Author's Note: Well, managed to keep the length under better control. Please enjoy. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

A sudden realization. 'I haven't thought this in months…' I pause, closing my eyes for a little longer than necessary. When I open them, the crosswalk across from us still hasn't changed.

Normally, I only have these thoughts all at once, each year on the anniversary of the day I stopped living life for myself. Every year I allow myself a moment to remember how tired I am, to remember that I once led a normal life. In my greatest moments of weakness, I've even told myself that the war will go on just the same with or without me.

Now, here I am, in the middle of Metropolis, wondering once more if it's worth it to keep fighting. Usually, it's a matter of effectiveness, a problem of the revolving doors that see the justice system releasing those I lock away so quickly after capture. Only once before have I come this close to abandoning the mission for the sake of my own happiness. At the time, I had no idea what I was truly embarking upon when I almost gave up everything for Andrea Beaumont.

The children who made their way to me over the years have found purpose in my war. I gave two young men the guidance and tools necessary to help me mend the city that stole parents from each of us. I gave a young woman the training to protect her father and the city she loves.

But how much longer must I keep fighting? Do I stop when my body gives out? Do I find ways to push on, even then? Do I hold back, endeavoring to survive the war? Do I ensure the mission continues on as a philanthropic campaign?

I take special note of the warm hand affectionately holding my own. I give it a quick squeeze before rubbing my thumb against its back. I look down to our joined hands, then glance to my right, looking up to face the Princess of the Amazons.

Diana turns from the crosswalk signal, gifts me with a beautiful smile and copies my action, rubbing her thumb against my hand. I smile, once more imagining the tender scenes of a future with this woman, with this happiness and satisfaction as constants in my life. The thought is enthralling.

The realization that the Batman might not live long enough for Bruce Wayne to see old age is suddenly a more difficult pill to swallow. More and more, I want Diana for myself—to be the one person in the world she shares her heart with and her, the one person I share mine with, both for my own happiness and for hers. The idea of dying as Batman while loving Diana is gut-wrenching. I know better than most what it feels like for murder to steal a loved one. How can I make Diana shoulder that pain if I become a casualty of my own war?

'How ironic that the one woman I am now willing to give up being Batman for is also the one woman who would never ask me to make that choice.' I turn to Diana, as if she had heard my thoughts, as if she might have advice for me. I can't even imagine her suggesting my retirement until my mind can no longer compensate for my body's age.

Still, how would I ever give it up? I haven't thought of myself as Bruce Wayne in years. My parents were Waynes. I was a Wayne. Now, the Bruce Wayne the world sees is a shell, an apparition waiting for the opportunity or necessity to transform back into the Batman. 'And I await the time when the city of Gotham no longer needs my flavor of protection, the day when I can finally shed the mantle and be Bruce Wayne once and for all.'

The crowd begins to move, surging forward as the signal finally lets us cross. Diana takes her first step a moment before me. Luckily, she doesn't make a note of my delay.

'Maybe it's the atmosphere...' Metropolis is so different from Gotham. It's cleaner and brighter, as if to hide evidence of Superman's personal war. They fear wanton destruction here, not unpredictable lunacy. These people look to the sky for rescue, not the shadows. Maybe the ambiance here is what's making me want change.

'No! That's naive.' It's Diana who is making me think like this. My stated reasons against us resurface in my mind. This is what I was wary of, my heart compromising the mission. I need to let go. I need to step back, control myself, and take command of the situation. I need to reaffirm the mission and remember what I am, what I need to be for my city.

Even as the thoughts run through my mind, even as I tell myself to, I can't bring myself to release Diana's hand. If anything, my muscles lock into place, gripping her more firmly, but no more tightly.

Her free arm crosses in front of my chest and she points past me to my left. "How about a quick stop in there, Bruce?"

I barely look for longer than it takes to know she pointed out a coffee shop. "Sure." I'm all smiles when I turn back to her, my train of objecting thoughts halted the moment Diana plants her hopeful, eager smile in my mind.

We enter the little hole in the wall shop. I miss the name on the way inside. My focus is on Diana, my thoughts even when not my gaze.

We join the short line for the register and only have to wait for a middle-aged man and a young couple ahead of us. Before I know it, I'm trading a few dollars for an espresso and the iced mocha Diana is already beside me taking the first sip of. I pocket my change the moment the cashier drops it into my palm, then turn to Diana. She flashes me a bright, appreciative smile that's all the thanks I could want and we move out of the way for the next customer in line.

The shop is populated by tiny, round tables along the windows and a large handful of old-fashioned booths in the middle of the room. We take one of the empty tables, setting our cups down on its nearly two foot surface.

A short silence settles over us once we seat ourselves. "So, Bruce," Diana soon begins, turning to look out the window, "what do you think of it here?" I can see the curiosity in her eyes, in the light smile on her lips.

The question catches me by surprise. "You mean in Metropolis?" She nods, still looking outside. I turn to join her, looking out at the passersby. The people walking by seem to have not a worry in the world. Superman will protect them, they know it. Even in his absence, they feel secure with the knowledge that he will protect them. "I wish I could make Gotham feel like here." It's almost a whisper, but Diana has no trouble hearing.

Her reaction surprises me more than her initial question. She whips her head back to look at me, straightening in her chair at the same time. Her sudden movement yanks my attention back from the window. She's looking at me like I just struck her face with a wet fish.

"Don't!" she finally exclaims, lifting her hands to tightly grip the table's edge.

"What do you mean?" My tone comes off more accusatory than I intended. 'Does she hope the people of Gotham will never know safety? That my war will never end?'

"Gotham doesn't need this. It's perfect the way it is." My expression hardens. Diana lifts a hand to keep me from interrupting. "I want to see crime in Gotham snuffed out as much as you, but...Gotham has a different life to it than Metropolis. A different allure. A different beauty."

I try to consider her meaning. Diana doesn't give me long to try before continuing. "The other night, on the way to Gotham Delizioso, I spent the whole time looking out the window at the scenery and the city. I had never really seen Gotham before, not from the ground, not the way its people see it every day. Everywhere I looked, the people of Gotham seem so...vivacious. More so than I would have ever expected."

My expression softens at Diana's words. She almost seems to mean that I'm winning my war. I extend my free hand towards her. She takes it without hesitation.

Hearing her perspective, I can't help but think she's right. Gotham's elite certainly hold enough functions and parties for Bruce Wayne to stay in the public eye. They are predominantly happy affairs. Veronica Vreeland even used Penguin as a rather awkward party attraction. They seemed happy about it until he turned on them.

Aside from the elite, my time spent undercover as Gaff Morgan, Matches Malone, and my other personalities has introduced me to well-to-do people in all levels of Gotham's social strata. There is certainly an abundance of gaiety throughout Gotham, but it's simply never been my focus or concern while stalking the city's rooftops.

Finally, I respond to Diana with a nod. She's right. Metropolis is Metropolis and Gotham is Gotham. There's nothing wrong with that. Nearly unbidden, Penguin and Harley come to mind. "Well, at least some of Gotham's worst try to clean up their acts from time to time. Can't say I'd rather have someone like Metallo in Gotham."

Diana laughs for a moment. I smile back. 'That joy, Diana's happiness. That's something I would fight for.'

I pause for a few moments, reassessing my earlier thoughts. I had had always figured matters of the heart would be a distraction. I had thought them a source of pain for people around me, the very people I might love. Maybe if not for Joker and her father, I could have learned different from Andrea. Maybe if not for Ra's, I could have learned from Talia. Maybe even Selina if she could commit herself to reform.

Listening to Diana now, watching her, I can see what love is doing for her, not to her. Faced with it, I can only ask myself with more hope than I may have ever allowed, 'Can I be as happy? As open? Could love be a reason to fight rather than fighting being a reason not to love?' Sitting here, like this with Diana, I feel like the answer can be yes. But more than anything, I'm glad that if anyone is going to teach me the value of the heart, it's going to be her.

My thoughts allow another silence to befall us, one Diana eventually cannot stand to continue. "So...Lois is nice, isn't she?" I can't be surprised that she would ask. Still, how do I answer? Her tone is sincere, she certainly seems merely curious for my opinion, but this sounds like a loaded question if ever I've heard one.

"Sorry, Diana. I didn't mean for that to happen."

I see a flash of anger before she masks it. "Then why couldn't you have told me?" She keeps the anger from her tone, but lets an unmistakable anguish color her words.

There's no use holding back an answer. It wouldn't do me any good with Diana, certainly. "I didn't want it to come up. When she called, Lois said she wanted to see us, you and I together. She wanted to be able to move on."

"What do you mean? That she still had feelings for you?"

I nod solemnly. "But she never wanted to be part of my world. I buried whatever I held for her when I left Metropolis. I knew it couldn't work out."

Diana is silent for a few minutes. She takes a sip of her mocha, then laughs a dry laugh. "I don't know whether to be happy or angry with you."

She lowers her cup to the table. "Thank you for explaining it to me, but from now on, I would rather know about your past romances before I meet the women."

"Deal."

"Now, Bruce, I want you to promise me an honest answer." I look on for a few moments in confusion, then nod. "Did you try to bury what you felt for me?"

'Why did you have to ask that?' I turn towards the window, looking out into the sunlight. I close my eyes in shame. "Yes," I whisper. I turn my head back. "But every time I saw you, I had to start all over again.

"When I watched you turn away, finally resigning yourself of me, I realized I would never succeed. Alone, I didn't know what to do, how to stop you, if I should have stopped you at all. If not for Alfred, I would have let you walk away." I open my eyes, lifting my chin and gaze, ignoring the emotion on Diana's face just long enough to look her directly in the eye and finish, "And I would have regretted it for the rest of my life."

I watch Diana's expression soften. Finally, she smiles. She takes another sip of her mocha, longer this time. "So I guess I wasn't a monster you were trying to avoid."

I shake my head twice slowly. "No, Diana. Not at all.

"I've…had a lot of bad experience falling in love. I was avoiding the reminder that I couldn't put you behind me." I give her a smile and add in jest, "You're a hard woman to deny, Diana."

Diana hums a laugh. She folds her arms and puts her elbows on the edge of the table. Then she leans out over her arms with a smile, almost a smirk on her lips. "Haven't you heard, Bruce?" She drops her voice to a soft, almost sensual whisper. "I am Diana, Princess of the Amazons. I won't be denied…"

Her eyes close. Her request is clear. I reach across the table, cupping my hands around her upper arms. I lean in until the tip of my nose touches hers. After, I move to the side a little before leaning in, our noses brushing alongside one another as our lips near.

I want her to feel every little movement as I get ever closer, slowing until I'm barely moving, my gentle breathes the only thing to warm her lips. A tiny noise escapes from between her waiting lips, something halfway between a hum and a moan of desire and urging. I tip my chin closer, grant her the lightest, briefest of brushes with my lips upon hers.

When Diana presses her lips back towards mine, clearly unsatisfied with a quick brush, I pull away and smile. I hold the smile firm on my lips even as Diana catches up. She tries to kiss me, but stops at my unresponsiveness. She opens her eyes and begins pulling back, confused and clearly about to question my behavior. I choose this moment to lean in again.

I slip my hands past her arms, settling them into place on her sides, just below her breasts, my fingers wrapping around onto her back. I press my lips hungrily against Diana's and she moans once in surprise. A moment later, the surprise on her expression gives way to pleasure and her eyes close. A second moan escapes her to tell me of her approval and enjoyment.

As we work our jaws open and closed for the sensations of lip against lip, her arms unfold on the table. I feel them shifting, her upper arms moving against my forearms. Her hands find their way to my chest. They pause there for a moment before she begins gliding them up over tan fabric to wrap over the tops of my shoulders. We pull each other closer as I straighten my head a little to grasp Diana's upper lip between mine.

I brush the tip of my tongue across the edge of her lip, drinking in the low moan she replies with before relaxing my jaw, giving her a quick, open-mouthed kiss, and then capturing her lower lip. I give it a gentle pull and press it tightly between my lips before letting go and kissing her once more.

Ever so gradually, I pull away, breaking from Diana's lips and straightening. I jump my hands from her sides to her upper arms, then slide them down to her elbows, and finally, her forearms as I sit back. She does the same while leaning back.

I give a near smirk while managing to avoid looking too smug. "Was that to my princess's satisfaction?" She answers with a smile that perfectly reflects my own. "And what do you will next, Princess?"

Diana chuckles for a moment, then laughs. It's a good-humored laugh, hearty and full of spirit—however else I might also describe it.

It's heartwarming to hear, to see her like this. It's such a far cry from the jealousy and anger she wore earlier. 'I don't ever want to see that again... I want Diana to be happy. I want to make her happy.'

I pull my arms back, taking her hands in mine. I lift them from the table and lean down. I plant a gentle kiss on the first knuckle of each finger and both thumbs, starting with her right pinkie and working my way across to her left pinkie like an old typewriter working its way across a line. When done, I go back, kissing each again out of order, even placing a third kiss on the knuckles of both of her ring fingers as I look up into Diana's eyes while letting my thoughts wander.

"Bruce..." Diana laughs, turning her hands and cupping them around my chin. She lifts my head with an insisting pressure and leans down to my level. She plants a gentle kiss on each of my cheekbones before a quick peck on my lips.

She is smiling as she leans back. "I assume you remember that we're still in public." I nod in confirmation, though I hadn't really cared. "Let's save anything further for a time when we have a little more privacy." I smile and nod in agreement.

Diana's hands leave my chin. She takes her drink again, sitting back and lifting her cup. She finishes it slowly before setting it back down.

I do the same and, for a moment, we're watching each other over the edges of our cups. We're both smiling when we set the empty cups down. "Alright. Where to next?" she asks.

I rise from my chair. Diana follows me to her feet. We throw our cups away and head back out to the streets hand-in-hand. For the next few hours, we continue touring the city on foot.

We stop in and visit each museum we come across. We stop at a few other Metropolis landmarks as well. Even the Metro Mall earns a quick walk-through. While in the mall, Diana explains what happened when she and Superman found part of the key to Tartarus under its floor.

When the late afternoon light begins fading into the evening, we finally make our way towards the Metropolis Grande Hotel. Our arrival is smooth, the desk clerk confirming that Alfred had checked in and handing over the keycard my old friend asked be left at the desk to await our arrival.

We cross the hotel lobby to find an elevator waiting, its lone passenger from the floors above stepping off just as we reach it. The ride to the penthouse floor takes a long while. Both of us keep our focus on the floor indicator.

When the elevator reaches the top level, we step out into the small hallway between the elevator and the suite's door. I put the keycard into the reader and open the door into the room before stepping aside and letting Diana enter first.

We hear classical music while walking into the suite's extravagant living room. "Alfred?" I call out.

"Oh! Master Bruce!" we hear Alfred calling from one of the two bedrooms, one on our right and Alfred in the opposite bedroom on our left. The door is ajar.

"Don't get up, you're still on vacation!" I return, turning to Diana and motioning for her to follow me.

We open the door and find Alfred in full dress, relaxing on his bed above the covers. His hands are folded on his stomach and his feet are crossed. His head is turned and he is regarding us with a look of curiosity. The television past his feet is on, the source of the soft stream of Mozart filling the room.

"Glad to see you've been enjoying yourself," I tell him.

"But of course, sir." He pauses and sits upright. "I trust that the both of you have also enjoyed your day?"

"Yes," Diana replies. I lift our still-joined hands, presenting the evidence to Alfred, then turn to Diana. "Very much so, Alfred. After the interview, we spent the day walking throughout Metropolis. We visited a number of museums, stopped in at some shops for snacks and drinks, and went to a mall to see if anything interesting was out for sale and so I could show Bruce where I fought Superman."

That her joy extends into the last bit surprises Alfred and he lets it show. "You and Superman fought one another?"

"Well, we didn't know it at the time. We were searching for part of an artifact. It was booby-trapped. Until we finally saw one another's reflections, it created an illusion so that we both saw each other as demons."

"My goodness!" Alfred exclaims, "I hope that you saw through it quickly enough."

Diana answers first with a dry smile. "He did first. I gained the upper hand for a few moments and drove him into the floor. When he got back up, he stopped retaliating. I should have noticed it, but I was trying to press my advantage. I had him by the throat and demanded to know where Superman was. He pointed to a mirror behind me and it broke the illusion."

"I see. Well, I am certainly glad to hear that you did not seriously injure yourselves." As Alfred speaks, my expression sours.

'I would have preferred to be with her myself rather than finding out about Faust's history.'

Alfred sees my change. It doesn't surprise me at all. After a lifetime of watching me, a shift in my expression, no matter how subtle, must be easy to read. "In any case, I was just considering whether or not I should order any room service. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

"No," I answer, prompting him to continue.

"Then perhaps we should all place an order. Each bedroom has its own bathroom. After our meals arrive, I would certainly be happy to retire to my room for the evening. I will certainly turn it down if you would prefer, but perhaps my music would be a pleasant addition to the atmosphere out in the suite's living room and kitchenette. Or perhaps the terrace can offer a rather pleasant view of the Metropolis skyline at night."

"That's a wonderful idea, Alfred!" Diana turns. "Don't you think so, Bruce?"

"Of course," I reply, thankful once again for Alfred's thoughtfulness.

I turn around, lead Diana back out into the living room. I had noticed a folder on the coffee table between the two couches. I assume the room service information and menus will be there.

Opening the folder first reveals a small notepad and a fountain pen, each with appropriately-sized versions of the hotel's logo. Diana reaches out and takes both pad and pen. "You find the menu and I'll write down everyone's orders."

I smile, lifting my chin to better look at Diana. "Would you like to call downstairs, too?"

"Sure. I've never called for room service before. Talk me through it if I manage to mess it up?"

I blink in surprise. It had been meant as a joke. Surprise gives way to affection. I nod, smile, then add, "Of course." I turn back to the well-packed folder and resume my search.

Finally, I find the menu near the back of the folder. I lean back as I hold the menu by its bottom edge in my right hand. I hold the menu over my leg, tipped towards Diana on my right so we can both read it.

"Any thoughts?" I ask, turning my head to Diana. She gives a quick hum in response, her focus on narrowing her choices. For some reason, it's heartwarming to see her sitting beside me like that, casually dressed and so relaxed, so happy. I feel a new smile touch my lips. "You know...we could...share a meal for two."

A hum of dawning realization and then approval escapes Diana and she turns to me with a smile. Her eyes quickly find mine and she then jabs at the menu with her left forefinger. "How about this, Bruce?"

I turn to the menu. "The Caesar salad?"

"What? No!" She turns to see where her finger landed on the page. "Oh. Sorry, wrong column." Her finger slides to the right. "A roast duck dinner for two."

I nod in agreement and Diana carefully copies the meal's information onto the notepad. "Alright. Let's go ask Alfred what he'd like for dinner," I suggest when she is done.

We stand and return to the entrance to Alfred's room. I open the door before the pair of us file inside, finding him again totally at ease, laying peacefully on the bed.

"Alright, Alfred, your turn to pick." He turns at Diana's words. He stops, stares at both of us, aghast. "What?"

"Absolutely not, Your Highness! I cannot allow myself to be waited on by royalty!" Alfred begins to sit upright, intent on swinging out of bed and taking over.

"Easy, Alfred," I calmingly tell my old friend. He pauses, lifting his focus to my face. "Call it a team effort. Diana volunteered to write out our orders and call down to the desk."

"So long as Bruce helps me out if I have any trouble when I make the call," Diana finishes for me.

I walk up to Alfred and offer him the menu. He looks at me while taking it. "I wouldn't worry about that, Miss Diana, I'm sure Master Bruce will be an absolute gentleman in the matter." His words are pointed and commanding. For a moment, I wonder if he means about the call for room service or anything and everything Diana and I do together from now on. Somehow, I guess that he was thinking of the call, but meant everything.

Meanwhile, Alfred turns his attention to the menu, holding the overcrowded, double-sided page in one hand and rubbing his chin with the other while he considers the options. "I believe the sirloin steak dinner would be a safe choice. Well done, please. Also, if I may be so bold as to ask what you've decided upon?"

"We're going to share a roast duck dinner for two."

Alfred hands the menu back to me with a good-humored grin. "I hope it won't be smiling at you," he laughs.

It's easy enough to assume he means one of Joker's smiling animals, something like his Jokerfish scheme. I sort of wish he had, but I know the reference he intends. I turn to find Diana about to ask his meaning. "It's in reference to a classic family movie, adapted from several books written by author Jean Shepherd. Shepherd also narrated the film and made a short cameo appearance."

Diana nods in understanding, letting any further questions pass. She then turns around, heading back to the couches, her next task waiting and with her more than ready to make the call. I follow as she sits by the phone. I step past her to sit to her right, holding the menu out for her with my right hand, tapping my index finger against the top of the page to point out the instructions for placing an order.

Diana quickly reads the instructions once, then reaches out for the phone receiver. I watch with a mix of amusement and affection as Diana endeavors to operate the device for what could be her first time using a normal phone.

"Hello." A pause as she listens to the person on the other end of the line. "Diana. I would like to order room service." Another pause. She turns to me. "Bruce, what's our room number?"

"Just tell them it's the penthouse suite. If they ask for more, the room is in my name."

She nods in acknowledgment, then turns forward again. "The penthouse suite. It's under Bruce Wayne." She pauses once more. "B112, the sirloin steak dinner, and P248, the roasted duck dinner for two." She turns, gives me a smile to let me know that things are going well so far.

This pause is longer than those before it. "I've never done this before. Do we go downstairs to pick it up in a half hour?" She nods in understanding. "Alright. Bruce and I will be ready and waiting, then. Thank you." A final pause. "Goodbye."

She sets the receiver back into its cradle and turns back to me. "Well, that was interesting. Thank you for letting me call."

"Enjoy yourself, Diana?"

"Yes, it was sort of fun. What can we do while we wait?"

"For a half hour? I'm not really one for TV entertainment, but there are chairs out on the terrace if you'd like to see the Metropolis skyline lit up at night."

Diana nods enthusiastically, so we stand and work our way through the furniture to open the swinging glass doors and the sliding screen doors past them. We leave the glass doors open so we will hear the doorbell when our food arrives. There are a few chairs outside, but Diana points me towards a fancy wooden rocking sofa that sports large, soft cushions.

We sit together and I make a tiny move, lifting my right arm and wrapping it around Diana's shoulders. She looks to me with a smile and then leans against the front of my shoulder. She scoots closer, until our hips and thighs are flush against one another as well. She gives a contented sigh and sinks deeper into the cushion next to me. "Have to admit I really like this, Bruce."

"Hmm?"

"Being close like this. This nearness. This…intimacy." She turns her head towards me and tips her forehead down until it's resting against my cheek. "It's relaxing and comforting, but exciting and thrilling all at once."

She drops her voice to a whisper. "This is the happiest I've been since arriving in Man's World…"

Diana's admission surprises me. 'I've never believed that I could make someone so happy, not since…' Not since my parents died. I've seen Alfred beaming with pride. I've gotten more than one man's fair share of empathy from Leslie. Dick and Tim have admired me.

I watched Dick grow into a self-sufficient man all on his own, took pride in how I helped him achieve it, had regrets over my role in his leaving. It's been so long since I've seen someone simply happy on account of me. Maybe with past romances, but I always disappointed them in the end.

I close my eyes. 'Yes,' I answer past thoughts, 'I can fight for love of Diana.' I turn my head towards Diana, nudging her forehead back towards my neck, cradling her head between my cheek and shoulder.

"Thank you, Diana," I whisper softly.

"For what?"

I turn my head a little more, kiss Diana's neck just above her jacket collar. "Opening my eyes."

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