touch to my room. It might be good for both of us, too. Photographic proof of us as a couple would help rid each of us of our more...hopeful admirers.' Of course, I'm thinking more about Bruce's admirers than any I might have.
When I am fully dressed, I fetch one last item, an accessory to complete my outfit. I return to my bureau and open the long but small, store-bought box atop it. I reach in and grab the gold chain of my pendant necklace. As I lift it out, the tip of the ruby scrapes along the bottom packaging before finally coming free and swinging below my hand.
With a careful grip, I unclasp the necklace chain. I lift the ends to my neck and reconnect them behind it. The chain in place, I bring my left hand back around to the pendant, centering it, letting it hang just below the dip of my collarbone.
While adjusting the pendant, I return for a moment to the bathroom. I close the door to give myself an appraising look in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. After a moment, I give myself an approving smile, then reopen the door and leave my room behind.
'I'm not sure how much time I have left. I hope I'll have enough time to eat.' Bruce has access to some of the best technology on the planet. The Batwing is certainly outfitted with top-of-the-line equipment. The Javelins are as well, but something tells me he designed them to be a step behind the Batwing's performance. The same probably goes for his private jet.
All the same, Gotham and Metropolis aren't entirely too far apart. 'I might end up only grabbing a quick bite to go from the commissary,' I predict before stepping onto the elevator.
After a short trip on the elevator and a few minutes navigating hallways, I reach the commissary. My casual dress attracts a lot of attention, but most of my colleagues and the Watchtower staff return to their own business soon after. Noting a few of the faces that follow me, I make my way through the sea of tables and into the kitchen.
My first priority is the greatest concoction in all of Man's World, an iced mocha. A few of us in the League—and especially the founding members—have well-known preferences for food and drink. For months, the kitchen staff have been anticipating our wants, preparing food for us before we arrive to keep us from waiting. I count myself among those so appeased.
I exchange pleasantries with a young staffer named Susan. She hands me my iced mocha for the morning. Susan, when she first arrived a month and a half ago, was already so star struck to see me walk up to her station that when Superman and Flash approached, she had dropped my drink. It was probably a good thing Bruce hadn't been there to see it, but I wasn't angry. Saddened by the waste, of course, but mostly sympathetic to the poor girl's embarrassing mishap.
I turn away after bidding her farewell, then move to another counter, a self-serve station with tray after tray of assorted breakfast foods, the makings of any number of international meals, many kept ready by heating lamps hanging overhead.
Sure that Bruce would call the moment I finish making anything involved enough to require additional cooking, I grab a few slices of bread and butter them. I put them on the small plate I grabbed on my way into the kitchen and pick it and my mocha back up, returning to the tables to sit down.
The breakfast crowd is present in full force. None of the tables are empty and most are occupied by small groups of close friends or partners. There is one lone Leaguer sitting at a table, Shayera Hol. Our mission in Tartarus had done a lot to mend our friendship, but sometimes doubts and issues of trust have persisted. Not necessarily between she and I, but with the founders as a whole. She hadn't been included in Doomsday's trial, despite being involved in our meetings about CADMUS itself before and since.
It's just as well that she wasn't there, though. Aside from J'onn, the rest of us had merely been present for the monster's trial. Revisiting the conversation in private, it dawned on me that Bruce's warning to Kal had been correct. He had acted as judge, jury, and executioner in sending Doomsday to the Phantom Zone. It was too dangerous, too obsessed with killing Kal to have left it anywhere it might escape from, but I don't know what other choices we had but to banish it or kill it.
With the conclusion of the thoughts, I come to a stop beside Shayera, pausing for a moment, letting her interpret my intent. She picks it up quickly. "Diana."
"Shayera," I reply as I sit opposite her at the table.
"Dressed for a day about town, I see. Where to?"
"Metropolis." I lift a slice of bread and begin eating it from one corner.
"Metropolis? Why not Gotham? I thought things were finally starting to get serious."
I switch, lowering my bread and taking a quick sip of my mocha. "No, you're right. I'm meeting Bruce in Metropolis. He's flying there now. He should be calling from the airport before long."
"I see. So, have the two of you been together for long? I only heard about it from the buzz in all the gossip rags." Shayera pauses, leaning back and shaking her head while looking towards the ceiling. "You'd be surprised who reads that crap and who I've heard about it from."
"No," I answer as she finishes her side-comment. "That was our first date." I pause, taking a few more bites of my bread. "Why do you say that, though? Who told you about it?"
"You know, I get a lot of candid questions about the seven of us."
She would get them for good reason. Her status while this second Watchtower was being constructed left any sort of accommodations for her out of the blueprints. Her readmittance into the League had left her with one of the regular rooms on a regular floor, despite eventually earning her status as a founder back. In a way, her situation had left her as something of an ambassador for the seven founders to the rest of the League. Questions, suggestions, and complaints meant for the whole of the founders' council usually find their way to us through Shayera.
"It only took a couple hours after the news hit for it to reach the Watchtower. I think some staffers brought the news up on a shift change. A few people have caught me to ask about it since. Steel, for one. Question asked as well, but he was more interested in the restaurant you ate at. Arrow, too. He mentioned hearing something about it from Black Canary."
"I guess news travels fast."
"When the Princess of the man-hating Amazons falls in love with a man, it's big news. When a womanizing playboy billionaire starts to settle down with just one woman, it's big news. Put the two together and you just might keep Superman off the front page until Darkseid comes back again to invade Earth."
"Don't jinx it," I reply before we share a good, hearty laugh. When we quiet, we return to our meals. Shayera finishes the last of her croissant roll and I finish off my first slice of bread. I begin eating my second slice while she slides her plate away, giving herself room to rest her forearms against the table, her coffee cup held between her palms.
I open my mouth to ask her about John. Before I can form words, there is a quick beep in my ear. I pause as I bring my right hand up to answer. "This is Wonder Woman. Go ahead." No one else around me is being called. It's a sure bet that it's Bruce calling, but better to be safe than embarrass myself assuming anything.
"Diana, it's me." Bruce, as I hoped. "We just finished taxiing. Alfred is getting a rental and left me to wait with the jet."
"Alright, Bruce. I'll be in Metropolis in a few minutes. See you soon."
"Until then, Princess."
Another beep and Bruce closes the channel. I look over at Shayera. There is a wry smile on her lips that puts me on the defensive. "What?"
"Listening to you, he seems about as warm without the tights as with them."
"He's very affectionate!" I defend, "He's just…it means more to me when I have to work a little more to hear it from him."
I stand to leave, but Shayera laughs before she keeps talking. "I think you've worked hard enough. For as long you've been trying to get his attention, he should be following you up and down the halls shouting it for all the world to hear as you walk."
I stop, looking askance to her for a moment. 'Bruce wouldn't be Bruce if he did something like that.'
"Relax, Diana," Shayera tells me, trying to suppress laughter. She was joking. "Go. Have fun today. I'm sure I'll be hearing about it soon."
"Yes. I'm sure you will as well." I smile. 'She certainly will hear. Whatever comes from Lois's interview will probably make it all around the Watchtower by the end of the week.' I have to admit a bit of nervousness about that, but at the same time, there's a small part of me excitedly anxious about the prospect of such public and open recognition from Bruce.
I turn, waving a farewell to Shayera with my right hand and about the half slice of bread still pinched between my thumb and forefinger. As I leave the commissary, I quickly finish the rest of the bread before washing it down with a few sips of my iced mocha.
By the time I reach the transporter deck, I have only half of my mocha left. I walk over to the control technician's station with a bright smile on my face. "Metropolis International Airport, please."
"Coming right up, Wonder Woman."
I thank the technician and approach the transporter pads. The pads hum to life as I step up onto them. A few flashes of light before the Watchtower disappears, its sights and sounds replaced by the roof of a terminal building at the airport.
I take a moment to look around. I see plenty of airplanes, both taxiing and parked, but I can't see Bruce. I don't see anything to distinguish his jet from the others either. Flying around aimlessly won't help me find him. I lift my hand again to my communicator.
"Bruce. I'm down. Looks like I'm on the top of one of the terminal buildings." I pause a moment, checking behind me. "It looks like the main terminal. The parking loop is behind me."
"Good timing. Alfred just pulled up." A short pause. "We're to your east. Follow the runway. I'll have Alfred hit the horn if we see you first. Three short beeps, Princess."
"Got it," I reply while lifting myself into the air.
After turning east, I fly parallel to the runway. I pass over plane after plane, the terminal buildings extending out alongside them. When I am nearing the end of the line, I finally hear it, the three quick F notes I've been waiting for. It only surprises me to hear them coming from behind me.
I turn around in mid-air and look back to see Bruce. Beside him is the limo, Alfred just stepping out to stand next to him. Behind the limo is the private jet. I take a momentary look at the plane while dropping down towards them. I must have been looking the other way while passing overhead, the Wayne Enterprises logo is very clear on the jet's tail.
"It's good to see you again, Miss Diana," Alfred greets the moment my feet are on the ground.
"Thank you, Alfred. I'm glad to see you again so soon as well." I turn from Alfred. "Good morning, Bruce."
"Diana. Good morning. Shall we?" He and Alfred are all smiles as Bruce opens the door for me, stepping out of the way towards the rear of the rental vehicle. As he steps aside, Alfred turns, gripping the door with one hand and again offering me his other one to help me into the car.
Once more, I cannot bring myself to disappoint Alfred. I let him guide me into the car and slide to the passenger side, giving Bruce room to sit beside me. I watch as the pattern from our date plays the rest of the way out, Bruce sitting down, Alfred closing the rear door before finally getting back in himself.
We quickly leave the airport. Once we're on the road, I turn to Bruce. "So, Bruce, do you come here very often?"
"No. There's little reason for me to. I've had a few business dealings that have brought me to town. I've had to chase a few of Arkham's finest here as well, but generally, I stick to Gotham. Business brings me all over the world, though."
"So why didn't you want me to tell Superman I was coming to Metropolis with you?"
"Because Lois would kill me if I let anyone else in on her byline."
"Are bylines that important?"
"They are to reporters." He gives a smirk and I reply with an understanding smile, sure he is talking about Kal.
The friction between Bruce and Kal had always been a little amusing to me. Their crime fighting methods are in so many ways opposite, yet both men are equally effective in their hometowns. Kal has had no trouble adapting his methods to fighting on a global scale, but Bruce has had no shortage of luck in the same regard. Our mission together through Paris and Kasnia is only one of many pieces of evidence lending to that.
"Any idea what Lois will ask us about?"
"Aside from us?" Bruce asks. I nod. "No idea. She'll probably ask me a little about Wayne Enterprises or some charity I've donated to recently and ask you about the League."
"Anything I should avoid?"
"Batman and me or Batman and Gotham in the same sentence, if at all possible. Reporters like to record their interviews for reference."
"Alright." I think for a moment. An idea comes to me. I look to Alfred in the front seat. "On one condition," I tell Bruce with an almost toothless grin.
Bruce's expression shifts, becoming a little apprehensive. "What?"
My grin fades as I glance back towards the front seat, seeing that Alfred is as perceptive as I expected, the opaque dividing window is nearly closed. I turn in my seat, swinging my knees closer to Bruce's and turning my upper body to face him. I lean closer and put my right hand on his thigh just above his knee. I tip my head a bit to my right, then loosen my jaw just enough for my lips to part, barely enough to be suggestive.
Bruce catches on immediately. His lips broaden into a wide smile of understanding as he begins leaning to meet me over the middle of the seat. His right hand cups the left side of my jaw just moments before he presses his lips to mine. He slides his hand further back, his fingers weaving their way into my hair as our kiss grows quickly more passionate.
I work to match what feels like a hunger on Bruce's lips even as I feel his left hand on the back of my right, itself now tightly gripping his thigh. His hand travels up onto my sleeve, gliding over the fabric with just enough pressure so I am always aware of its progress. Finally, he reaches my shoulder and his hand settles there. As if to answer the movement, I pull my left arm from its place between the seat and my side, then lift it to Bruce's shoulder. I rest my hand atop it, then slide it closer to his neck, climbing first my thumb, then my index, middle, and ring fingers up its side.
Our lips move nearly in unison. I can't help but notice that Bruce is leading, but I likewise can't bring myself to see anything wrong with that. I feel his jaw opening slightly and I follow suit. A moment later, he tips his head to his left until the sides of our noses are pressed together. Our lips almost level, Bruce closes his mouth quickly, but a moment before he closes his lips over my upper lip, I feel something else with its own distinct texture and flavor against the underside of my lip. The sensation shocks me for a moment. The lightness floating about my mind from our kiss spreads at the sensation, moving faster when he gently pulls at my lip. When he draws the object beneath my lip away and replaces it with the familiar feel of his lower lip, I finally figure it out. It was his tongue.
'I had no idea a tongue could be used like that,' I think to myself. As Bruce switches to take my lower lip, I consider what I can do in return. The moment he gives a little tug, an idea comes to me. Quickly, I reach towards his upper lip with the tip of my tongue, giving his lip a playful flick right in the middle before running the soft tip back and forth along the tiny crevice between the underside of his upper lip and the top of my lower lip.
When I pull my tongue back, Bruce gives my lip a gentle squeeze before pulling away and opening his eyes. I look to him as well while thinking about the little taste I just got of his lip. The surprise is clear all across his expression. My lips spread into a self-satisfied smile.
"Don't tell me I caught the Detective off guard…" I jest in an almost sultry tone.
He flashes me a quick grin. "No comment."
He begins to close his eyes and lean closer when the car rocks forward and comes to a stop. I've noticed the sensation a couple times before, but this stop feels a little more exaggerated, more telling. I see that Bruce noticed as well. I can't help the sensation of loss when he pulls his right hand from my face, his fingers gradually pulling away from my hair.
The car shifts a moment later. Alfred is getting out. I see part of his body come into view through the window in the door on Bruce's side of the car. We must have arrived at the Daily Planet. Either that or a meteorite was landing nearby and we needed to get out of the car now. 'No, he would have stopped the car more abruptly if that were the case.'
Alfred opens the door after a moment, pausing to give us the chance to untangle our arms. "Here we are, sir, ma'am. The Daily Planet."
"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce replies as he climbs out ahead of me. I have to admit to myself that I'm a little annoyed that we didn't have more time in the car, but Bruce's tone doesn't give me any evidence that he is thinking anything similar. In the same stroke, I realize it was inevitable. We couldn't expect to have long. I shouldn't have expected to have longer.
I slide across the seats after Bruce. Once again, I let Bruce's surrogate father help me to my feet. When I am on my feet and away from the car door, Bruce steps up on my left side and hooks his right arm around my left. Alfred closes the door behind us and turns to Bruce for a moment, waiting to see if his charge has any special instructions.
"I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but we'll be about town after the interview. I don't think I'll need a change of clothing today, Alfred. Go ahead and check in at the Metropolis Grande Hotel. Relax, indulge yourself as much as you would like. I'll give you a call if anything happens or we need to be picked up."
"Very good, sir," Alfred replies. His expression barely changes, but I notice a slight lift in the corners of his mouth. "I shall consider it a vacation, Master Bruce."
"As I intended it. We'll see you this evening, Alfred."
"Then I shan't keep you any longer. Enjoy your day, Master Bruce, Miss Diana."
"Thank you, Alfred. To you as well," I reply once Bruce has replied with an appreciative nod.
As Alfred gets back into the rented vehicle, Bruce and I turn towards the array of glass doors that make up the main entrance to the Daily Planet building. I look up to the top of the building, see the edge of the giant globe that makes the newspaper headquarters so iconic. It's an impressive sight even from the ground.
Bruce pulls me from my reverie with a simple question. "Shall we, Princess?"
I turn my head to him, nod as a small wave of embarrassment washes over me. I'm happy that it passes quickly, after only a few steps towards the doors, replaced again by the sense of normalcy, the sensation of belonging akin to what I felt in Gotham. I relax and look around, but that's when I start to notice the looks people are giving us. Many of the men coming out of the building and walking by in both directions on the sidewalk leer at me. Their gaze shifts to Bruce and a few shake their heads before averting their gaze. Some keep staring.
I look to the women and see something similar. Most of the women spot Bruce, a select few nearly swooning over the sight of him. I see flashes of recognition in some of their eyes. In each case, it isn't long after that the women turn to me with an appraising glance. Many turn away, hopes dashed. Too few. Anger flashes across many more faces. Too many are touched by jealousy.
The sight is disappointing. Angering. 'Is this what the society of Man's World makes women do to one another?' It's contemptible.
Bruce leads me in the doors even as I seethe. The grand, open lobby does not impress me as my thoughts stew. The elevator ride goes by nearly unnoticed as my anger fades, replaced by various trains of thought, all looking for the same end, a solution—or at least something to try.
Bruce is leading me across a floor when I come fully back to my surroundings. We eventually wade into a grid of desks, seating easily more than a few dozen reporters. We come to a stop bedside a woman typing furiously at her workstation. 'This must be Lois Lane,' I say to myself while noticing her hair is very much like my own.
She notices Bruce's shadow on the corner of the desk. "Is that you, Smallville? Thought you were going back to Kansas for the day."
'Smallville? Isn't that the town Kal said he grew up in?'
"He did, I'm sure," Bruce answers. It isn't a total lie. Kal had taken the morning off because of an unexpected change in the monitor duty schedule. The later afternoon and evening he was planning to spend at home visiting his family.
Lois begins turning towards us. "What do you—Oh! Bruce! What a surprise! You're here earlier than I was expecting. Wonder Woman, I'm glad you could come, too."
"Please, call me Diana." I extend my right hand for a polite handshake. She reaches out to take it after a moment. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Lane. I've heard a lot about you from Superman."
She gives a little grimace, freezing up for a moment. "Nothing too unflattering of late, I hope." Her expression is pleading, trusting me not to reply too bluntly if she's right.
"No, of course not. He always speaks very highly of you, Miss Lane."
Lois visibly relaxes. "Glad to hear it, but please, just 'Lois' is fine. I have to say, in all the years I've known Superman, I'm surprised I've never met you before. Then again, I haven't met many of you superhero types. You don't frequent the Metro Tower, do you?"
"No, I spend most of my time outside of missions aboard the Watchtower."
I feel a squeeze on my left hand. I turn down to notice that sometime in our walk through the building, Bruce had unhooked our arms in favor of simply holding my hand. I look up to his face just before he clears his throat loudly and speaks. "Not to sound uncomfortable, ladies, but perhaps there's a better place to conduct our interview."
"Yeah. Let me just get a pad and my recorder." Lois turns back to her desk and turns her computer monitor off with one hand while pulling her notepad and a pen to the front edge of her desk. With both hands, she then moves a large notebook aside to reveal the tape recorder beneath it. She picks the three items up and stands.
Turning to the two of us, Lois motions to her right with her thumb. "Alright. We can use one of the conference rooms."
Lois leads us the rest of the way across the room. Ahead of us is an array of half a dozen doors. They all appear to be for conference rooms. Four of them are occupied, with a fifth and sixth free, their doors slightly ajar.
Lois opens one of the doors and steps aside to let us through. "Go ahead and pick a side," she tells us. Bruce points to the middle two of the four chairs on the far side of the conference table in the center of the rectangular room. I can't help but notice that the side he picked has us facing the windows and with only a few short feet between where we will sit and the wall. 'So we—or rather he—can watch the room's sole exit.'
As Bruce follows me to a seat and sits to my left, Lois sets her things down on the opposite side of the conference table and then sits down. I turn to Bruce and see him casting a look of assessment around the room.
Lois sits down and I ask a question that's been on my mind for a while now. "So, Lois, what sort of things are you looking to ask us?"
She pauses for a moment and folds her arms with her elbows on the table. "Well, I read in the Gotham Globe, the Gotham Times, the Gotham Star, and even saw on Gotham Insider that Bruce here had been seen on a date that had nothing to do with a charity or any other sort of public event. Of course, the most newsworthy bit of news was that his date was Wonder Woman. I called to see if I get the first interview for the Daily Planet."
Curiosity nags at me. "How do you know Bruce?"
The subject of our little back and forth conversation stiffens beside me. "We met way back before there was even a Justice League. Bruce came to Metropolis to oversee progress on a business deal between Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp."
"LexCorp? You were doing business with Luthor?" The mere notion seems ludicrous.
"The deal was legitimate. Our research teams collaborated to design and build an unmanned explorer," Bruce defends. "It was meant to revolutionize unmanned space exploration, but I suspected Luthor would try to go behind my back on it from the outset, so I built it into the contract so that all technology applications required my preapproval."
"Yeah, well, that didn't stop Luthor and the Joker from weaponizing them..." Lois says with contempt.
"The Joker was here, too?" The news quells any questions I had about Bruce's sense over dealing with Luthor. 'He probably only came to Metropolis to chase after Joker.' I refrain from asking Bruce to confirm that detail with Lois here.
"Yeah. Probably would have killed Superman if not for some timely intervention from the Batman." There's an edge of scorn to Lois's tone at the name. "Now, we've delayed long enough. Let's go ahead and get started."
Bruce relaxes in tone and posture when Lois presses the record button on the tape recorder. "So, Miss Lane, what would you like to know?" he asks for the recorder, his tone a flippancy to match his public persona.
"Well, I have a few questions for you. We'll start with the easy questions and see where the conversation goes. If you haven't answered everything by the end, I'll run through what's left. Now, first up: are the rumors true, are the two of you seeing each other?"
Bruce turns to me with a smile. He does a small circular motion in the air with his fingers, offering me free reign to answer. "Yes, though since only very recently."
"You were spotted at an Italian restaurant in Gotham just a few evenings ago. Is it safe to assume that was your first public date?"
"Yes," I reply again, "In fact, it was our first date."
"Oh, really? Sources tell me you arrived and left sharing a car. So, then, where did you meet?"
"We met at Wayne Manor and said our farewells for the evening there as well." Lois lifts an eyebrow. Clearly Bruce did not give her the answer she was looking for.
I take my turn. "I first met Bruce at an event in Paris a few years ago. He pulled me aside for a dance, but we were…interrupted."
"Yeah, I remember that one. Kasnian separatists trying to kidnap the princess, right?" I nod in response and Lois continues, "If I remember right, you and Batman ended up chasing them all the way to Kasnia. You lit off some pretty big fireworks that day. Heard you crashed the princess's wedding to Vandal Savage III with a tank." Again there's something pointed about the way she says 'Batman.'
"Not 'the third.' He was the original Savage. He's an immortal, power-crazed despot waiting for another chance to rule."
I'm about to tell Lois that the League has kept a special eye on Savage ever since, but Bruce cuts in before I can get any more angry about him. "Before Diana thwarted the kidnapping, we promised to finish our dance." I nearly laugh at that. "It was only recently that we contacted one another about it. I invited her to dinner at Gotham Delizioso and the rest seems to be a matter of public record." At least that part is true.
"I take it you took the opportunity to finish the dance." It's not quite a question. She doesn't give us the time to answer either way. She leans forward, quickly reaching for the recorder's pause button. "Ok, I can't do this any longer. Diana, how could you ever put up with him at night?"
The emphasis tips me off and everything clicks in my mind. 'She knows! How could she know?' I turn to give Bruce an incredulous look. He must have let it happen somehow.
"Yes," he groans in knowing reply to me, leaning forward and resting his forehead in his palm. Bruce reaches into his pocket for a moment with his other hand.
"I caught Joker by the docks. He set a Wayne-Lex T-7 prototype after me and it chased me across Metropolis. I ended up in the Daily Planet building and Lois was in the office. I took her down a few floors and we ended up ducking into a printing room. The T-7 forced me back and my cape caught between the rollers of one of the presses."
Now I understand why Lois knows, but it still leaves her choice of words in question. I feel an odd sense of worry in the pit of my stomach. "What did you mean?" I ask Lois.
She shrinks at the question, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her stomach. "We…dated while Bruce was in town," she admits, looking at the table as she speaks.
Pain erupts in my gut as I whip my head around to look Bruce in the eye. A mix of anger and jealousy take root in my heart. In my head, a small part of me wants to laugh that Bruce beat Kal to dating Lois. Most of me wants to know—wants to demand that Bruce tell me why he hadn't told me beforehand. 'Did he want me to find out like this?'
Lois sighs before looking up. I'm glad for the reason to look away from Bruce, but the alternative suddenly isn't any much better. "I ended it after I found out. There have always been a lot of bad rumors about Bruce and about Gotham's crime and…shadows. I couldn't bring myself to be any more involved than I already was. Even that was too much."
She spends a short time mulling over the words. "The understanding and willingness to accept it all must come easier with colleagues," she says dejectedly.
I almost snort trying to hold back laughter. The explanation relieved a lot of my worries and my anger, but the last comment is nearly too ironic. I turn to Bruce and the laughter escapes me at the sight of his confusion.
"Are you kidding, Lois? Bruce, let me know if any of this sounds familiar." Lois looks up from the table and Bruce starts to shake his head in warning disapproval. I lower my voice, trying to imitate his. "One: dating within the team always leads to disaster."
"Diana."
I laugh at Bruce again. "Alright, sure. I've had my fun. There were two more, but I'll stop there." I turn back to Lois with the smile still on my face.
She tries to smile back, but it seems a little dry. "Well, I'm glad to see you worked it out." If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a hint of envy in her voice.
I try to analyze her tone for a moment. 'She must regret leaving Kal.'
Bruce then cuts in again, "Sorry, Lois, but would you like to continue the interview?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry to spring that on you, Diana. I just had to ask."
I pause before answering. "It's fine. I understand."
She presses the pause button to resume the recording. "So, how far do you see your relationship going?" There's a touch of need to her question.
Bruce beats me to an answer, once more speaking in the lighter tones of his public self. "Not quite sure. We'll have to see how things go after today. We're going to spend the rest of the day together after this. I've never really taken the time to sightsee in Metropolis and thought that Diana and I could have some fun doing it together."
Lois takes a few notes, checking off a question at the top of her notepad page and flipping to the next one. "Alright, Diana, here's one for you: how is this news going to go over back home?"
I stop, sitting straight in my chair for a moment as my mind replays Lois's question, wishing it were something else. I've been avoiding having Mother, my sisters, and Bruce in the same train of thought for a long time. What I want with Bruce generally ignores my past. I hesitate for a few moments even after opening my mouth to answer, but I still feel compelled to answer truthfully. "I…don't think Mother will approve."
I reach over towards Bruce beneath the table. My hand finds his and I take it, letting our fingers interlock before he gives my hands a squeeze. "But it is my decision to make and I will not change my mind," I add in a firm voice. 'I only hope Mother can be understanding.'
Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.