TITLE: Etched in His Mind
AUTHOR: LOTSlover
CHARACTERS: Batman / Wonder Woman
RATING: T
WARNINGS: Author Chooses Not to Use Warnings
DISCLAIMER: I love Justice League, but especially Batman and Wonder Woman. Unfortunately, I do not own the characters and, if I did, things would be much different for them.
SUMMARY: Set after I Am Legion, Bruce Wayne comes home from work to a very unexpected scene. BMWW
Etched in His Mind
Bruce Wayne pulled into the front circle drive of historic Wayne Manor with a scowl already fixed firmly on his face. It had been a long day at Wayne Enterprises that had begun with avoiding a hostile takeover of his company and ended with a phone conference with an overseas company that had been more than migraine-inducing.
It didn't help his already addled brain that he was still trying to figure out what Grodd was up to with forming his so-called Legion of Doom. After Flash, Fire, and Shayera's run in with Lex Luthor and a couple of his cohorts last month, he'd been doing some research to find out what Luthor was really up to. Following a couple of leads, he'd discovered Grodd's little secret society of villains that included Luthor.
The new discovery had created a nagging feeling of dread that refused to diminish along with several sleepless nights. They were going to have to be on guard for whatever Grodd had up his sleeve this time. The fact that he'd gathered some of the world's most dangerous criminals only added to his paranoia.
Turning the engine off, he sat there for a minute in the driver's seat, trying to calm his frazzled mind. He tilted his head back against the headrest, his eyes falling closed. He drew a deep breath in an effort to regain some semblance of control over his anger.
There was a part of him that had hoped to see Diana this evening, but today had definitely not been a good day. It was probably for the best that she had monitor duty tonight. He certainly wouldn't be very good company, nor did he want to subject her to his surly mood that would no doubt incite a heated argument between them.
Exiting the car, he took the steps two at a time with briefcase in hand. Opening the front door, he was immediately greeted by the sounds of laughter—loud, happy, obnoxious laughter. It was rather unexpected, but not completely so. There were times that Tim and Dick would wrestle and create brotherly havoc in the manor or Barbara and Dick would get caught up in a movie or a TV show, but this seemed different somehow.
The laughter seemed to only prickle his anger even more, adding fuel to the simmering fire that had been lit earlier that morning. He wasn't in the mood for this at all. He was going to go upstairs and change before going directly to the Batcave in order to avoid all the amusement.
Bruce tossed his briefcase onto a nearby chair along with his suit jacket. Loosening his tie, he headed directly towards the stairs, intent on avoiding everyone at all cost. He just wanted to lock himself away in the cave, bury himself in his cases, and forget about the day.
He lifted his right foot to head upstairs when a particular voice captured his attention, causing him to abruptly stop in mid-step. Her voice seemed to ring out above all the others like an angelic melody, her laughter rising above the others before being drowned in the other voices once more.
He'd know it anywhere…the beautiful lilt of her voice and the sound of her melodious laughter. It was something that had been etched in his mind almost from the very beginning and now he carried it protectively in his heart everywhere he went.
Diana was here.
He was annoyed by the fact that she was here without telling him that she was coming. She was supposed to be on the Watchtower at that moment, not in his kitchen. Curiosity got the better of him, forcing him to find out what was going on that he didn't want to happen. Something was going on in the kitchen and he was going to find out exactly that something was.
Whatever it was, he already knew that he didn't like it and he was going to put an end to it.
Stalking towards the kitchen, Bruce came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the scene that greeted him. Dick, Tim, Barbara, and Diana were gathered around the kitchen table, each of them with a large pumpkin in front of them. Alfred was busy bustling around the kitchen, the delicious aroma of fresh baked cookies permeating the air.
"No! That's not how you do it," Tim emphatically insisted with a very serious frown on his face. His displeasure with his companions was more than evident as he pointed a large carving knife at the two people across the table from him. "You two have absolutely no idea what you're doing. I'll be the one to teach her."
"I beg your pardon," Barbara countered. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, junior."
"I'm not junior," Tim snapped. "Diana, let an expert show you how it's done."
"Then, that would be me," Dick declared, chest puffed out with pride as he expertly flipped his knife between his fingers, making it spin. "I am the most knowledgeable about these things."
"Any help would be appreciated," Diana replied, trying valiantly to settle the fierce debate among his three partners.
"What is going on in here?"
The familiar sound of Bruce's annoyed voice caused everyone to look up to find him standing there in the kitchen, a look of irritation and confusion etched on his face. Diana smiled broadly at him, holding up a very large butcher knife that looked more like a smaller version of one of her battle axes. To say it was a little frightening would've been an understatement.
"Hi, Bruce," she greeted him, waving her knife at him. "Come join us."
"What are you guys doing?"
"Isn't it sort of obvious, World's Greatest Detective?" Barbara questioned him; her voice thick with sarcasm.
His eyes momentarily fell closed as he tried to tamp down on his growing frustration and anger. "I assumed as much," he curtly stated with a huff. "Why are you doing it here and now? And what is Diana doing here?"
"Don't you want me here?" she asked, confused.
"No…no, it's just that I'm surprise to see you here," he clarified. "I thought you had monitor duty this evening."
"I was supposed to, but I covered a shift for Fire the other day so she could go out on a date with Flash. She offered to take my shift tonight," she explained. "Come…dice up a pumpkin with us, Bruce."
"It's 'carve' a pumpkin, Diana," Dick corrected her. "Not dice. We're not making pies here."
"Sorry," she murmured. "Carve up pumpkins with us."
"We have an extra pumpkin for you too," Tim chimed in excitedly from his seat beside Diana.
Bruce folded his arms against his chest as he glared at the four of them, his lips twisted into a scowl of aggravation. He was definitely not in the mood for this. "I can't…I have too much work to do downstairs."
"Come on, Bruce," Diana tried to cajole him, patting the place next to her. "I've never sliced up a pumpkin before."
"Carve!" All three cohorts chimed in at the same time.
"Sorry…carve," she corrected herself with a faint blush on her cheeks. "Tim, Dick, and Barbara are going to teach me how."
"You've never carved a pumpkin before, princess?" he questioned her, eyebrows rising in disbelief.
"Never," she confirmed. "In fact, I didn't really know people did such a thing until Tim told me all about it the other day."
"Yah, and Alfred is making us cookies," Tim told him, holding up an orange frosted pumpkin shaped cookie. "They're awesome."
"That's your sixth one, Master Timothy," Alfred pointed out. "You might want to slow down. Supper will be ready in forty-five minutes."
"Actually, it's his eighth," Barbara said with a giggle as Tim glared daggers at her for tattling on him. "Besides, I'm sure he'll still be hungry by dinner, Alfred. The kid's got a bottomless stomach."
Getting out of her chair, Diana made her way to Bruce, butcher knife still clutched in her right hand. "Please, carve pumpkins with us," she softly pleaded with him, the palm of her free hand coming to rest against his chest. "I'd love for you to try it with me."
Bruce released a long breath, knowing there was no way he was ever going to win against her and those bright blue eyes or that killer smile. It made him weak in the knees. He was going to have to try to figure out a defense against it at some point or he was in very big trouble for the rest of his life. It didn't hurt her cause any that she was wielding a very large, very sharp battle axe…or butcher's knife…whatever.
"Fine," he huffed with an insolent roll of his cerulean blue eyes.
He ultimately allowed Diana to take him by the hand and lead him to the spot next to her but then again allowed was a pretty lose term seeing how she could rip his arm off and beat him with it if she so chose to. He found her feisty spirit to be quite a powerful aphrodisiac…unless of course it was turned on him and involved bodily harm.
Bruce stood in front of what he assumed was his pumpkin, a frown still etched firmly in place. "I really don't think…"
"Here," Tim said, shoving a cookie at him. "Have a cookie. It'll sweeten you up."
Barbara and Dick snickered as Diana leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "He is very sweet," she reassured them. "He just doesn't like to show it very often."
"Wow…it's getting deep in here," Dick chortled.
"All right," Bruce said, reluctantly taking the offered cookie. "Let's get this done. I've got work to do."
"Okay, the first thing you have to do is cut a hole in the top around the stem like this," Tim instructed as he began to demonstrate.
"You know I've done this before," Bruce told them. "It's just…been a while."
"This is for Diana, not you," Tim enthusiastically said.
Bruce bit back the smile he could feel threatening to form as he watched the young teenager begin to hack at his pumpkin with exuberance. Glancing to his right, he noticed how Diana was intently watching Tim's demonstration. Picking up his own knife, he decided to show the Amazon princess exactly how it was done.
"Watch an expert, princess," Bruce boasted as he flipped the knife in his hand.
"You think you know?" Dick challenged with a mocking laugh. "Let's make this interesting. Let's have a competition to see who carves the best pumpkin."
"I'm in!" Tim exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. "The looser gets to clean up all the pumpkin guts."
"What does the winner get?"
"The evening off from patrol," Bruce decided.
"Oh, you all are going down," Dick proclaimed.
"Who's going to be the judge?" Barbara asked.
"It's going to have to be Alfred," Diana said.
"I promise you I will be unbiased and quite fair," Alfred announced from the kitchen counter where he was preparing dinner.
"You guys don't stand a chance," Dick proudly announced. "We already know that I'm Alfred's favorite around here."
"Whatever," Barbara retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Let's just do this."
"Stick with me," Bruce said as he leaned close to Diana. "I'll show you how it's done."
"No way," Diana shot back, giving him a sexy smirk. "I'm going to beat the pants off you."
Bruce's eyebrows rose marginally with her cocky response. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"No, but it can't be that difficult," she said with a shrug of a shoulder.
"It's on, princess," he countered, taking up the challenge.
His competitive spirit kicked into hyperdrive, his earlier irritation and annoyance momentarily forgotten. Turning his attention to his own pumpkin, he began the task of cutting a hole in the top. The sound of Diana's squeal captured his attention, forcing him to look to his right.
Diana was giggling like a schoolgirl as she stuck her hands inside the pumpkin. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she began scooping out the innards of the pumpkin, following Tim's lead as she drew out large handfuls of pumpkin guts.
"Ewww!" Tim crowed. "I love getting my hands in the pumpkin brains."
"Brains?" Diana cried as she quickly withdrew her hands, looking down at the pumpkin goop that covered them.
"It's just an expression, princess," Bruce reassured her. "It's not really brains."
"I knew that," she snapped with a frown, dipping her head in embarrassment as she continued the task at hand.
Bruce smirked to himself as he used a large spoon to scrape out the inside of his pumpkin. She was so endearing when she was embarrassed. Despite being in Man's World for over four years, there was still an element of innocence to her that drove him crazy.
Diana could tell that Bruce was finding amusement in her inexperience. While it prickled her annoyance, she was relieved that he seemed to have gotten past his surly mood. She knew that he had been stressed lately with work not to mention the recent discovery of the Legion of Doom. It had caused his paranoia and worry to deepen. He'd been working overtime trying to predict what the group of villains were planning next.
She had hoped that spending some time with his family doing something completely mindless would help relieve a measure of his stress. Of course, making it into a competition had drawn him in hook, line, and sinker. He could never resist a challenge especially when it came to her or his boys.
"You know I'm going to win, Bruce," she challenged, casting a glance at him.
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle with her threat. "You don't even have a clue what you're doing, princess."
"I'm carving a pumpkin," she replied, pausing to flick a sticky pumpkin seed at his face.
Bruce's eyes closed as the seed bounced off his cheek. "Funny," he stated, leveling her with a glare. "You get Alfred's kitchen messy and he'll ban you from the manor forever."
"Not Miss Diana," Alfred chimed in. "We have arranged cooking lessons that begin next week."
Bruce looked at Diana in stunned disbelief before glancing over his shoulder at Alfred. "Why didn't I know about this?"
"Do I need your permission?" she asked, a single raven eyebrow arching as she studied him.
"No…of course not," he said with a frown as he turned his attention to his pumpkin. "I'm just surprised that you want to learn how to cook."
"You don't know how to cook?" Tim asked in stunned disbelief. "How can you be my mom someday if you don't know how to cook?"
"Tim," Bruce uttered with a groan.
"No, I never learned how to cook," Diana admitted. "We had a cooking staff at the palace that made all the meals."
"Don't feel bad, Di," Barbara told her. "Bruce can't cook either."
"But's not for lack of trying," Dick interjected with a laugh. "How many times did you almost burn the house down, Bruce?"
"Zero," Bruce evenly stated, refusing to be bated.
"I think the count is now up to four, Master Richard," Alfred added.
"Don't you have something else you can be doing?" Bruce growled.
"Not if you would rather go hungry tonight."
"Never!" Tim exclaimed. "I want dinner."
"You almost burned the manor down?" Diana asked with a chuckle.
"They're exaggerating," Bruce insisted. "It wasn't nearly that bad."
"The fire department had to be called twice," Dick interjected, holding up two fingers.
"Once," Bruce quickly amended.
"Twice," Dick asserted.
"Twice," Alfred confirmed.
Diana bit her bottom lip to keep the laughter from bubbling up her throat. "It's okay," she reassured him. "I probably wouldn't have done any better."
"I can't decide how I want to carve my pumpkin," Tim thoughtfully announced, tilting his head as he studied it. "I was leaning towards making it into a zombie, but the shape of it reminds me of Joker's head."
"Well, you better decide soon because I'm going to beat you," Dick told him.
Tim scowled, pointing his knife at his brother. "This isn't a race you know."
"I'm not spending the entire evening on this," Bruce maintained. "I only agreed to it because Diana needed me."
Diana gave him an incredulous look. "Needed you?" she repeated. "I'm sure I could've eventually figured it out on my own."
"It's okay to admit you need me, princess," he told her with a cocky grin.
"Is it really a good idea to antagonize me when I'm holding a butcher knife?" she questioned him.
"Right," he muttered as he mapped out how he wanted to carve the face of his pumpkin. There was no way he was going to lose.
A fond memory of carving a pumpkin with his father when he was six years old drifted through his mind, causing the corner of his lips to curl slightly. By the time they had finished with it, his pumpkin had been pretty mutilated, but Bruce had been so proud of it. His mother had praised his work of art, but looking back on it now, he knew that it had been hideous looking to say the least.
"What is it?"
He looked up sharply, finding Diana watching him intently. There was an inquisitiveness to her gentle expression that drew him in and made him want to open up to her. He slowly shook his head as he tried to put his memory into words. "Just remembering something," he softly replied.
"I'd love to hear about it sometime," she encouraged him.
He smiled softly at her, reminded once more how much he truly loved this woman. There were so many bad memories etched in his mind, but with Diana, they were growing dimmer as new, amazing memories were created with her. He found himself anxious to see what their future together held.
"What is that supposed to be?" Barbara asked Dick.
"Hey! None of your business," Dick countered, trying to shield his pumpkin with his body. "You'll see once it's done."
"It looks like a poor victim in a horrendous farming accident," she said, laughter spilling from her lips.
"Just wait and see," he maintained. "Your pumpkin isn't looking much better you know."
"I have a plan," she claimed, chin lifted with pride.
"You have less than half an hour to finish your creations," Alfred announced. "Dinner will be ready soon."
Picking up a template, Tim set to work on his pumpkin, determined to be the winner when all was said and done. Barbara and Dick worked feverishly, focused on their work despite the fact they kept bumping elbows. The tip of Diana's tongued managed to sneak out at times as she used her knife with an ease that surprised Bruce. Of course, he knew he really shouldn't be surprised since she practically grew up with a knife in her hand.
Bruce used the tip of his knife to draw the lines, digging deeper for shadowing and to create more definition. He used a lighter touch to accent, losing himself in the simple task. He found the stresses of his day being washed away in the wake of the challenge and the teasing banter of the people he cared about most.
They'd been doing more things like this since he'd introduced Diana to Dick, Tim, and Barbara, spending time together almost like a real family would do at times. He wasn't certain what had changed…if it was him or Diana's influential presence in the manor, but he found himself enjoying it. It was what he had wanted though he'd never given voice to that desire.
"I'm afraid time is up," Alfred called, wiping his hands with a dish towel. "Knives down."
"Aw…just two more minutes," Tim pleaded.
"You can add more after dinner, Master Timothy," Alfred informed him. "Time to make your presentations to the judge."
"Start with mine, Alfred," Barbara said. "You'll like mine the best."
"Ladies first, Miss Barbara," he agreed as he made his way to her pumpkin. "Ah, what a lovely job."
"What is that supposed to be?" Dick asked, his nose wrinkling as he studied her pumpkin.
"It's you and me kissing," she told him, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.
"My nose is not that big," he pointed out.
Barbara huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an artist, okay?" she snapped. "I thought it was romantic."
"Check out mine, Alfred," Dick said.
"Ah, it's the Nightwing symbol," Alfred commented. "Very creative."
"Not really," Tim groused. "You couldn't come up with anything better than that?"
"Hey, I went with the best," Dick claimed.
"I'm going to win," Tim boasted as Alfred made his way around the table. "No one can beat this."
"A very scary scene," Alfred announced as he studied the creepy pumpkin face that Tim had carved. "Impressive indeed."
Diana gazed at her pumpkin with a frown, knowing there was no way she could possibly win. It looked hideous to say the least. What had started out as a great idea had taken an unexpected left turn somewhere. Now, it was just a horrible mess. The eyes were mismatched and uneven, the mouth was severely crooked and don't even look at the hole that was supposed to be the nose.
"Don't even bother, Alfred," Diana said, holding up her hand to stop him before he could say anything. "It's not even worth judging. Just move on to Bruce."
"It's not bad for your first time, Miss Diana," Alfred reassured her with an affectionate squeeze of her shoulder.
"Better luck next time, princess," Bruce told her, receiving a withering glare from his lover.
"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred uttered as his gaze fell on the masterpiece before him. "What a marvelous job. I would say you are most definitely the winner of the contest."
"What?" Tim cried, throwing up his hands. "This is rigged!"
"What did he do?" Barbara demanded to know.
"Yah, let's see it, Bruce," Dick insisted.
Bruce smugly turned his pumpkin around to show off the perfect image of Batman. The detail was extraordinary, the likeness to his alter ego uncanny. Everyone's mouths dropped in stunned disbelief. They should've known that he'd tackle this contest like he tackled everything else he did—with expert skill and perfection.
"Have fun on patrol tonight," Bruce said as he began to walk away from the table. He paused at the doorway to call over his shoulder. "Call me if you run into trouble."
XXX
"I should've known you would win," Diana murmured, snuggled up against Bruce's side in the bed they shared. "You never do anything halfway."
Bruce chuckled softly as he tightened his hold on her. "I like to win," he replied. "Nothing wrong with that. Besides, you gave it an admirable effort."
Diana propped herself up on her elbow to glare down at her lover. "You know that's not true, Bruce," she countered. "It was a complete disaster."
"Yah, it was," he agreed, earning a swat of the back of her hand against his shoulder. He captured her hand, pulling her back down to lay against him. "But it was your first time so go easy on yourself."
"I want a rematch against you," she decided.
"Anytime, princess," he told her.
"I know I can do better."
"I'm sure you can."
"Stop trying to pacify me," she said with a threatening undertone. "You know I hate losing."
"You weren't the only loser though," he pointed out. "Dick, Tim, and Barbara lost too."
"Not helping, Bruce," she ground out as she attempted to get out of bed.
"Come here," he said, pulling her back to him. He kissed her on the forehead in an effort to soothe her irritation. "You know I'm only teasing you. Look at the bright side—we get to spend the whole night together."
"I guess," she reluctantly agreed.
"You just hate discovering something that you're not good at."
"That's ironic coming from you."
"Probably, but I know some things that you are very…very good at," he told her, his voice taking on a decidedly husky quality as he began to kiss behind her ear.
She sighed contentedly, her eyes falling closed as his hand began to explore her all over again as his mouth captured hers. Her arms slipped around his neck as she pulled him down on top of her, her lips curling with utter happiness and longing.
"You are right about that," she murmured as she lost herself in the feel of his body settling over hers. "We're both very good at it."
Bruce chuckled as he began to kiss his way down her body, loving the feel of her under him. With any luck, they'd be able to do this several more times before the call of duty and the stresses of a new day greeted them in the morning. He knew he could face it and so much more with her by his side.
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this. RL took a turn for the worse, but I'm getting through it. I hope to update Family Reunion soon. Thanks for hanging with me. :)