Author's Note: This chapter was originally published in April on AO3. Enjoy!
Their travels start quickly, fueled by Bruce's insistence that a great evil is coming. Once, Diana tries to ask him how he knows this but he just quietly shrugs the questions away. It's then she realizes that it will probably be a little while before he'll totally come to trust her with certain parts of himself. She's okay with this of course; there are still parts of herself she won't let him see yet.
During their travels they stay in only the best hotels of course. I mean what would people say if billionaire Bruce Wayne checked in at some roadside motel? Diana certainly doesn't mind this, especially since she's been living in hotels since she returned to the world of man.
Their rooms are always separate yet still connected by two doors in the middle. Diana always sits in silence in her room, browsing the news and such on her laptop. She finds the television to be too much noise than she wants most of the time.
Bruce listens to the news of the TV, she notices. In the quiet of her own room it's not hard to hear the noise in his. She wonders if perhaps he prefers that little bit of noise, not much but enough, so that it's never silent enough for him to get caught up in his own thoughts, his own fears. He always turns it off those when they bring up the death of Superman though. She guesses that neither the outer world nor his inner world is ready to let that leave him.
"You know, if you ever want to talk," she starts once while they are down at the bar.
He interrupts her. "About what?"
Diana shrugs, trying to act nonchalant about the subject. "Whatever you want to."
Bruce just looks at her over his glass as he takes a sip and for some reason Diana feels that not much else is going to be said about it.
So, she finishes the rest of her drink and places her hand on his arm. "My door is open." With that she leaves him there alone, mulling over her words.
Her door is open and she keeps it that way, even though his is always closed. As she lies on her bed, flipping through a book she picked up at the airport about a man named William Moulton Marston, she hears his door open and listens to his footsteps as he enters his room.
She can hear him wondering around for moment, the walls not as thick as one would think. Then she hears his footsteps stop and notices a shadow coming from under his door.
Dianna can't see him but she can imagine him on the other side of the door, hand hovering over the knob, debating about whether or not to open it. She knows he knows that the moment he does he's opening more doors than just the physical one between them.
His shadow lingers for a moment longer and then retreats. Maybe he'll try again tomorrow or the next day.
Whenever he does decide he trusts her though, her door will still be open.
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