IN DARKEST
LIGHT
By Meljean Brook (mickerella@yahoo.com)
Archiving: Go
ahead, just send me an e-mail letting me know where, and keep my name and
e-mail address at the head of the story. No editing without written permission
and an approved edited sample (if you want to change it from an R rating to PG,
for example).
Continuity:
No specific continuity. Generally, after Wonder Woman #174.
Primarily, I've changed Batman continuity around so that Officer Down takes
place after OWAW and this story. I've changed things and made them up as
needed. Last Laugh never happened in this universe.
Disclaimers: This work of fiction is blatantly infringing many
copyrights, but it is a work for which I am making no money, nor receiving any
other form of compensation (except, of course, personal gratification and
greatly appreciated reader comments). I do not own the characters herein, nor claim
in any way to own them. All characters, representations, and likenesses are
owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros.
[Chapter 1]
[Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter
5]
Kyle Rayner, the Green Lantern, was craving double chocolate
walnut fudge ice cream. He headed to the kitchen for the third time that day to
get a bowl of it. He wasn't sure why last month he had started craving the ice
cream, but it was so bad that he had stocked the freezer in the Watchtower's
kitchen with several more gallons than it originally had, and had noticed a
slight weight gain under his skin-tight, green, white and black uniform from his
several-times-a-day ice cream binges. Kyle thought that no one else had noticed
the extra ounce or two that he was carrying, but he was sure that in the next
day or so Batman would probably say from some dark corner, "Too many
Doritos, Kyle?" with an accompanying stare that would send the Green
Lantern running to the weight room to burn off the four gallons of ice cream
that he had eaten in the last week.
He strode
through the kitchen's swinging door and was halfway across the room when he
noticed the scene that was playing out on the kitchen table. He froze. Wonder
Woman--naked, Kyle's mind registered ecstatically--with her head thrown back,
hands clenched in the hair of the man whom she was straddling, moaning softly
from whatever it was that his mouth was doing to her breast and his body was
doing under her.
The couple
must have sensed Kyle was there, because they stopped mid-thrust, looked at
each other, then at Kyle. Kyle forced himself to look away from Diana's body
and into her glazed eyes, and at her face, which registered confusion as she
looked down at the man she was astride, then back at Kyle, then down at the man
again. And then Kyle realized at whom Diana was
looking. Bruce Wayne. The Batman.
In one fluid
movement, Batman rolled over, pulling Diana with him, toward the chair where
his black cape was draped over his cowl, body armor and Wonder Woman's uniform,
swept the cape up and covered their nude forms. Kyle filed away the information
that Diana was wearing only her red boots and bracelets for later self-erotic
use, then felt his stomach jump into his throat when
Batman turned to look at him. Kyle would rather have had Diana crush his skull
with a flick of her hand than to receive *that* look from Batman.
"Eep," said the Green Lantern, wielder of the
universe's most powerful weapon.
"Get
out, Kyle," the Batman said in his softest voice.
Kyle got out.
***
Superman, the
Flash, and Plastic Man were scanning for unusual incidents in the Monitor Room
when GL burst in, white as a sheet, stumbling over his feet in his hurry. He
skidded to a stop, and said, "I just saw Wonder Woman naked!"
Wally jumped
up. "Wherewhichroomisshein?"
Plastic Man's
chin dropped, literally, to the floor. He pulled it up again to say, "You
lucky bastard."
"Not so
lucky," Superman said mildly, "if his fear is anything to judge by. I
suppose she threatened the life out of you and then threw you out?"
"No,
that was the Batman." Kyle looked fearfully toward the door of the room as
if he expected the Dark Knight to come through it at any moment. "Man, she
was naked on top of him! And he was naked, too," he added, almost as an
afterthought.
"Oh,
man, I can't believe I missed that," Plastic Man lamented.
GL threw
himself theatrically at Superman's feet. "Please, Supes,
you gotta protect me when he comes after me."
"Get up,
Kyle,"
She looked at
him, figure stiff, eyes stricken. "I've never..I don't know...." She shook her head, composed
her face. "We'll both figure out what happened. One way
or another." She ran her hands through her hair. "Maybe we
should start with the security discs in this room." Superman saw her grin.
"Before Kyle distributes them over the internet."
"There's
enough fake ones online about you that it wouldn't even make a
difference," Batman said dryly. He turned to leave the room, hesitated,
turned back. "Diana, are you all right?"
Her grin
faded. "I should ask you that; we weren't exactly gentle."
"I don't
mean physically." Batman grimaced. "I mean...emotionally."
"Oh,
that." Diana waved her hand dismissively. "It wasn't exactly a bad
experience, Bruce. I'm fine. Are you?"
Batman
nodded, then leaned toward her, touching her bare hand
with his gauntleted one. "No, it wasn't bad, Diana. But that doesn't mean
it should have happened, or that it wasn't a violation of us both." He
gave her hand a squeeze and let go. "I'll go get those discs now."
Wonder Woman
watched Batman leave the kitchen, then sank to her
knees, burying her face in her hands. "Great Hera,"
she whispered.
Superman
looked away, feeling like a voyeur. Green Lantern was saying, "...wait
until Donna finds out! She'll flip her lid, that's for sure."
"Donna
won't find out," Superman said. His tone brooked no argument. "I'm
not exactly sure what has happened, but I don't think it was of their own volition."
"Ah,
man," Wally said, sinking into a chair. "You mean we are in
possession of the best piece of gossip since
"I
mean," Superman said, looking at each one of them in turn, "that if
word of it gets beyond this room, they'll find tiny little pieces of each of
you floating around Pluto." They could tell he wasn't kidding. "In
other words, you'll have to answer to a very disappointed and furious me."
"And
me," Batman said from the doorway. He strode silently across the room to
the security station. GL, the Flash, and Plastic Man looked at each other, and
started to edge toward the door.
"Stay
away from Diana," Batman said without turning from the console in front of
him.
"Okay,"
the three said in unison, then ran out of the room. Superman had the feeling
that they probably wouldn't even look at Wonder Woman for three weeks; Batman's
tone had been low, very dangerous and deadly serious.
***
"Did you
find anything?" he asked.
J'onn J'onzz,
the Martian Manhunter, materialized beside him. "No. There isn't
a single sign of an outside influence or chemical imbalance in their minds. As
far as I can tell, they just acted on feelings that they already had. Perhaps
we should look at the magic angle?"
"I hate
magic."
"Except for my unusual craving for your mom's apple pie
instead of Oreo cookies and the abundance of ice cream in the freezer? No." J'onn paused. "Someone could be trying to disrupt the
JLA, to divert our attention away from something else."
"That's
what I've been thinking. Keep an especially watchful eye out, and I'll get in
touch with some of the magic users." Superman eyed the man next to him
wryly. "I'm not sure how to explain the problem we have without explaining
the situation to them, but hopefully one of them will know of something similar
and can give us a clue."
"I
wouldn't be surprised if Batman has beaten you to that."
"Neither
would I."
"Bruce and Diana?" At
"Did she
go in with her sword?"
"Yes."
Superman's
shoulders drooped. "I'll call Steel and have him get a crew ready to do
repairs to the room."
***
Wonder Woman
cocked her head, listening to Superman and the Martian Manhunter.
They didn't have a monopoly on super-hearing, and she wasn't sure if they had
forgotten that or thought that she was too distraught to listen. So they
thought she was reacting normally? How was a woman supposed to act, she
wondered, after she has come onto a man like a cat in heat? Was there a
precedent for this sort of thing that made her reaction fit into the category
of 'normal'?
She sheathed
her sword and called up the highest training level on the computer. She
wouldn't use her weapon unless she had to; it suddenly seemed more satisfying
to pound the holograms with her fists. A simulacrum of Darkseid
appeared and hit her with his omega beams before she could react, throwing her
back against the reinforced wall, knocking the breath out of her. She flew toward
him, dodging his energy beam, landing a punch that made her hand go numb but
barely jarred the dark god. And who had given J'onn
permission to scan her mind? She broke the neck of a parademon
that tried to attack her from behind. Granted, it was probably in the JLA's best interest to know if there was an outside source
influencing her or Bruce, but why hadn't they asked? Did they think she would
break, that her sensibilities were so delicate that she would never recover
from a direct question? Darkseid slapped her against
the ground, stepped on her. She thought he might have cracked a rib, so she
drew her sword and speared his foot. She breathed heavily while he pulled out
the sword with two of his fingers. She yanked it out of his hand with her lasso
and re-sheathed it. And what about the magic? Did they
think that Batman would only give into her charms under the influence of magic?
She dodged another omega beam, punched another parademon.
Or that she was so sexless it took magic to make her give in to a sexual urge?
Another rib cracked when she tried to come around behind Darkseid
and he hit her in mid-air. Granted, it had been odd that *they* had had sex and
it was out of character for them both, but--she threw a parademon
at Darkseid's face, then used the split second his
vision was blocked by the creature to kick him in the back of his leg, causing
his knee to buckle--it had been nice. For the first time in a long time she had
been swept away by a feeling, and it had been wonderful. She crashed against
the ceiling when a parademon she had been unaware of
rammed into her from below. She pulled off its head by wrapping her lasso
around it and yanking.
Wonderful,
but wrong, she admitted as the scenery around her changed from Apokolips to
"And
he's right," she said aloud.
"Who's
right, Wonder Bitch?" Circe sneered as she caught Wonder Woman's lasso
before it snaked around Vanessa.
"Batman,"
Diana replied, yanking sharply on the rope. Circe didn't let go quickly enough,
and flew off of her glider into Diana's fist. Her nose crunched. The Silver
Swan screeched and attacked. Wonder Woman blocked her flailing nails with a
bracelet, kicking Circe out of the way. The witch landed on her feet, holding
her nose.
"Where's
your mommy, Diana?" Circe taunted. "Are they going to make her a
goddess so that Zeus can fuck her whenever he wants, just like Herakles did? The retroactive Wonder Slut."
Twenty
minutes later, Wonder Woman stepped away from the pulped body of the witch, and
took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. "Computer, program off," she
commanded.
Mother, she
thought, I wish you were here.
Her mother
didn't answer her; Batman did. He said over her comm-link,
"Diana, I think I've found something. Come to the cave."
***
Diana found
Alfred waiting for her in the cave.
"Good
evening, miss," the butler said. "Master Bruce was called away on
sudden business. He said that he should only be away for two or three hours. He
tried to reach you, but you were . .. . indisposed, and he felt that under the circumstances,
leaving a message with the others telling you to delay your visit to him would
be unwise."
Diana smiled
slightly at the butler's polite unwillingness to mention that she had been in
the shower, and acknowledged that Batman must have told Alfred at least the
basics regarding their "circumstances." She was grateful for his
tact; the Watchtower would have been abuzz with new rumors had they known she
was visiting him alone less than three hours after GL had found them in the
kitchen. She had taken a few hours to herself after Batman's summons to the
cave; she felt she needed to calm down before she saw him again. She had
written a letter to the Chinese government, contacted Artemis to discuss Cassie's
training schedule while Themyscira was being rebuilt,
then showered and taped her ribs. They would heal quickly, but the pressure of
the tape eased the pain her movements caused her while they knitted back
together.
"Would
you like any dinner if you wait, miss, or would you rather return when Master
Bruce does?"
"Thank
you, but no dinner, Alfred." She looked toward the huge computer screen at
the center of the bank of computers. A fuzzy image of a large male pointing a
gun at what looked like a bank teller filled one half of the monitor; the other
side had a name and a list of stats.
Diana nodded
toward the monitor. "Is that Bruce's 'business'?"
Alfred
nodded. "A particularly nasty criminal element, I believe. He held up this
teller this afternoon; just before you arrived, Oracle managed to track down
this man, and Master Bruce went out to apprehend him."
Intuition made Wonder Woman ask, "It wasn't just
a hold up, was it?"
"No,
Miss Diana," Alfred said. "I'm afraid that the teller and a security
guard were killed during the robbery. He didn't use the gun to do it."
Diana looked
at the statistics for the man more closely. "It says that he's a metahuman. Class C strength and speed, Class B
invulnerability," she read. She turned back to Alfred. "Why didn't he
wait until I got here? Even with his belt of tricks, taking this guy down won't
be easy."
"I don't
expect it will be; I'm afraid that this might be another night spent bandaging
and medicating him," Alfred said.
Determined,
Diana walked over to the computer station. "Not tonight. Will you show me
on this thing where to find him?"
"Of course. However, I would suggest that you do not
go."
"Why not?"
"Master
Bruce does not accept help often from what he calls the "flashier
heroes" for two simple reasons, Miss Diana: flashy heroes are obvious
targets that are dangerous for non-powered humans to be around, and, if word
were to spread that the Batman needed help, he would lose that element of fear
that, more often than not, gives him an edge over the criminals of the
city."
Diana
hesitated, then insisted, "But if he's lying
bloodied and beaten, they'll lose their fear of him, too."
Alfred
smiled. "He's walked away on a broken leg and breathing with punctured
lungs, miss. He doesn't show them weakness, and they would consider help from a
metahuman a weakness."
"By the
gods, that man is stubborn!" Diana drummed her fingers on the console,
thinking. Her gaze lit upon a Robin costume in a lighted tube. So damn
stubborn, she thought. Even when Robin had been killed by the Joker--a boy who
had practically been his own son--he had not sought comfort from anyone.
Instead, he had embroiled himself deeper in his quest, shutting out nearly
everyone for months. How in the world did she expect him to let her help with one
metahuman, when he didn't accept help when his world
was ripped apart? How would he--
Wait, she
thought. The costume.
"Alfred,
is there another Bat costume that I could use?"
Alfred didn't
hesitate. "Of course, miss. We'd have to alter it slightly, though."
"Very
slightly," she said, pulling off her WW breastplate. "We don't have
much time."
***
Diana looked
at herself in the mirror. The costume was too big; it hung from her loosely in
several places. Alfred had taken out some of the body armor, zipped her lasso
into a pocket in the cape lining--"just in case," he had said-- and
covered her bracelets with the costume's sleeves and gauntlets. Diana watched
as Alfred used a penknife to cut a slit in the back of the cowl and pulled her
braided hair through the hole.
"That
should suffice, miss," Alfred said, stepping back to survey his handiwork.
"I have a locator that you can use to find Master Bruce. I use it when he
needs me to send him one of the jets or collect him when he can't make it home
himself."
"Hopefully
this won't be one of those nights." She checked her image in the mirror
again, amazed by the difference the costume made for her look and, she noted
with some excitement mixed with trepidation, feel. She felt more powerful, more
dangerous. "Any last minute suggestions, Alfred?"
"Two,
Miss Diana." Alfred adjusted the cape so that it draped around her
shoulders, hiding her body. "Try to make yourself
look as big and as frightening as possible. Be theatrical, but don't use your
powers in a flashy or obvious way. The point is not to seem metahuman."
Diana nodded.
"And suggestion number two?"
"Amazons
are hunters as well as warriors, aren't they?"
"The best in the world, Alfred."
"I
suggest then, Miss Diana, that you change your demeanor and approach from that
of a warrior to that of a hunter." He smiled very slightly. "
"I *am*
Wonder Woman, Alfred."
"No."
Alfred turned her to look in the mirror again. "Tonight you are Diana,
goddess of the hunt."
Diana smiled.
"You are well versed in your mythology."
"There
have been many nights when I've stayed awake waiting for Master Bruce with
nothing to do but read, miss. Hopefully I'll sleep well tonight."
Diana picked
up the Bat locator. "I'll do what I can, Alfred." She turned and flew
toward the cave entrance.
Alfred
watched her leave. "Happy hunting, miss."
[Chapter 1] [Chapter
2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Chapter 2:
The Jungle
Batman
shifted his weight to his right leg to keep his left foot from going numb. He
glanced at Batgirl, briefly envying her easy posture before returning his
attention to the scene below. Four men sat around a table counting money. A
fifth stood by the door as sentry; two more were in an enclosed office. The
room was open and well-lighted, making it almost impossible to take the men out
one by one; he and Batgirl would have to make one concerted effort and take
down the men in the room as quickly as possible before the two in the office
came out, guns blasting. Normally, Batman would not hesitate this long. It was
usually easy, especially with Batgirl's help, to have men in the open disabled
before anyone in another room was even aware they were under attack; in this
case, however, one of the men, David George, was metahuman.
Batman ran
the scenario through his head several times: Batgirl takes out the sentry then
the three non-powered men while he goes after the metahuman,
trying to knock out George chemically at first, but if his metabolism processes
the depressant too fast, Batman has to fight George, whose strength and speed
far exceed his own. Batman doesn't underestimate his own talents--he's fought metahumans and won many times--but doesn't like to
physically engage a metahuman in a fight if he can
help it, especially when that metahuman is backed up
by two men with guns who enjoy the cover of an enclosed room.
Batman didn't
like the odds. Even with Batgirl's amazing talent to help him, fighting David
George involved taking on a metahuman whose abilities
weren't well-documented and whose known history--which consisted of one double
murder during a bank heist earlier that day--was spotty at best. It was a wild
card he didn't need.
A change in
the shadows to his right caught his eye even as Batgirl pointed at the movement.
And here is another unneeded wild card, he thought. He changed his lenses to
night vision so that he could see into the gloom of the rafters. A Bat costume? One of his, he noted immediately. Female form, long black braid.
Diana.
She ran
silently along the wooden beams on the opposite side of the warehouse ceiling
from where he and Batgirl waited, vaulted over a pipe, and then crouched in a
corner, out of the sight of the men below. Batman frowned. Wonder Woman didn't
move like that. Diana ran boldly, with purpose and efficiency, like a warrior
into battle. This woman's movements were subtle, almost feline in their
stealth.
He knew
Batgirl had seen Wonder Woman in
Batgirl
nodded. He noticed that one of the men below had changed position without him
being aware of it.
Diana. She
had distracted his thoughts all evening in the cave; now she was distracting
him in person on patrol.
Batman wanted
to swear, but instead forced himself to consider how her arrival could benefit
their operation. Aside from his own circle of Robin, Nightwing,
and Oracle, there was no one in the world--maybe Superman--that he trusted more
than Diana. He could count on her to help him with George, even though what he
wanted to do was tear a verbal strip out of her for wearing his costume and
daring to come to his aid. In his city.
He patched
himself through to the receiver in the ears of the cowl she was wearing.
"I told you to stay out of
He could
almost hear the smile in her voice when she said, "You invited me to the
cave, you are the one who left George's stats up on the screen, and you know my
personality; it doesn't take the World's Greatest Detective to know that I
would come here. Count yourself lucky I changed costumes and am doing it on
your terms."
Bruce
frowned. She was right--and he didn't like it.
"And
don't call me 'Princess.'" He almost smiled at that. He hadn't forgotten
she'd given up her title, of course; he had known it would irritate her. She
was so predictable.
He frowned
again. She hadn't been predictable in the JLA kitchen earlier. Neither had he.
But they'd deal with that later.
"Diana,
you cover the two in the office; they've got guns. Batgirl will take out the
guard and the three non-metas around the table--they
are armed, too. I'll hit George with the narcazine.
Hopefully he'll go down. If not, I take Diana's place, and Diana, you take out
George, as quickly and cleanly as possible. Batgirl, you back me up and take
care of any unexpecteds. On my
mark."
He threw
three batarangs, destroying the fluorescent light
tubes over the table. One second. He dropped to the floor behind George;
Batgirl had already taken out the sentry and was on the men at the table before
they could stand up. Two seconds. Batman broke the vial of narcazine
under George's nose as the meta stood, and heard
Diana's murmur of astonishment over the transmitter as Batgirl took down the
three men with a fist, foot and final backward kick. Three seconds. George
swayed. Batman heard shouts from inside the office. Four seconds. George fell
to his knees, then onto his face. Five seconds. Silence now from inside the
office.
Batman turned
to watch Diana, who cocked her head as if listening to the men inside.
"I'm going up," she said, and he watched as she lifted herself to the
low roof of the office, sliding along the top on her hands and knees. She stood
when she reached the middle, her head inches from the rafters, then fell
through the roof. He realized she must have put enough downward pressure on the
roof to cave it in, probably taking out the light fixtures in the process.
There were yells from inside, a shot, and two distinct thuds. At Batman's feet,
George stirred. Bruce flipped backwards just as the man's beefy hand closed on
the air where his legs had been. George was on his feet in an instant; Batman
got another vial ready, but wasn't sure he'd have the chance to get it close
enough. "Diana," was all he was able to say before George hit him,
knocking him backward through the door of the office. Underestimated
his speed, Batman thought. Knocked on my
ass--humiliating.
He felt the
brush of Diana's cape as she left the office. From his perspective on the
ground, she looked taller than normal--no, he realized as she drew close to
George, she was floating about twelve inches above the floor, the cape hiding
the fact that her feet weren't touching the ground. George tried to hit her;
she caught his fist mid-swing. She bent over him; Batman didn't think that
George could see anything in the dim light other than a menacing shadow coming
closer and closer to his face.
Diana--closely
imitating his own voice, Batman realized--said,
"You murdered two people in my city. Never again."
She slammed her fist into George's chin; he flew backwards and hit the ground.
Diana settled to the ground and walked to his prone form, bending to examine
him. "He's out," she announced in her own voice.
Standing in
the shattered office doorway, Batman contacted Alfred. "Call GCPD and have
them bring their reinforced wagon to pick up George and six others at this
address."
"Very
well, sir. Did Miss Diana find you?"
"She's
here."
"Very good, sir. I hope she was able to offer
assistance." Alfred paused. "Were you aware, sir, that the Bat-signal
has been lit?"
Batman looked
up at the ceiling automatically. No skylight to confirm the Bat-signal. "How long ago?"
"Only a few minutes."
"Thank
you, Alfred. I'll be back later."
"Good
luck, sir."
Batman broke
the connection and looked at Diana. She was shaking hands with Batgirl; Bruce
imagined that under her mask Cassandra's face was probably filled with
adoration, not unlike Dick's had been the first time he'd met Superman.
"I would
love to learn some of your techniques," Diana was telling her as Bruce
bent to snap titanium cuffs around George's wrists. Batgirl nodded, then shrugged, pointing at Batman. It's his decision, her
gestures said. Diana glanced at Bruce. "What do you think?"
"Batgirl,
cuff the others." He tossed her some plastic quick-tites.
She quickly complied. "I didn’t know you did impressions, Diana," he
said when Batgirl was out of earshot.
"Kal taught me." Batman saw the flash of her teeth in
the dark. "’Precise muscle control,’" she
quoted in
"Keep
not practicing it." Batman reached forward and tugged the locator out of
Diana’s belt, then punched a few buttons. "I’m resetting this to locate
the Batmobile. I need to you stay here with George
until the PD arrives, then meet me at the car. No flying, no powers. If you
have to, walk." He gave her the instrument, turned to go, then said over his shoulder, "Stay out of sight of the police
when they get here."
"I’ll
skulk in a corner, let a detective talk to me, then
when he looks away for a brief second I’ll disappear, leaving him scratching
his head in wonder." Batman could hear the smile in her voice. Her current
cheerfulness was almost as distracting as the memory of what they had done
earlier that day, and how she had felt. So, he ignored it.
"Good.
Batgirl, when you are done here, go patrol east-side. Keep in touch through
Oracle."
***
Wonder Woman
crouched on a gargoyle, looking out over the city. She could see the Batmobile below her; Batman was nowhere in sight. The
police had arrived at the warehouse quickly; an unconscious George had posed no
problem to them. After allowing them a shadowing glimpse of her on the rooftop,
she sped away. She hoped she was an imposing a figure to them as Bruce seemed
to be.
That was
power, she thought. Fear. Not the kind she could
instill with her fists and strength, but the type of fear that made men stay at
home instead of selling dope on corners. Not a fear of death—she knew that she
inspired that kind of fear in some people; they looked at what she could do and
imagined her crushing them, killing them with her powers. No, the criminals in
She, on the
other hand, had been trying for years to instill a love of peace to the world
without much success. And she was starting to wonder if people weren’t swayed
by love, but by fear and hate.
Diana watched
as, below, a woman walking down the street was pushed into an alley by a much
larger man. She heard a short scream, quickly muffled. She started to fly down,
then stopped herself. She would continue to play by
his rules tonight. Pulling a grappling hook from her belt, she aimed it at an
outcropping on a lower building. It wedged firmly around the ledge; she smiled.
It wasn’t much different than her lasso. She swung into the air, fighting her
urge to control her descent, and for a moment felt the unfamiliar panic of
freefall. Her swing reached its downward arc, and she let go of the rope,
exhilarated by that instant of fear, landing silently on the sidewalk next to
the alley. It was dim, but not dim enough, she thought. She would make this
quick, no theatrics, so that the man and woman would never have time to realize
that the face showing beneath the mask wasn’t masculine.
Diana stepped
into the alley, then stopped. The man lay facedown on
the pavement, and the woman was holding her shoe in her hand. She looked over
at Diana. Fright and pride warred on her features. "I did it! Just like in
my self-defense class; and Jerry had said they were a waste of time. Ha ha. I just thought, 'What would Batman do?' even though I
really don't believe in you, but here you are." She stopped to catch a
breath. "And I was so afraid, but I guess it was like those
grandmother-picking-the-car-up-off-the-grandson things. One whack! and that was all she wrote." She began laughing
hysterically.
Diana cuffed
the unconscious man, checked his vitals, and said, "He should stay out
until the police arrive. Do you have a phone?" Shaking and holding her
sides in her laughter, the woman nodded. "Call the police."
"Oh-Okay." The woman rummaged through her purse, trying
to calm herself. She pulled out her cell phone triumphantly after a few
moments; the alley was empty except for her attempted rapist and her. She
looked up and down the alley, then ran to the corner
to look up and down the deserted street. "Holy shit," she said
finally.
Back on the
gargoyle, Diana drew her cape tightly around herself, trying to dispel a cold
that had settled deep within her. But it wouldn't be warmed, she acknowledged,
because it wasn't physical. The police arrived at the alley, their lights
flashing garish red, white and blue over the gothic facade of the buildings.
Her own colors; here in
Diana traced
back through her memories; she could remember several women mentioning how she
had inspired them, but only to a small extent. Some women left their abusive
husbands, or they stood up for themselves at a male dominated workplace--Diana
recognized the value of that for the individual woman, but she had always hoped
for more. That men and women would join her cause and act in the name of peace
and love, instead of waiting for Wonder Woman to do it all for them. And Batman,
he had inspired action from an outmatched woman who hadn't even known that he
was anything more than an urban legend. Wonder Woman was a public presence--a
reality--and she couldn't generate that kind of action, no matter how many
speeches she made, supervillians she fought or TV
shows she appeared in, espousing her message. What was she doing wrong?
Diana barely
kept herself from jumping when Batman appeared beside her. "Let's go,
Princess." She curled her lip at the name but didn't say anything; instead,
she followed him over the rooftop and swung down to the Batmobile.
The top slid open and she climbed into the passenger seat.
"Back to
the cave?" she asked.
He didn't
spare her a glance as he reversed the car. "No. We are going to pay a
doctor a visit first."
Diana bit her
lip, wondering how to phrase her reply, before finally saying, "Bruce, I
don't think that is necessary. I won't become pregnant."
His head
whipped around and he slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched. Diana could
see the horror and surprise in his eyes, and in the expression on his face
beneath the line of his mask. His voice hoarse, he said, "No, that's not
what I--" He shook his head. Diana watched in fascination as he composed himself, became The Bat once more. He put the Batmobile into gear once more.
"The
Joker escaped tonight, and his last visitor was a Dr. Kaeklis.
Gotham PD has tried to question him about what he
told the Joker, but he is claiming doctor-patient confidentiality. We are going
to get some answers out of him."
"What if
he won't talk?"
Batman smiled
grimly. "That's why you are here. If I have to administer a truth serum,
he might be disoriented enough to only speak his native language--Greek."
The buildings
seemed to fly by outside the car, a collage of gothic architecture and modern sparity. Diana was struck again by how alien this place
felt to her. "Your ethics are questionable, but when it comes to the
Joker..." Her voice trailed off.
"Exactly."
***
After
remotely commanding his computers to sweep for transactions involving the
Joker's usual aliases, Batman cast a sidelong glance at the woman beside him.
It had been five minutes since Diana had last spoken. She had pushed back her
mask and he could see her face clearly; she was gazing blankly out of the passenger
window.
She was
brooding, he could tell; he usually had a monopoly on that. It didn't exactly
make him nervous, but he couldn't ignore the fact that the one and only other
time he had seen her brood, six hours later she had thrown a piece of granite
at his head and put him an escape pod headed for the asteroid belt so that she
could die in place of the JLA. It was probably better to find out now, he
thought, what was going on in her head. He didn't think it was their sexual
encounter in the kitchen. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that yet
anyway, so he started out on a safe topic--the Joker.
"More
often than not I break a few ethical rules when dealing with the Joker,"
he said abruptly.
Diana's eyes
narrowed. "You never start conversations."
"I am a
man of surprises." He ignored her disbelieving snort. Then her eyes
widened, and he knew she was thinking of what happened in the Watchtower and
how *that* must have surprised her, so he hastily continued. "I am simply
stating that in times of life or death circumstances, ethical considerations
are by necessity often thrown out the door. The path that you followed when
confronting that dragon wasn't exactly black and white. You betrayed and
deceived every one of your friends."
"I'd do
it again in a heartbeat," she replied, her face serious. "It broke my
heart to do it, but if it saved your lives, I wouldn't hesitate to do it
again." She paused. "It did make me, however, more sympathetic to
your situation when you devised ways to take out every JLA member. What I did,
I did to keep all of you from dying. What you did was plan a way to save the
world from us."
She added
quietly, "I'm not sure there is a difference between the two
anymore."
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not
sure." She waved a hand in the air as if whatever she wanted to say she
could grab out of thin air and hold on to. Batman didn't think he had ever seen
her at such a loss for words. "I think...I think I can't help but wonder
if the world does need saving from us. We have good intentions, but are we
doing more harm than good?" She leaned her head back against the headrest
and closed her eyes, as if she was very tired. "How many years have I been
in Man's World? How long has Kal been here? Are we
just making the problem worse by letting the people of the world rely on us?"
"Yes,"
Batman said as he pulled to a stop behind an apartment complex. "And no. And it's not just you and Clark, you
know."
"I know,
but we are considered the symbols, the epitome of the powered hero." She
grinned ruefully. "That sounds incredibly conceited."
Batman
shrugged and opened the car. "It's true." He got out. "We're
here."
Diana pulled
the mask forward over her face. "So I gathered," she said dryly, and
climbed out.
"He's in
one of the penthouses."
Diana tilted
her neck back, looking up at the building. It was smooth glass and steel.
"On what do we fasten our ropes?"
"We are
in a hurry. We'll fly." He stepped close to Diana and put his arm around
her waist. She immediately lifted them, sliding smoothly through the air. He
gave himself a brief moment to enjoy the feel of her taut muscles under his
own, then tried to stop feeling when he realized that
enjoyment was quickly turning to lust.
"This is
cheating," he heard Diana mutter. He didn't know if she was talking about
the flying or the physical contact. He forcefully pushed every thought not
concerning the Joker and his escape out of his mind:
"His is
the second balcony from the top."
Diana set him
down easily on the landing. He immediately moved to the shadows and motioned
for her to follow him. Kaeklis lived alone;
hopefully, he wouldn't have company tonight--it would make this easier.
"I can
hear snoring from out here." Diana said. Batman nodded; snoring was a good
sign.
He picked the
lock on the French doors, then slipped inside. Diana
trailed him, as silent as he had been. At the bedroom, he signaled for her to
stay outside. He listened at the door--light snoring, as Diana had said. He
turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, heard a click, took
in the scene with a glance. He turned and ran back to the balcony, trusting
that Diana would follow him, and that she would catch him when he dove from the
edge. She caught him two stories down, knocking the breath from him; above, the
penthouse exploded.
Diana dropped
him unceremoniously to the ground, glass and burning debris raining down on
them. "I’m going back up," she shouted, then flew back into the smoke
and flames.
***
"Just a
few singed hairs, Alfred," Diana was saying as Bruce came out of the
changing room. "The fire exploded outwards instead of upwards, luckily.
There were only a few flames when I reached the families in the apartments
above and below."
Bruce caught
the glance his butler threw his way. "She has a bunch of glass in her back
that needs to be cleaned out, Alfred."
Diana glared
at him. "I’m a fast healer."
"Miss,
if I may say, your healing abilities seem to be reduced lately." Alfred
looked pointedly at the faint scars over Diana’s eye that had been deep
scratches three weeks ago. They all knew there shouldn’t have been any sign of
them.
"But
those are because the Cheetah is a magical being…" Diana started to argue,
then stopped as Bruce shook his head slightly.
"It’s no
use, Diana. Submit to him now, or he’ll force you to later, with much
unpleasantness."
Diana looked
between his amused face and Alfred’s unyielding one. "Very
well."
Batman turned
to his computers as Diana slid off the top of the Bat-costume. He began running
a search for laboratories connected with Dr. Kaeklis’
medical practice.
"What
was in the room that tipped you off, besides the click when you opened the
door?"
He looked
back at her. She was facedown on the med table, Alfred working on her back with
a small sponge and a pair of tweezers. Her ribs were taped—Batman didn’t
remember them being taped earlier, and briefly wondered what had happened
between the time he left her in the kitchen and she arrived in the cave—and he
could see splotches of red on the tape where the glass from the explosion had
acted as a projectile into her skin. She didn’t wince as Alfred probed at a
particularly nasty cut.
"This
one will need one or two stitches, miss."
Diana opened
her mouth, then shut it. Batman smiled and turned back
to his console. She had probably been going to argue about stitches, then realized the futility of it. Alfred was immovable when
it came to caring for injuries properly.
"Green
and purple balloons. "Die, Batsy"
and "Ha Ha" written on them. Kaeklis was propped up in the bed; he’d already been
administered a fatal dose of Joker venom. The snoring was coming from a tape
recorder."
Diana sighed.
"I should have heard the tape recorder mechanism; I just wasn’t listening
close enough."
"We
can’t all have atomic level hearing and x-ray vision." Bruce found the lab
he was looking for, then swore. "Dammit. Kaeklis used a Luthor subsidiary. If it had been a Wayne Corp lab, this
would be much simpler."
"How
long will it take to sort through the files?"
He looked
back at her—Alfred was sewing up one of the wounds. "With Luthor, it’s not a matter of sorting, but of access.
Sorting will be relatively easy; we’ll look for tests from Kaeklis’
office in the last two weeks that are numbered differently than usual, since
the inmates at Arkham use certain codes. It’s
supposed to be a way of protecting their identity, but to me it is a red flag.
Access, however, is completely different. Luthor is
almost as security conscious as Bruce Wayne. I’ll put Oracle on that part of
it." He tapped a few keys, creating a non-visual link between his computer
and Barbara’s—partly to keep Diana from learning Oracle’s true identity, and
partly because he didn’t want Barbara to see Diana in a Bat-costume, half
naked, in the cave. He sent Barbara the data with a few more taps of the keys.
Diana said
idly, "Did I ever tell you about the time in
Bruce
swiveled his chair around, interested. "No. I knew you had an encounter
with him there, but I didn’t know he had poisoned you. That wasn’t in the
file."
"It
wasn’t in the file because the paralysis didn’t last more than a minute or two.
I don’t think that it was supposed to be fatal; it just paralyzed me."
Bruce
frowned. "I’ve seen the Flash paralyzed by that venom for nearly thirty
minutes, and he process poisons faster than anyone else I know of."
Alfred
stepped back from the table. "That should do it, miss. I’ll be back
shortly with a robe."
Diana sat up.
"Thanks, Alfred." She twisted from side to side, testing the bandages
and stitches. Bruce averted his eyes. He had seen her nude before they had had
sex; her costume had ripped during a battle, or it had pleased a villain to try
to embarrass her with her nakedness, which never worked, much to the villain’s
disgust, and he knew Diana had different ideas of modesty than most of the
world—growing up on an island populated entirely by warrior females did
that—but he was too aware of her physically now to pretend that he just saw her
as a comrade-in-arms tonight. And it bothered him, he admitted to himself, that
obviously Diana didn’t think of him as anything other than a fellow warrior,
since her breasts were in full view, and she made no effort to cover herself.
He wanted her
to see him, if just for a moment, as a man, and she a woman. To do so would be
an indulgence; he should be investigating the Joker's escape, or at least
showing her the video from the kitchen.
An
indulgence, he reminded himself. But still, he let his expression change slightly.
His lids lowered and his face showed some of the desire he was feeling. He
didn't use playboy Bruce Wayne's lazily seductive look; Diana would never fall
for that. This was The Bat, wanting what was in front of him--Diana.
"So, as
I was saying, I was paralyzed," Diana continued, then looked up. Her
expression froze, eyes as wide as a jacklighted doe's. A faint blush spread across her
cheekbones; she looked away. "And, um..." She brought an arm up
across her breasts. She glanced at his face again briefly, then
focused on a point above his head. "Uh, then I left my body to dance with
Pan, then came back, and the chaos of Pan's dance overwhelmed the poison, and I
was free," she said in a rush.
Bruce stood
and walked slowly to the med-table. Diana's eyes darted from side to side, as
if looking for somewhere to go.
"That
sounds . . . dangerous." He lowered his voice on the last word. He reached
out, lifted her chin. She licked her lower lip nervously. He heard her breath
catch, saw the same expression on her face that she had worn in the kitchen in
that first wild moment, except that this time her eyes weren't glazed--she was
aware of what she was doing. So was he.
An indulgence. But he knew now that he would kiss her, the
lust was surging like it had before, only more clearly, hotter, so he would
kiss her and then he would be inside her, on the table, finding comfort finally
in a place he usually felt pain, or on his chair, where he spent most of his
time solving crimes, alone, almost always alone, the chair where he had spent
too many seconds, minutes, thinking about her, even before the kitchen, before
tonight.
Alfred
cleared his throat behind them. Batman pulled away, handed her a towel from the
cart beside the table, casually, as if he had only approached the table to do
that. "This should get the rest of the soot off of your face." Indulgence over. Time to focus on work.
Diana glanced
at Alfred, accepting the towel. She cleared her throat. "Thank you."
She scrubbed her face with the towel for a moment; by the time she was done,
her face was composed, serene. Alfred gave her a robe, which she slipped on.
She continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. "It wasn't
dangerous to leave to go to Pan--indeed, it would
probably have been disastrous had I stayed paralyzed. It wasn't like going to
the Underworld or a demon dimension; Pan lives in a place untouched by outside
influence, so there's little danger of the spirit being damaged while it is
outside of the body."
"Actually,
I meant embracing chaos." Bruce slipped the security disc from the
Watchtower into the computer.
"Then it
probably was a little dangerous."
Bruce lifted
his left eyebrow. "Why? What happened then?"
She shrugged.
"It worked out for the best. I told him some jokes, electrocuted myself on
a light socket, then lit a fuse on his bomb." She
grinned. "I told him the fuse was from my Wonder Utility Belt."
Bruce
laughed; behind him, he heard Alfred's soft chuckle.
Diana smiled,
then said thoughtfully. "Of course, the hard part
was repressing the chaos after that. It's still in me, just not as immediate or
as powerful." She yawned. The clock read four-thirty. "How do you
manage to stay awake so late every night?"
Bruce
replied, only half-seriously, "I have a playboy reputation to protect.
Stay awake all night, sleep all day, be late for meetings, and the like."
He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard, calling up video from the security
disc. He glanced at Alfred, signaled that he and Diana needed privacy.
Alfred nodded
slightly. "I'll bring you some coffee, miss," the butler said, then
went back up to the main house.
Batman waved
her over to the console, determined to keep his hands off of her. The
indulgence is over, he reminded himself. There is only this case. But he was
still hyper-aware of her movements, her scent, her
voice. "This is why I called you down here."
"When
was this?" She was looking at the stilled image on the oversized screen.
Her sister, Donna, Nightwing, the Flash, and some
other Titans were gathered around the table.
"Thirty-two
days ago." Batman pointed at Troia. "Watch
your sister."
He pushed a
button. The video began to play. Onscreen, Donna got up from her seat, walked
to the refrigerator. She opened the freezer, pulled out a half-gallon of ice
cream. At the table, Arsenal and the Flash began a heated argument about cow's
milk versus goat's milk, capturing the amused attention of the rest of the
Titans.
"Here it
is," Batman said. Donna pulled something from a small pocket on her
uniform, threw it on the ice cream bucket and into the freezer. Her mouth moved
slightly. She placed the bucket back into the freezer compartment.
Diana's brow
furrowed. "I think she just cast a spell."
Batman
nodded. "That is what I thought. Interestingly, throughout the tape it shows
the Green Lantern going to the freezer for ice cream one hundred and seven
times."
"Why
would she--" Diana shook her head. "Never mind about that right now.
She's off-planet, we can't ask until she makes it back here."
"I know.
Helping the S'Edput colonizers rescue some of their
miners. Five miles underground, out of transmission range." He pulled up
another file from the disc. The two of them earlier that day.
"I've heard estimates of at least another one and
Drumming her
fingernails on the console, Diana said, "Yes, that's right. There's got to
be a way to figure out what the spell was before that, though."
On the
monitor, Diana leans against the counter next to the fridge, eating a
pomegranate, carefully taking the seeds off, one by one, then
popping them into her mouth. Batman enters the room, heading directly to the
fridge for water.
Diana greets
him, then mentions the Wayne Foundation auction and
fundraiser at which she is slated to speak in two weeks.
She asks him,
"Do you have your date lined up yet?"
"Yes."
He looks into the fridge, frowns. "The water is gone."
"Wally
just drank it all. Try the sink," Diana says.
"Why?"
"Because
he was thirsty, and because there is water in the
tap."
The camera
caught Batman's long-suffering look. "Why do you ask about the date?"
Diana sighs.
"Mine just turned me down."
"Funny."
Batman says, filling a glass. "Count yourself lucky. Bruce Wayne is
obliged to try to seduce all of his dates. On a date with Wonder Woman, not only
would they film every second of the seduction, the paparazzi would follow us
into the bedroom."
"Do you
actually seduce them?" Diana looks horrified by the thought. "ALL of
them?"
"No. Too many scars for them to ask questions about." Batman
opens the freezer, looking for ice. "Usually Wayne just kisses and
fondles, then slips them something harmless so that they think that something
happened but they won't remember, or he tells them that something isn't
working."
Diana
chuckles. "So that is where those rumors started."
"What
rumors?" Batman looks at her sharply. He jerks an ice cube tray from the
back of the freezer; several ice cream cartons start to wobble.
"That
Bruce Wayne--" Diana puts out her hand to catch a carton as it threatens
to fall, "--isn't interested in women. That he can't do the deed. I read
it in a tabloid, I think." She replaces the carton in the freezer; Batman
sticks the tray back; their hands--his gloved, hers bare--touching in the
process. Their expressions and postures suddenly change.
"I can
do the deed, Diana," Batman says, pulling her close. She wraps her arms
around his neck, lifts herself into his kiss.
In the cave,
Batman stilled the video. The tension between them was palpable. Determined to
remain on track, Batman ignored Diana's quick, heavy breathing, ignored his own
urge to throw her down and re-enact the scene that had been about to take place
onscreen
"As you
can see," he said, "there was a significant change when we made
contact with the ice cream cartons and/or the freezer."
"Yes,"
Diana whispered. She said at a normal volume, "You lip read. Is there a
way that we can find out what she said in the spell?"
"I've
had the computers working on isolating her voice from the rest of the video,
but I don't think she said it out loud." Batman made a few adjustments on
his computer. "We might be able to, at least somewhat, determine what she
said. The problem is that her profile is to the camera."
"Can it
recreate her face in a 3-D model?"
"That
might work. It'll take me a few minutes."
Diana
wandered around the cave while Bruce worked; he was thankful for that--it was
easier to concentrate when she wasn't within arms reach.
"I've
got it," he said after ten minutes.
Diana
returned to the console station. He played the computer generated model of her
mouth movements, and he realized almost immediately that it wasn't English, and
told Diana.
"Between
the two of us, however, I'm sure that we know enough languages that we can do
this," he added.
He began
sounding out the words. Diana leaned in closer to him, listening carefully.
"It's
Greek," she announced. She picked up a pencil and starting writing what
Donna had said. They went through it three times--some of the words they simply
could not identify with certainty. Lip reading did not provide perfect phonetic
translation.
She read,
"By the gods of Olympus, I entreat that desire suppressed, want not
wanted, shall be--this isn't clear here, it sounds like both 'enacted on' and
'horseflies.'" She grinned. "I think it is 'enacted on'--enacted on,
until--and I'm not sure about this, either, but I think it is--the object is
destroyed." Diana sighed. "I'm pretty sure that we missed a few words
in there."
Batman
nodded. "She was whispering, so she wasn't enunciating and using her mouth
as precisely as someone speaking at a normal tone would. We were bound to miss
a few." He hesitated before adding, "It's pretty clear what the spell
was, though. 'Want not wanted.' For me, I've always
had a thing for unattainable brunettes: Selina, Talia. I suppose it's my way of punishing myself for surviving when my parents didn't. Wanting what I
could never have. Up there, that must have been you." He was only
partially lying; he didn't think that Diana would pick up the lies--she was too
distracted, shaken.
He saw the
brief flash of hurt in her eyes and suppressed the niggling of guilt it caused.
She said, "And for me--well, I've been feeling a little lonely lately, and
my date had just turned me down, and I think that I just wanted that physical
comfort that a man's touch could bring me."
Batman bit
back a snort of laughter. She was a terrible liar. At least his lie fit in with
his personality, so that it was plausible. The idea that Diana would crave a
man's touch because she was lonely and depressed was ludicrous. He wondered why
she thought he would believe it. And what was she lying about to hide?
"Well,"
Diana said, looking desperately toward the transporter. "I can go destroy
the fridge. The middle of a volcano should do it."
"'Destroy
the object'? Good idea." Batman watched as she grabbed her uniform from a
counter and hurried to the changing room. He smiled when she closed the door. Diana, modest in front of him? It seemed that she was aware
of him now, in a way she hadn't previously been. It used to be, she would have
stripped down and changed right there.
He suddenly
scowled. He shouldn't be taking pleasure in this, he thought. She was going to
go to the Watchtower, destroy the freezer, and it would be over.
It seemed too
easy, though.
Wonder Woman
emerged in her uniform a minute later. He had returned to the Joker file,
searching for signs of unusual activity before the escape.
"Will
you consider letting me train a few times with Batgirl?"
Swinging his
chair around to face her, Batman shook his head. "I don't think so."
He was
relieved when she didn't argue. Batgirl would probably have benefited from
training with a powered individual, especially a warrior as skilled as Diana;
he just wanted to limit his own contact with Diana for a while.
She entered
the transporter, punched the coordinates for the JLA tower. She met his eyes
for the first time since their contact on the med-table, and said wistfully,
"It may be the spell talking, but I almost regret destroying the fridge.
It was a great night, Bruce. All of it. And if things
were different, if things would work, I would love to do it all again."
She smiled wickedly. "Especially the sex."
She vanished
with a buzz of electrified air molecules, leaving Batman in his cave, his mouth
open, expression astounded.
When that
woman was honest, he thought, she was REALLY honest.
***
Great Hera, are you stupid? Diana raged at herself as she strode
down the corridor toward the Watchtower's kitchen. As priceless as his
expression had been . . . she shook her head. How would she look at him at the
next JLA meeting?
It was the
spell, she reminded herself. Just the spell.
In the
kitchen, she tore the refrigerator from the wall, said hello to an amused
Martian Manhunter, who was eating cereal at the
table, and carried it back down the corridor to the transporter. She sent it to
the center of
She opened a
link to the Green Lantern. "GL, are you awake?"
Kyle, his
hair mussed and eyes sleepy, appeared on the monitor. "Wonder Woman?"
"Kyle,
do you still want ice cream?"
He looked
confused. "What? No." Then, more happily, "No!
Whoo hoo! My craving's
gone!"
Diana
frowned. Hers wasn't.
***
Bruce spent
two restless nights, thoughts of Diana plaguing both his dreams and waking
moments. Destroying the refrigerator hadn't worked; avoiding her wasn't
working. GL had been released, though.
Batman had
been through the video several times, but couldn't find anything. His
investigation into Joker's escape was going nowhere, too. The clown simply
wasn't making appearances anywhere. He told himself to concentrate on his work,
to forget her. It hadn't worked.
And he wanted
to see her.
He told
himself that he was simply worried; her behavior had been, of late, slightly
erratic. Their conversation that night in the Bat-mobile had betrayed a
shifting in Diana's beliefs, and doubt in her mission. He told himself that he
was simply going to keep an eye on her until he was sure that she didn't pose a
danger to herself or anybody else.
With Batgirl as an unwitting chaperone.
He could tell
Diana was surprised that he had contacted her. She looked distracted, uncertain
of how to act. Wondering if she was having the same problem getting him off her
mind as he had thinking about anything but her, he said, "I'm sending you
an address. It's a sewer entrance, and a map will be there.
"Why?"
"To
train with Batgirl."
He saw the
sudden excitement in her eyes; despite himself, he hoped that a little bit of
it was in anticipation of seeing him. "Then we will patrol. Seeing her
techniques is useless unless you see her in action."
"Thank
you, Batman. You won't regret it." She switched the monitor off.
"I hope
I won't, too," he said to himself, his words echoing in the depths of the
cave.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter
2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Chapter 3:
The Light
Dick Grayson
plopped down on the chair next to Barbara Gordon's desk and sighed heavily. He
sighed again, louder, when he noticed that she hadn't been paying attention to
his first one.
She looked up
from her computer screen. "What?" She wrinkled her nose. "What's
that smell?"
"Me."
He leaned over and pulled off a boot, grunting. "He's insane, Babs. In. Sane."
"The Joker? Of course he is." She glanced at a piece
of equipment when it beeped softly, and hit a few buttons on her keyboard. The
beeping stopped. "Get those boots out of here--god, you're all wet and
stinky. Change out of your uniform in the bathroom or something."
Dick sat
forward in the seat, waving a malodorous finger in front of her face. "Not
Joker. Batman. Our dear beloved
Bruce. You know Tim and I were going into the sewers, but do you know
why?"
"Tell me
before you permanently ruin that chair with the puddle you are creating,"
Barbara said, "then get out of here and change."
"Because
we were checking up on a lead he had. 'Dick, I need
you and Robin to check out this faint signal. It might be the first sign of the
Joker that we'd been hoping for,' he says." Dick swiped a hand through his
hair; droplets of water fell onto the desk. Barbara glared. "And you know
what the signal was from? A toy. A
dumb remote control boat that got caught in the sewers. Robin and I
chased that thing all the way to
"Well,
she is a princess. Or was," Barbara said. "And used
to be a goddess. Would you send her down there?"
Dick leaned
back in the chair. "I wouldn't presume to send her anywhere."
"My point exactly." Barbara turned back to her monitors.
"Go change, then bring back a mop."
"Yes,
ma'am," Dick stood and saluted her, but did as she said.
He returned
ten minutes later, showered and in fresh jeans and t-shirt, carrying a sponge
and a bottle of spray detergent.
"Good
boy," she said when she saw the cleaning supplies, and smiled. "Now
you smell like peaches."
"Yeah,
well, it's to serve as a startling juxtaposition to my astounding manliness."
Barbara
rolled her eyes. "Sure it is."
Dick looked
up at the screens, each filled with data or a video picture. "Anything
going on?"
"Batman
and Diana are on their way downtown to check out a tripped alarm in a jewelry
store, and Batgirl and Spoiler are chasing down some baddies east-side."
"No word
on the Joker?"
"None."
"How
comforting it is to know that he's out there, waiting, preparing to die and
most likely planning to take most of the city out with him," he said
dryly. "And nothing more on Dr. Kaeklis?"
Barbara
pushed her glasses up, eyed him seriously. "Except for that lab test
showing that Joker's gonna bite the big one anytime
soon, and one modest donation to the recently departed conjurer of gods, Maxie Zeus, there is no indication at all that Kaeklis had any dealings with any other criminals in his
life--ever."
"Maxie Zeus." Dick shuddered. "Now that scene
wasn't pretty. A possessed-Batman-as-god-of-fear-ugly-demon-thing gave even me
nightmares. Good thing Wonder Woman was there. Or is it Wonder Bat now?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "What is it with those two? Are they, you know,
doing it? I've heard rumors. . ." His voice trailed off.
Barbara
grinned. "From Wally?" Dick nodded. She
added, "So have I."
"Do you
think there's any truth to that? In the kitchen?"
"I don't
know, but--" Barbara stopped, and checked around the room to make sure
that Batman hadn't entered silently at some point. He had a habit of doing
that. "--Bruce removed the security video discs AND the backups for the
kitchen two weeks ago."
Dick's mouth
dropped open. "Holy secret humpings.
It's true then." He laughed, then quickly
sobered. "Wait, no it's not. Not only have they had Batgirl as a chaperone
eighty percent of the time, he's been like a bear with a sore head the last two
weeks, snapping and angry, and brooding even more than usual. I assumed it's
just the pressure over the Joker missing, but . . . well, let's face it: no man
on Earth--or beyond--could be unhappy while bumping uglies
with Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman!" He smiled dreamily.
Barbara
snorted. "You look like a horny calf when you get that look in your
eyes."
"Moo,"
Dick said, then sat up straight in shock when he heard
Diana's voice. He was relieved when he realized she was speaking over the
network.
"Oracle,
I'm plugging in a feed from the recorder on my cowl. We found a body on the
floor; see if you can run a make on his face. Looks like
there was a double-cross in here. I'll be up on the roof in a minute to
scan the onlookers; Batman thinks that this guy's partner will probably hang
around to get a look at the results of his handiwork." Wonder Woman's
voice came clearly through the speakers.
"He's
usually right," Barbara spoke into the small microphone on her headset.
"Okay, receiving feed." A picture of a man lying in a pool of blood
next to a jewelry counter appeared on one of the monitors.
"I'm
always right," Batman said. "As soon as you get the identity of the
man here, cross reference it with the faces Diana's going to scan in the
crowd."
"Starting search now." A name popped up on
her screen. "Wow, that was fast. Batman, Diana,
that guy's name is Roger Brit. Small time thief, but he's got record a mile
long. All petty stuff, nothing of the nature of a high
security jewelry chain. We've got a list of known associates to work
with."
"Good.
Diana should be up there now to get you some faces."
"Almost
there. Patching through live feed." A monitor
showed a stairwell; by the jiggling of the camera, Dick could tell she was
running up the stairs.
"Why
doesn't she fly?" he whispered, and Barbara shrugged.
Diana was on
the roof now, looking over the ledge down at the crowd watching the spectacle
of police cars and ambulances. She swept the camera over the onlookers.
"No
matches yet," Barbara said.
"There
is going to be something," Batman's low growl came through the speakers.
"Keep looking."
Diana walked
the perimeter of the roof, scanning the face of every passerby.
"Still
nothing," Barbara updated them.
Dick spotted
a familiar face and grabbed a headset. "Hold on, Diana, swing back."
"Nightwing?"
"Yeah,
hi, Wonder Woman. The blond guy,
glasses, red backpack standing far back and to the left of the farthest police
car. I know him."
Barbara ran
him through the database. "Not an associate of Brit's. Checking
criminal database. It'll take a minute or two."
"Give me
a visual," Batman said. Barbara sent a digital picture to his handheld
viewer. "That's Donnie Hager. Likes explosives.
Diana, quickly, sweep the roof and surrounding
dumpsters, everything, for a bomb. I'll do the inside here."
"Do you
think he might be trying to cover up a new penchant for murder?" Dick
asked.
"Yes,"
Batman said.
Dick wrote on
a piece of paper, then showed it to Barbara: I HATE IT
WHEN HE'S RIGHT. She grinned.
Dick watched
as the picture on Diana's monitor blurred as she searched for the explosives,
moving more quickly than her recorder could accurately portray. The picture
stilled a moment later, the camera pointing at a large tangle of wires and plastique behind a pile of crates.
"Found
it," Diana announced, and moved in closer. She gently lifted it. "Oh no." The clock read seven, six seconds.
"Batman, mind if I break the 'no flying' rule?"
She was
already in the air when he said, "Break it. Use the harbor."
Dick watched
as her camera picked up a stream of lights as she sped over the city, then
darkness. She must be over the harbor, he thought. Her monitor showed a white
splash from the impact of the bomb hitting the water, then
the screen blanked out.
The sound of
the explosion reached them in Barbara's tower; her windows rattled. Dick looked
at her. "That was huge! The idiot might have been killed by his own
bomb."
"Maybe
not," Batman said. "The bomb was on the other side of the building,
and he was a block further down than that. GCPD just put him in custody. Looks like his pack is full of jewelry. Diana, meet me at
the car." A pause, and silence.
"Diana?"
"Her
monitor went blank at the explosion, Batman," Barbara informed him.
"I thought it might be because of the lack of light over the harbor, but
her equipment might have malfunctioned in the shockwave. She was pretty close
to it."
"Her
radio headset is designed to withstand that." Batman tried again.
"Diana?"
Barbara and
Dick looked at each other. There was an edge to Batman's voice, one they didn't
recognize.
"I'm
here," Diana's voice came through the speakers. "Sorry. Ouch. I had
to turn off the headset for a minute; my ears were ringing."
Dick could
hear the relief in Batman's voice, but was sure no one else, except maybe Barbara,
would notice any difference from his usual growl when Bruce said, "Meet me
at the car."
Barbara's
eyes widened. So she noticed it, too. Dick turned off his microphone and
motioned for her to do the same.
He said when
she muted her headset, "He sounded awfully worried about someone who is
near invulnerable, super-strong and super-fast, didn't he?"
***
Diana lay on
her back, panting, sweating, trying to catch her
breath. He’d done it again. She fought the urge to bounce up and lay waste to
his handsome, smirking face; instead, she gathered her wits and considered her
next move.
The
roundhouse kick followed by the uppercut hadn’t worked; he’d caught her foot
and upended her on her ass. She’d agreed not to use super-speed or strength,
but at this point she was starting to regret that decision. She frowned. Not
that it might have made a difference—she’d seen him defeat many villains and
heroes who outclassed him in strength and speed. No, she had to find another
way.
She glanced
over at Batgirl, who was performing exercises on a dummy while Diana and Batman
sparred. Batgirl cocked an eyebrow at Wonder Woman, executed a series of
maneuvers on the dummy, then nodded slightly in
Batman’s direction. Diana grinned. If that was a hint about how to get Bruce on
his behind for once, she’d try it.
Not that
Bruce was a dummy, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t stand still while she
pounded on him. But, she thought, if I apply the moves right, and give careful
consideration to his probable reaction to each one, and react accordingly, I
can incorporate Batgirl’s suggestion into a new, quicker fighting style.
She flipped
up to a standing position, tweaked her fingers in a "come on"
gesture. The two combatants circled each other for a few moments, then engaged. Diana felt a moment of triumph when Bruce lost
his balance for a split second; she knocked him over with a foot behind his
left knee coupled with a punch to his right shoulder. He couldn’t
counterbalance and went down on his knee.
"Nice,"
he said, then lashed out with his leg. She easily dodged his kick.
"I’m not
falling for that one again."
They fought
for forty more minutes, continually altering their
fighting styles, until Batman slowly gained the upper hand again and took
advantage of a gap in Diana’s defensive tactics. She went down.
She growled.
"What was it this time?" She was heartened to hear his labored
breathing. She wasn’t the only one who was getting a workout.
"After a
series of low kicks, I notice that you lower your arms slightly. That gave me
the ability to find a weak spot, because you overcompensate when I switch from
kicks to punches. It takes a while, though, and I’m not sure how much your
conscious dumbing down of your reflexes affects
it."
Diana wiped
her brow. "I am a warrior born, whether or not I am Wonder Woman. I
shouldn’t be affected by having to deal with mortal constraints. I didn’t
realize until that last two weeks how much I have relied on my powers when I
fight; I have gotten soft."
Bruce rubbed
his ribs. "I wouldn’t say soft." He motioned for Batgirl to join
them, then continued, "You’ve always had an amazing amount of fighting
skill; in the last two weeks you’ve picked up even more new fighting styles. Unpowered, you would still be a formidable opponent to
anyone, including Batgirl and me."
Diana smiled
at the seventeen year old Batgirl, whom she outweighed by at least forty pounds
and topped by six inches. "Maybe not Batgirl," she said, completely
serious.
Batman nodded
in agreement. "Maybe not." He walked to a
shelf where protective body pads were stored, took one down, and threw it to
Diana. "Batgirl learned a new technique called Koga-Ryu
while fighting the Shadow Thief last week. I want her to demonstrate it."
Diana
positioned the pads over her torso and pulled the mitts over her hands.
"Why do I have to be the dummy?"
Batman said,
his focus on Batgirl, "Two reasons: I want to watch how she moves in
relation to the other person, and your ribs are a lot stronger than mine. I've
seen her do this without an opponent; the acceleration and force is astounding.
The pads are actually for her sake; I want her to go all out, and hitting you
can sometimes be like hitting a brick wall. I don't need her injured in
practice."
"Do you
want me to defend myself?"
"Can..try," Batgirl answered,
an impish smile curving her lips.
Diana
blinked, then Batgirl's hand slammed into her chest.
It didn't hurt, but she was surprised by the force. She swayed backward,
absorbing some of the impact so Batgirl's hand wouldn't break. Batman was
right: at that kind of force and speed, Batgirl needed the protection more than
Diana did. Fighting certainly was easier, she thought, when gifted with the
strength of Gaea, which included Earth's ability to
withstand blunt impacts. She glanced at Batman, whose attention was on
Batgirl's swift execution of punches and kicks. He'd been fighting crime for
years, Diana knew; she wondered how he managed to still walk, let alone fight
and capture criminals without his body breaking down on him.
Diana ducked
under a fist that had been aimed at her face. He'd been stabbed and shot
several times, had numerous broken bones, had even had his back broken, and
been paralyzed, yet was still as dedicated -- perhaps more dedicated -- than
the day that he'd first started, than the day his parents had been murdered.
She'd seen him on patrols: he gave every bit of his attention to the city,
missed nothing, and, if he could, allowed no injustice to harm anyone in
No, not
grudgingly, she thought now, and dodged a kick. She returned with a kick of her
own and missed. Batman would probably help out the Justice League more often;
he was simply that type of man. But, he was only a man, just the same as Superman
or the way that she was only a woman. Even Batman couldn't stretch himself too
thin, and his seeming unwillingness at times was, she thought, probably just
weariness. Not to mention a matter of priority.
***
The city was
quiet. To Batman, it seemed as if
Waiting for the Joker.
He tried to
think of an angle he had missed, a clue he'd ignored, and couldn't. The data
wasn't coalescing into a pattern like it usually did; instead, he only saw
random acts: an escape and the murder of the last man who had visited the Joker.
The man who had told him he was dying, that he had three, maybe four weeks to
live.
But the Joker
wasn't dead yet -- Batman was sure of that. He trusted his intuition, and it
was telling him that the Joker would take as many people with him as he could
before he died. The last joke. So Batman waited for
something big, something awful. And he had no idea what it would be, but he did
know it would be soon. The Joker was running out of time.
Diana waited
beside him, eyes and ears attuned to the night. He debated sending her home;
nothing was happening tonight, she didn't need to be there. He had tried to
rationalize her continuing presence in Gotham -- her
superhuman abilities made it safer for the rest of the Bat family to operate
since she could handle the metas, the spell was
affecting him, he was keeping an eye on her while she battled whatever inner
demons she faced, her skill as a warrior was an invaluable training tool for
Batgirl -- but he had forced himself to face the simple truth: he liked her
presence.
And he didn't
like that he did.
She was a
distraction. On patrols, he found himself wondering what she was thinking.
During practice, he appreciated more than just the way she moved, he found
himself appreciating the way she looked. In the cave, he looked forward to her
easy laugh, her quick smile, her wit; in the last two weeks, it had seemed
colder and darker in there when she wasn't around.
It would have
been easier if she didn't fit in as well as she did, if she didn't work
seamlessly with his allies; if that was the case, he could blame the
distraction on her inability to mesh with the Bat clan. But that wasn't the
case. She wore the Bat uniform easily, in more ways than one.
Bruce could
remember a time when Superman had worn his costume to cover for him when he'd
been missing -- Clark had been uncomfortable with the darkness of Gotham and the Bat uniform, and seemingly couldn't wait to
remove it. Batman's crew had felt it--despite their awe and respect of
Superman, they had kept him at a slight distance. Diana, on the other hand,
embraced what the Bat stood for and his methods much more readily than he would
have thought, and the Bat clan, for the most part, had accepted her new role in
their lives. They questioned and wondered about her, yes -- but they didn't
have that same distance as they did with
Donna would
be back soon, they would find out what had happened between them in the
kitchen, and the strange bond that had kept them together, that had fueled his
need to see her, would be broken. By unspoken agreement, he and Diana hadn't
talked about what they had done since that first night in his cave, but he knew
that she thought about it. She had never been good at hiding her thoughts and
emotions; he had caught her, more than once, looking his way with a mixture of
hunger and uncertainty in her eyes.
God knew that
he thought about it, too. And it was yet another distraction -- sexual
frustration.
He'd felt it
before, of course, and he'd had years of practice repressing it, manipulating
the sexual energy into another form: he would work harder, fight harder, and,
when the frustration became overwhelming, a quick masturbatory session in the
shower eased the pressure. But with Diana, it wasn't easing, self-gratification
wasn't working, and he was having difficulty channeling it into something else,
which he should be doing: the Joker was loose, after all.
A rasping
noise made him turn in Diana's direction. She had picked up some debris from
the roof of the building; it was abandoned, having been severely damaged in the
earthquake, and was a popular hangout for gang members and drug dealers who
preyed on the homeless. She crumbled the concrete in her fingers and let it
drift back to the rooftop.
"Is it
hard?" Her tone was wondering, and she was looking pensively out over the
city.
You have no
idea, he thought, but waited until she clarified herself to answer.
Her eyes
finally focused, and her gaze met his. "Rebuilding the
city. You care so much for it, then to see it practically destroyed,
become a lawless place, then rebuilding -- does it
feel futile?"
Ah, he
realized, she was thinking about Themyscira. After
they had fought Maxie Zeus and the gods Phobos, Eris and Deimos in
He thought
carefully before answering. "Not futile. What happened to
"It
didn't make people more selfish? Or create a "get-what-you-can"
philosophy so that survival was possible?"
"Of
course it did. But that was then, when there was nothing. People fought for
food, clothing for their loved ones; it was understandable. I would have done
the same. Now, people have what they need," he pointed out, "and it makes them appreciate what they do have all the more -- and
not just the material things. Relationships, too. Once
you've lived through something like that, you realize how lucky you are."
A smile
curved Diana's lips. "Does that include you?"
"Yes."
He had lost some friends, some allies. It gave him more of a reason to keep
fighting. "And it makes the city even more important to me than ever
now."
"And you
are more important to the people of the city now."
"Perhaps,
but it also made them more self-reliant."
"I've
seen that." She didn't say what she had seen, and Batman didn't ask. He
sensed it was something that she was still wrestling with. She said,
"Bruce Wayne is more important, too."
Batman
nodded. "His money is useful; he can help people on a larger scale when it
comes to support and programs to get people back on their feet." He was
careful to refer to Bruce Wayne in the third person on the off chance that
someone was listening. It had become a habit when he was in the Batman uniform;
he barely noticed himself doing it. "But, his image was not exactly helpful
when he fought for
Diana gave
him a sympathetic smile. "I know; I heard the whispers around
"Well,
you reap what you sow, or so I hear.
"I guess
so," Diana said, then grinned. "I know a bit about being judged by my
appearance."
"You
probably would have had more luck in
Diana shook
her head. "I actually had a private audience with the President about the
situation in
Batman was
surprised. "You did?"
"Mmm hmm." She sighed
dramatically, and joked, "I made the usual offer of sex, but he turned me
down."
Batman's
laugh rolled out over the rooftops. He decided to play along. "Luthor turned you down?"
"Yep. It seems that Lex isn't
interested in me; what he really wants is Superman and his super-loving."
"Super-loving? Is that what it is?" Bruce kept his
voice light, determined not to betray his annoying interest in her answer.
Diana tilted
her head as if considering. "I suppose you would know as well as I
would." Batman choked; she smiled and continued. "I mean, you were
there."
"In
Diana
shrugged. "Neither did I, not really. It all
happened so quickly, anyway." Bruce suppressed a comment about men with
super-speed and their sexual performance. Diana added, "And I haven't
exactly…I mean, except with you…" Batman was glad she didn't finish the
sentence; she was heading into dangerous territory. He guessed she thought so,
too, when she changed the subject. "Anyway, I did talk to Lex, but nothing came of it. He smiled and said 'of course
you're right, Diana,' then promptly forgot about it, I think. Two weeks later
and they closed off
And
Diana
frowned, picking up another handful of rubble, crushing it between her fingers.
"That lowly dog. I had gone to him in the hopes
that he would support me in my peace effort between three war zones. Instead he
undermined me so that my speech at the UN General Assembly might as well have
been delivered on deaf ears." She threw the concrete dust out into the
air; it drifted slowly down into the empty street. "It is so frustrating
-- I am an ambassador of peace from a country that just went through a civil
war. I try to convince the world that the way of the amazons leads to peace,
but instead of listening to what I'm saying, they focus on what happened."
She turned toward Batman, her eyes haunted. "I know that some people think
that my way of doing things is a contradiction: I am a warrior who espouses the
merits of peace. I talk about the need for love and understanding, and yet I
fight. But it is worth fighting for; it's worth dying for." She sighed,
closed her eyes. "But, anyway, what were you doing reading that article?
It was in the gossip section."
Bruce wished
she wouldn't retreat behind friendly banter; he felt he was finally beginning
to see the cause of her recent turmoil more clearly: it wasn't just the wars, it was their effect on her mission. But he also knew
there was more; she would eventually reveal it, and then he would ascertain
whether she was truly balancing on some sort of emotional precipice, or whether
her current mental state was just a natural grieving process for her mother,
her island and herself.
He knew a lot
about grieving, and even more about contradictory missions. He stood for
justice by breaking the law. He had realized long ago, however, that sometimes
seemingly opposite terms and ideas actually went hand in hand. Making peace and
making war. Fighting for justice and defying laws. In many ways, there was no
contradiction, just a lack of understanding by the public.
Or, he
thought ruefully, a delusion on the part of the person with the mission.
"I
usually check the society pages for mention of
He was saved
from whatever comment Diana was probably going to make about
Thoughts of
articles and egos disappeared as he focused on this new information. "Where?"
"Farletti's Music Store.
"We're
on our way."
He glanced at
Diana, who had heard the short conversation. Equal parts relief and horror
showed in her eyes.
It looked as
though the wait was over.
***
The neatness
of the music shop disguised the violence of the death the owner must have
experienced. Diana thought that it would have been more appropriate, and more
respectful, if the shop had been torn apart as haphazardly as John Farletti's mind must have been. Looking at the pristine
store, a person would never realize the absolute horror of dying with a smile
on your face. Something, she thought, should stand for this man, should show
how awful his death must have been. She wanted to smash something in sympathy,
in honor.
"The
office is in as good of a condition as the store. It was quick; he didn't have
time to react." Batman was examining the body behind the desk in the small
office at the back of the store. He was with Jim Gordon; the rest of the
officers had been moved from the site while Batman and she were there. Diana
decided to stop listening from afar and joined them in the office. Neither man
looked up from their perusal.
"The
rope burns on his wrists indicate he was bound for a time when he could resist
slightly. They aren't severe though, so either he was drugged shortly
thereafter, or the Joker made him a promise that let him relax. Probably got information from him."
"What
kind of info?" the police commissioner asked.
"I don't
know." Batman nodded toward the digital camera Diana was carrying.
"Did you get pictures of the entire store?"
"Yes."
She noted that Gordon was trying very hard not to stare or ask about her
presence. She had met him before as Wonder Woman; he was a smart man--he had
probably already figured out her identity, and was just trying to figure out
why she was patrolling with Batman, who was notorious for working alone. If he
managed to find an answer, she hoped he would let her in on the secret. She had
been shocked when Bruce hadn't asked her to remain out of Gordon's sight, and
instead had given her the duty of recording the scene.
"With
the pictures and the inventory lists, we can identify what was taken, if
anything." Batman frowned. "There's nothing here to indicate that the
Joker acted with his standard operating procedure: no gag items left around,
nothing disturbed or broken, and nothing left behind for us to find." He
stroked his chin, lost in thought. "He likes keeping us on our toes and
being one step ahead of us while frustrating us with his little jokes and
games. But I don't see the joke here. If it weren't for the Joker venom, I
wouldn't even consider this one of his jobs."
"Any
hint of the method of delivery for the venom?"
Batman patted
a plastic bag with several Q-tips in it. "I've swabbed his mouth and nose,
and checked for needle punctures in the obvious places: his hands, arms and
neck, but didn't find any. The medical examiner will do a more thorough check,
though, and might find something I've missed. In the meantime, I'll analyze the
swabs, and try to determine if the venom's composition has been changed, and
get to work on a counteragent, in case he tries to strike again." Diana
noticed that he didn't mention the slim chance of finding a victim and
administering the antidote while there was still a chance for the victim to recover.
Some things were better left unsaid.
Oracle's
voice sounded in her ear. "Batman, Diana -- there's been report of another
Joker hit at Ellie's Bakery and Eatery, Eighth and Mason. The daughter just
called 911. Her mother didn't come home, and there was no answer at the bakery.
The daughter found her; she's still there."
"Copy
that." Batman gathered up his tools and evidence from the desk.
"Eighth and Mason, Ellie's Bakery," he said to Gordon. "The Joker again."
Gordon's fist
slammed into the wall. Diana approved; she felt the same way. "We are
going to get that son of a bitch, Batman."
Diana turned
and left, heading for the Batmobile. Behind her, she
heard Batman say, "We'll meet you there. Have your men keep the area
secure until we arrive."
She heard Gordon
sigh. "Of course. If they get there before you
do. How you find out this stuff before I do, I'll never know, and -- of course,
you've already left, and I'm talking to myself again."
Batman caught
up with her, unlocked the Batmobile. "I want you
to handle the daughter when we get there. Ask questions, especially about her
mother's schedule and services of the bakery. Ask her to look around for
something unusual." He started the car. "Be sympathetic, but firm.
Use your own voice, not mine. We don't want to scare her."
"Of course."
Diana studied
Batman's face while they drove; at least, the part that was visible. She could
see the tension around his mouth, pulling his lips thin; his jaw was clenched.
It had been the same with every person they had found beaten or murdered, she
realized. He didn't vent his anger, but it showed in small ways. He drove
differently, with both hands on the steering wheel, instead of in his usual,
casual manner. She imagined that under his gloves, his knuckles were white with
strain from gripping the wheel so tightly. And she thought she finally
understood him, at least a little--she had wanted something to stand for Farletti, and his death. And something did.
Batman did.
He took each
death, each victim personally. He felt it, took it into himself, made it a part of himself. So different, she thought, from
most homicide detectives or police officers she knew who had to keep their
distance from the victims in order to keep from burning out.
But what kept
him from burning out? From exploding with anger and
frustration and pain? Or, she thought, was it the anger, frustration and
pain that kept him going?
They arrived
at the same time as a GCPD squad car. Batman glanced at it, told Diana that
Gordon would clear them to enter once the police had secured the site.
"Some things," he said, "have to be done by the book." He
shook his head. "Not that the Joker will ever get to a courtroom or worry
about proper police procedure. We'll go in after a minute or so."
"You
wait because of Gordon. Because you respect him, not because
of any book."
He bent his
head in acknowledgment. "Perhaps. Gordon is a
good man. His belief in the system is unshakable, but he's not blind to its
faults, either."
"Are you
a friend to him, or a necessary evil?"
Batman smiled
humorlessly. "Both."
"Much
like the JLA is to you." It wasn't a question.
He met her
steady gaze. "Yes. Although, in both cases, 'evil' is not the right
term."
"What is
the right term?"
Smiling as
though he had thought of a joke he'd once heard, he replied, "A
distraction," and opened the door.
Muttering
about facetiousness, Diana followed him.
The bakery
was in the same state as the music shop: clean, sparkling and homey, as if
murder hadn't been committed there in the last couple of hours. Batman went
directly to examine the deceased; Diana waited in a corner, observing the girl
as she made her statement to a uniformed officer.
A woman
really, Diana thought. The daughter was probably in her late teens or early
twenties, and wore, Diana was surprised to note, a shirt with a Wonder Woman
symbol emblazoned across the front.
"Like I
said, she didn't call or come home, so I got worried, you know? It's not like
Mom to work this late. Oh, she'll stay up late if she has a special order, or
if she is catering something, but there wasn't anything on her calendar, and
anyway, she didn't answer the phone." Her voice was steady, but her face
was pale and drawn, and she sat hunched in the chair as if expecting a blow.
"I have an extra key, because Mom makes me work here some nights and lock
up after her. Those are the nights she goes on dates, or out with her
friends." She eyed the officer, suddenly defensive. "But she had a
hard life, you know? Raising me? She wasn't any kind of party animal or
anything, she just liked to go out and have fun, and she knew I was old enough
to handle myself in here. She wasn't bad for going out, or anything."
"Of
course not," the officer said soothingly. "Do you know any of the men
your mom may have dated lately?"
"Yeah,
but you don't need to question them. I saw her." The defensive attitude
drained from her posture, and she looked small, and very young. "I've seen
news reports before, the pictures. That was the Joker." Her breath hitched
on a sob. She pushed her fists into her eyes as if to hold back tears. "The Joker. God."
Diana strode
forward, placed her hand on the officer's shoulder. "Do you need any more
questions from her for a little while?"
The officer
looked relieved. The grief of victim's families was heart-wrenching. "She
can make the rest of her statement down at the station later." He stared
curiously at her; Diana ignored him, her attention focused on the girl. She
glanced at his clipboard; the girl's name was Danielle Nichols.
"Danielle?"
She looked
up, and her eyes widened. In amazement, Diana was happy to see, not fear. Her
lip trembled. "Are you here to get the Joker?"
Diana didn't
have any doubt that Batman would catch him, and didn't think that she was
giving the girl false hope when she said, "Yes."
"Good."
Diana was happy to see a spark of life enter the girl's eyes. "I hope you
beat him within an inch of his life, or further."
"Would
you like to come with me? I have a few questions." She held out her hand;
Danielle took it, giving her a few suggestions about what to do with the Joker.
Diana led her out of the entrance; she didn't think that Danielle needed to see
the eventual removal of her mother's body. But, she thought, we need to keep
out of sight as much as possible; the news crews will get wind of this soon.
Diana looked up, then told Danielle, "I need you
to trust me. Don't scream."
Danielle
nodded, and Diana swept her up and shot a grappling hook up to the roof. She
let it lift them both, speeding the process by half-flying. She was beginning
to have a penchant for roofs, she realized. She set Danielle down easily.
"Wow, I
need to get me one of those. Then I can sneak in the house at night without Mom
knowing. . ." She trailed off, her face registering horror and acceptance.
She sat down, hard, as if her legs wouldn't hold her anymore. "No,"
she whispered.
Diana kneeled
beside her and put her arms around her, Bat costume be damned. Danielle held on
to Diana tightly, and said it more loudly, "No. No." Diana felt the
sobs the girl was repressing shudder through Danielle's frame. Danielle pulled
away, screamed, "No!" and hit Diana's ribs and face. Diana let her.
"Where were you! Where were you, damn you!"
Diana pulled
her back into her arms, hugging her tightly, Danielle
struggled, then collapsed against her, sobbing. She held her that way, until,
slowly, Danielle's crying eased. Eventually, she sat up, wiping away her tears,
and got to her feet. "Sorry."
"You
have nothing for which to be sorry."
"I guess
so." Danielle hiccuped, and walked to the edge
of the roof to look out over the street. Diana stood beside her. The squad cars
were still there, along with several unmarked cars and the Batmobile.
The ambulance was gone, Diana noted. She wondered if it had left because it
took away the body, or because there was no one living to take away, to save.
"I
thought you were a man."
"I
am," Diana said, then corrected herself. "I
mean, Batman is a man."
Danielle eyed
her appraisingly. "So, you're his sidekick?"
The idea
amused Diana. "Something like that. More of an associate."
Danielle
nodded, as if she understood. "Will he get him?"
"Yes."
Danielle took
a deep breath. "Ok. You wanted to ask me questions, right?"
"If you feel up to it."
"If it
helps catch that scum, then, yeah, I'm up to it."
Diana sat on
the low wall along the edge of the roof, and patted the space beside her.
"Tell me about your mother, Danielle. Were you named after her?"
Danielle sat.
A wistful smile touched her mouth. "Yeah. My dad
was Dan, my mom was Ellie. Eleanor. He died in a car wreck while my mom was
still pregnant; she said she named me Danielle because I was proof that both of
them would be together forever somehow."
"How lovely." But sad, Diana thought.
Danielle
shrugged. "Yeah. Anyway, my mom was a great lady.
She put herself through culinary school while I was a kid, then we moved to
"What
were some of her interests besides the shop?"
"Are you
trying to find a link to the Joker?" She continued when Diana nodded,
"Like I told the other guy, she went out, but well, with low key guys, you
know? No criminals. Usually just friends of friends."
"What
about hobbies?"
Danielle
shook her head. "Nah. She didn't really have
time. She would curl up with a book if she got the chance, but she didn't often
get the chance." She rubbed her arms, even though the night was balmy.
"She won't get the chance now."
"No, but
you will."
Danielle
tilted her head, considering. "Another way of living
through me? Like my name?"
"Yes."
"I guess
you're right."
"I hope
so," Diana said, a little more emphatically than she'd intended. At
Danielle's questioning stare, she said, "I lost my mother not long ago,
too."
"Oh.
Does it get any easier?"
"Not
yet."
Danielle
nodded; she looked much older than when Diana had first seen her. "I guess
not. At least she knows that I love her and am proud of her. It at least makes
you feel a little better, right?"
She
hesitated. "Right," Diana lied. Her last words to her mother echoed
in her ears. You're not Wonder Woman.
And when I
said that, she thought, neither was I.
"Let's
go down and see if you can tell if anything is missing," she said.
She didn't bother
with the grappling hook on the way down; she simply floated them down along the
side of the building. Danielle looked at her again, more closely this time. "An associate, huh?" She looked at the emblem on
her shirt.
"I'd
appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself."
"Of
course," Danielle said. "Will I see you again?"
"I love
blueberry muffins and brownies. It won't be often, but I'll stop by to see how
you are doing."
Diana was
heartened by Danielle's grin, even though it faded when they entered the bakery
and was replaced by a look of concentration. "Mom always baked some stuff
the night before, if it didn't matter that they were super-fresh. Cakes, pies,
cookies, dessert bars, and stuff like that. She made the breakfast muffins and
bagels in the morning, since it goes stale faster. I found her over
there." She pointed to a display case filled with desserts. Diana followed
her into the kitchen, where Batman and Jim Gordon were talking. Danielle
ignored them, and looked through the freezers, cupboards and drawers.
"Nothing seems to be missing in here."
"She had
been baking when it happened." Danielle jumped a little when Batman spoke.
Danielle
looked at the clean prep table and counters, then at him. "How can you be
sure?" She held up her hand. "Never mind. I
don't want to know."
They followed
her out to the display case. "Cakes, two pies,
cookies." Danielle frowned. "There aren't any bars. I saw a
package for fyllo dough in the trash in the
kitchen. That means baklava. There wasn't any in the fridge, and there's none
here."
Gordon drew
his eyebrows together in confusion. "Baklava?
Why?"
***
"Music and food. Desserts. Maybe it
has something to do with a party, or he plans to poison the baklava and serve
it somewhere?" Diana was pacing a path in the floor behind his chair.
"Are there any big events taking place in
Batman had
already thought of that, so his answer was confident and quick. "The Wayne Foundation charity auction in two nights.
After that, there's nothing for almost three weeks. The computer finished
analyzing the poison and spit out a sheet listing its makeup.
Diana snapped
her fingers. "Right. The
auction." She blinked. "I'd forgotten about the auction. I
need to get the branch." Batman nodded absently. It had been well
advertised that Wonder Woman would be donating a golden olive branch from the
Tree of Athena that grew on Themyscira and would be
delivering a speech promoting the Foundation's new program to help families
devastated by the earthquake and No Man's Land. "Do you think that's where
he'll show up?"
Batman
hesitated for an instant; he hated giving an opinion unless he was sure of the
answer. Under normal circumstances, he would say 'yes' with almost no reserve;
however, the Joker wasn't acting normally. At least, Batman thought, what could
be considered normal for the Joker. "I think he will be. If nothing else, because the Batman will be watching for him.
The Joker will want one last chance at me." He didn't consider the
statement arrogant; he was well aware that the Joker took their animosity as
seriously as he did.
Diana stopped
pacing. "But you won't be there, will you? Bruce Wayne will be."
"Unfortunately." He tapped the piece of paper on his
desk. "This has two different venoms: his paralyzing venom and his Joker
venom. He probably used the first to immobilize Farletti
and Nichols, then restrained them with the rope. After
which he either waited for it to wear off, or he administered a
counteragent." He thought about that. "He probably administered a
counteragent by needle. He wouldn't want to wait long enough for the paralyzation to wear off. Then he got whatever information
from them that he needed, took the baklava and whatever it was that he wanted
from Farletti's, and administered the Joker venom by
unknown methods."
"Why
clean Ellie's kitchen?"
"I don't
know." That didn't concern him as much as finding the link between Farletti and Nichols, and the goods that they sold. He gave
the computer an instruction to look for corresponding vendors, suppliers, or
accounts, then turned to look at Diana.
She was at
the edge of the cave floor, looking down into the abyss, her features pensive.
"You know more about the Joker than anyone, Bruce." She glanced back
at him. "Why in the world is he like he is?"
Batman stood,
joined her at the cliff. The darkness does stare back up at you, he thought.
"There's a simple answer and a complex one."
Diana tilted
her head, regarded him seriously. "What's the complex one?"
He knew he
should get back to work, but, he thought, a break might give him a chance to
get a fresh view and a new perspective. He gathered his thoughts for a few
moments before he answered. "Have you read anything by Nathaniel
Hawthorne?" Diana made a face, but nodded. "He spent his life, his
entire life, trying to uncover the secrets of what lies in a man's heart. He
rejected the Puritan idea that everything is black and white, good or evil, and
instead wrote that there are shades of gray, and that every person has the
capability to do evil." He stooped, threw a piece of rock down into the
abyss. He waited, but he didn't hear the noise of it hitting bottom. He never
did. "Everyone. You, me, Superman, the little old
lady down the street."
"What a
depressing way of looking at things." Diana sighed. "Of course, that
also means everyone has the capacity for good," she pointed out.
"Yes,
but that's not what concerns me." Batman knew that sounded harsh, but he
dealt with one side of people; Wonder Woman could deal with the other side.
"In any case, somewhere along the way the Joker has lost his capacity for
doing good. There are no light places in him anymore.
"What
was the simple answer?"
Batman turned
and walked back to his computer. "He's insane and beyond help."
"Aren't
we all?" Diana mused lightly.
"Probably." But not everyone went around killing people
as a joke in music shops, bakeries and other public locales. Like charity
auctions. "The night of the auction I'll need you to handle anything that
comes up. You'll be backed up by Oracle, Nightwing,
Robin, and Batgirl. They'll be out of the building, though, except for Batgirl.
I won't authorize them to engage the Joker directly. I can run some
interference, but I have to be Bruce Wayne. You are openly Wonder Woman, so
they'll be no conflict there." Not having a secret identity could be, at
times, helpful. "I'll spend tomorrow working on an antidote to the Joker
venom; it'll be easy to mix up, it is just a slight variation from his other
formulas. I'll give you a vial to inject yourself with should anything happen.
Do it immediately upon exposure."
"What
about the rest of the guests?"
"I'll
work out a contingency plan with Gordon." Probably a gas
that could be deployed over a large area quickly. "Bruce Wayne has
to be in
Alfred's face
appeared on one of the monitors. Behind him Bruce could see the galley style
kitchen. Probably preparing him a late supper, Bruce thought,
and felt a twinge of guilt for keeping the older man up so long.
"You'll find it in the changing room, Master Bruce."
"Go to
bed, Alfred."
"Very well, Master Bruce." Batman knew that
Alfred probably wouldn't retire for the night for a couple more hours.
"I don't
need a different costume, Bruce," Diana said when he closed the intercom.
"Yes,"
he said, "you do. Mine is too big for you; there're too many accidents
that could happen if the loose material catches on something, or it restricts
your movement. If you're going to be in
Diana
narrowed her eyes. "How much longer will I be working with you in
Bruce
swiveled his chair so that he faced the computer again. Her practice and
patrols in
He was
expecting her reaction, and had his arms braced against the chair when she
whipped it around. But she was, he realized, less angry than he'd assumed she
would be.
She braced
her hands on the armrests, leaning over him, bringing her face close to his.
She lifted an eyebrow. "Say 'please, Princess'." A smile curved her
mouth, and he was suddenly aroused. He struggled to keep his face blank, his
gaze steady. She straightened up, stepped back. She ran her hand through her
hair, exasperated; the movement lifted her breasts. He turned back to his desk,
this time to disguise his reaction to her. Behind him, he heard her chuckle.
"It's a good thing you are a friend, Batman, because at times you can be a
real ass." A few seconds later, he heard the dressing room door slam, and
released a deep breath.
Well, he thought, that had backfired. Although he didn't exactly know
why he'd wanted to goad her in the first place, except to divert her attention
from her question about how long she'd be in
But then
again, a shrink would have a lot of things to say about him.
Diana emerged
from the dressing room, cowl and cape in hand; his stomach clenched. Not
because the uniform fit her body perfectly, which it did, and not because she
looked beautiful, although she was, but because Alfred had made a change to the
utility belt. Batman had redesigned the bat on the uniform, expanding the wings
so that the general outline of the emblem was very similar to Diana's Wonder
Woman emblem; he had done it as a favor to her, since he knew that the WW
symbol came from her namesake, Diana Trevor, but he'd also been careful that
the costume was dark enough so that the black bat would have to be scrutinized
extremely closely for anyone to see the resemblance. Indeed, they would have to
be looking for the resemblance to notice it.
Alfred had
taken Batman's gesture one step further; he had restyled the belt so that it
was shaped like the WW belt that Hippolyta had worn.
Not a huge change--the suggestion of a 'W'--but enough of one that someone
would notice if they were looking, and they wouldn't have to look very hard.
The yellow of the belt was in high contrast to the dark gray of the costume.
Diana was
obviously delighted with the belt design. She looked happier than she had in
weeks.
And he was
going to have to tell her she couldn't wear it.
***
She could
dance on air, but she hadn't felt like doing it in a long time. She had once
sworn that she would always fight under Diana Trevor's emblem; she hadn't
realized until now how torn she had been wearing the Bat costume without her
insignia; it had been an enormous relief to see her symbols when she had looked
into the mirror. They weren't exactly right, no--but the intention was there.
And, she thought, the mixing of symbols reflected very well how Bruce had
influenced her: her mission, her ability as a warrior, and as a crimefighter.
She
acknowledged the brief niggling of doubt she felt upon seeing the emblems, the
one that said: Batman's way is not Wonder Woman's way. Then she pushed it
aside. Every peacemaker, she reminded herself, knows the value of compromise. And
she'd seen with her own eyes that Batman's way worked. If she used a little bit
of his way as Wonder Woman, she thought, wouldn't that make her more
successful?
And, it was
her mother's belt. Well, as close as he had probably been willing to make it.
Batman had
done this for her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him for it.
But, she noted, he didn't look very pleased with her.
He had
removed his cowl and cape; she could read his face more easily when he did. He
wore his normal expression: stoic, unamused. She knew
that he was quicker to smile than most people realized, and the rumors about
his never laughing were patently untrue. It was part of being Batman; a lot of
it was in the attitude, the quietness, the
humorlessness. What criminal would be afraid of a laughing Bat? No, she
thought, in
She
recognized an edge behind his expression, but what it was, she didn't know. She
studied his mouth, his eyes, looking for clues; finding none, she waited. He
would tell her what it was soon enough.
"It
looks fine, except for the belt."
A small ball
of dread settled in her stomach. "What's wrong with the belt?"
It was so
much like her mother's belt.
"It's
too much like Wonder Woman's belt. You know why I can't let them know you are
Wonder Woman."
"Gordon
knows I'm Wonder Woman," she pointed out, fighting a wave of panic at the
thought of taking it off.
It was her
mother's belt.
"Gordon
will keep it to himself. You can't be Wonder Woman here." His voice was
gentler than she expected, and that somehow made it worse.
"Why
give me the belt and then decide it won't work?" she asked, her eyes
pleading with him.
Her mother's belt.
He didn't
answer her question, but repeated, "You can't be Wonder Woman here."
"I am
Wonder Woman, Batman." I am, she said to herself. I am.
He sighed.
"You're not Wonder Woman," he said, "not all of the time. You
are also Diana. In
You're not
Wonder Woman.
A red haze
swam before her eyes. She tried to push it back. "Like you are not just
Batman, but Bruce Wayne? Bullshit," she spat out. He didn't blink at her
sudden vehemence or use of the expletive. He didn't react at all. Damn him.
"I am
both."
She advanced
on him. "Bruce Wayne is just a function of Batman. Dick is a function of
Batman. Everything you do is a function of Batman." Her anger built.
Standing toe to toe with him, she said, "Cold, calculating Batman. Don't
let anyone in, don't care about anyone." She knew it wasn't true; she had
seen how he cared for his family, his city. But she couldn't stop. She pushed
against his chest.
He didn't
budge. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Diana, don't. I'm sorry. I know
this is about Hippolyta, but don't --" The anger
swelled, overwhelmed. She grabbed his costume, lifted him, slammed
his back against the cave wall. She put her face close to his.
"Don't
mention my mother," she whispered dangerously. She dropped him, stepped
back. Her breath hitched. What was she doing? Yet she still didn't stop.
"You don't have a monopoly on grieving for your parents, Batman," she
said.
The change
came over him so quickly and he moved so rapidly that she barely had time to
register it before he reversed their positions, holding her up against the
wall, pressing himself against her. He was furious, she realized.
"Careful, Princess." His voice was soft.
She wished that he would rage, would match his anger
against her own. His eyes stared down into hers, the
shadows making his irises look like
"I feel,
Diana," he breathed into her ear, and pushed his hips into hers, pressing
his erection against her belly. His mouth trailed fire down the line of her
jaw. She tilted her head back, parting her lips. He brought his mouth close to
hers; their breath mingled. "I'd like nothing more than to take you up to
Bruce Wayne's bed and fuck you until you scream my name out loud--" Her
eyes widened, in surprise and arousal, "--and to lose myself in you. But I
can't." He let go of her, stepped back, leaving her filled with
frustration instead of anger.
"Why?"
He smiled
grimly. "
Diana stared
at him, amazed that he had opened up to her like that. And every sense told her
that he was telling the truth, that he believed absolutely in what he was
saying. She knew he was better than that, though. Stronger.
"It
doesn't have to be that way. It might not happen like that," she argued.
He rubbed the
bridge of his nose as if fighting a headache. Or an inner
battle. "I never am going to take that chance and find out."
Diana bit her
lip as two more truths hit her with the force of a locomotive. Her own truths.
She was in
love with the Batman.
And he would
never, ever allow himself to love her back.
***
Automatically,
It was true;
Diana was soaked, her hair plastered to her head and hanging limply down her
back, her casual pants and shirt were water-stained and wrinkled, yet she still
exuded the grace and glowing beauty of a born princess.
"It was
raining over
"Thank
you." She started wiping off her arms.
Diana hadn't
yet said why she was there, and
"Why
don't we go into the kitchen?" he suggested. Perhaps a casual breakfast
setting would help Diana say whatever it was had brought her there.
He and Lois
trailed after Diana into the kitchen. Behind Wonder Woman's back, Lois lifted
an eyebrow.
I'm not
sure, he
said with another shrug.
Lois pursed
her lips, which meant, Does it have anything
to do with you and me?
Diana seated
herself at the kitchen table, Lois joined her after pouring them all cups of
coffee, and
Lois didn't
mince words, as usual. "So what brings you to our neck of the woods,
Diana?" she asked, then took a sip from her mug.
"I'm in
love with Batman," Diana said quietly.
"Thanks,"
Lois croaked when she could speak again, then coughed.
"I suppose this conversation is going to be off the record?"
"Lois,"
Lois sighed.
"All of the good ones are off the record."
"Sorry, Lois." Diana smiled at her, but her eyes were
serious again. She spread her hands in an entreating gesture. "I came here
because I need advice. From you, Clark, because you know
Batman as well as any of us, and from you, Lois, because you're a woman."
"Next to
you, I'm not," Lois muttered good-naturedly.
"And,"
Diana continued, "you are a woman in a
relationship with someone whose secret identity must stay hidden."
That would
explain it, he thought. Batman and Diana. He couldn't
make the image work. He had accepted that they had sex in the kitchen due to
some outside influence, but love?
"What
happened two weeks ago?" Lois said.
"Batman
and I had sex," Diana said bluntly.
"Oh,"
Lois said.
Diana
continued, "But what happened then is and isn't the reason why I am here
now. It is because it started everything, but it isn't because what I'm feeling
has everything to do with what has happened since that day." She took a
drink of her coffee, seemed to be gathering her thoughts. "We've
ascertained that what happened in the kitchen was the result of a spell."
Lois sat up straighter in her chair. This must be killing her,
"In the
meantime, I've gotten to know him better. I've always respected his work, but .
. ." She sighed. "Anyway, I just realized what I was feeling an hour
ago."
"And you
came straight here," Lois said dryly.
"Of
course," Diana replied, seemingly surprised that Lois would think that she
might do anything else.
"What
happened to Trevor Barnes?" Lois asked. She had told
"He
turned me down, twice."
Lois nodded
sympathetically. "I know what you mean, then. You can't keep going after a
guy who doesn't want you."
Diana winced.
"That wasn't the reason why I stopped asking. I asked him once after the
war, but he said no again. I was going to ask him again, but
then...Batman." She looked at
"Two men in the world who don't want you--" Lois looked
at
Diana
laughed. "Lois, you are too funny."
She didn't
know how serious Lois was,
Diana shook
her head. "No." She frowned. "Should I have told him?"
"No!"
Lois and Clark exclaimed in unison. They glanced at each other. For the first
time since Diana made her announcement, disbelief and surprise was replaced by
worry in their eyes.
As much as
Diana knew about love -- sisterly and brotherly love -- and despite her natural
sexuality and sensuality,
About the Batman, of all people.
He was torn
between wanting to give her encouragement and hope, and telling her bluntly
that it would never work. He was her best friend, he thought. What should he
tell her?
He sat at the
table. "Diana, are you sure what you are feeling is real? Not an effect of
the spell?"
Diana nodded.
"Yes."
"You
tried your lasso and everything?" Lois asked.
A crease
appeared between Diana's eyebrows when she frowned. "No." She looked
at them wonderingly, as if surprised she hadn't thought of that herself.
"That's usually the first thing that I would have done, but this
time...well, I just knew."
"Then
there is a chance it isn't real, then." The thought relieved
"No."
Diana's voice was certain. "But I will make sure, since there is a
question."
"Good."
"Good?"
Lois repeated. She turned to
His gaze met
Diana's. Her best friend, he reminded himself. And the most
important woman in my life, except for Lois and Ma. One
of my best friends.
And best
friends were honest.
"It
would never work, Diana." He saw sadness touch her expression, acceptance,
but she didn't crumple or cry.
Lois looked
at him, astounded. "Why not?"
Diana
answered her, but kept looking at
He could see
Diana considering that, as if she had known of Batman's wariness, but hadn't
applied it to herself before. "Perhaps, but he trusts us."
"To a point. But he's also fears the damage we could cause
if we ever lost our control. It's just not his own self control he
guards; he's also vigilant against the possibility that we might also cross a
line." He glanced at Lois, hesitated, then added,
"I gave him kryptonite in case I ever crossed it."
Lois' lips
tightened, but she didn't comment. He knew they would discuss it later.
"So you
agree with him? That we shouldn't be trusted?"
"No, but
I agree that there is a need to be vigilant. Anyone has the capability to lose
control."
Diana smiled
sadly. "You sound just like him."
"No, he
sounds like an idiot." Lois stood up, paced the room. She stopped, glared
at
"But we
could pose a danger to society if--"
"So
could I!" Lois slammed her fist on the table. "I could grab a gun,
hijack a plane and ram it into a building, or get a nuclear bomb and lay waste
to Metropolis. Despite your strength, and your flying around, Smallville, the only real power
you have is that the people of the world look up to you, and respect you.
Because of that, they'd do nearly anything for you. But if
you lose control, you'd lose that respect and power -- hell, you've done it
before -- until you've proven that you are worthy of it again." She
looked at Diana. "And if Batman doesn't recognize that, then he's not
worthy of you anyway."
"You
would have made a fantastic Amazon," Diana said, her admiration plain to
see.
Lois brushed
the hair from her forehead and grinned. "Thanks." She gestured toward
"Oh, do
I have absolute power over you, Clark?" She teased. She winked at Diana.
"See? 'By the power of Greyskull,
I have the power!'"
"I don't
want power over Batman, though," she said when Clark and Lois had quieted.
The
expression on Diana's face told him that she had already come to the conclusion
he had. His heart ached for her, and he hoped with everything in him that the
spell was responsible, that she wouldn't really be hurt.
"Or,"
Lois suggested, "you could fight for him."
Diana shook
her head. "That was my first impulse. To fight for him, like a warrior. To make him love me. But that's not how it works, is
it?"
"I'm
afraid not."
"Well,
that's that, then."
Lois accepted
the subject change without missing a beat. "She's fine, considering."
Lois had held up remarkably well following her father's death,
"Where's
breakfast, Smallville?" Lois eyed the
half-finished omelets on the stove.
Diana and
Lois bent over, laughing. "You're asking the wrong two women, Clark,"
Diana grinned, holding her sides.
He grumbled
and muttered his way back to the stove, pleased that he had lightened the mood
in the kitchen. When Diana left an hour later, she was still smiling. He hoped
it would last a while.
He wandered
into the bathroom where Lois was brushing her teeth. She spit into the sink.
"Do you think she'll be ok?" Her expression was concerned.
"I don't
know," he said, picking up his own toothbrush.
"I saw
what she did for you in
"I
didn't realize you had seen the tape before Luthor
ordered a squash." The video of the scene had included footage of Air
Force One falling to the ground, and Luthor as a
giant spider. The administration had considered both things a danger to
national security and morale, and ordered all media companies to destroy any
copies of the video.
"I
did." She rinsed her mouth. "Funny,
"Maybe." She shrugged. "Anyway, she helped you
through your grief, at a time when I wasn't so sure that I could do that."
Her face was serious. "I wanted to be mad at her, but I can only thank her
for what she did. She's a spectacular woman."
He also loved
that she could look at a video of a beautiful woman comforting him and appreciate what the woman was doing instead of being torn by
jealousy. Her trust in him humbled him. "Don't you mean a wonderful
woman?"
Lois rolled
her eyes. "Your corny small town roots are showing, Clark."
He made a
show of checking his hair. "Where?"
She laughed, then wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I'll show you
a wonderful woman if you go back to the bedroom with me."
"You'll
dress up in her costume? My dream come true," he teased, then dodged the hair dryer.
He ran from
the room, letting her catch him near the sofa. The exciting life of a superhero
be damned, he thought--life would be dull without Lois.
***
Diana slept
until three in the afternoon, then lounged around,
catching up on the stack of newspapers that had accumulated while she had been
busy running between
Batman wouldn't
be expecting her tonight; she was attending and participating in a lecture at
Tomorrow she
would be attending the
Her lasso
hung from her bed post. She hadn't yet used it. She was waiting, she told
herself, until she knew the right questions to ask herself.
Asking herself if she loved him was completely different than
asking if she was in love with him.
She heard the
front door open and slam, then the familiar tread of her sister's walk across
the marble entryway. Diana shrugged into a robe and rushed out of her bedroom.
"Donna?"
Donna smiled
wearily, dropped a duffel bag onto the floor beside a sofa, and collapsed into
its cushions. "Hey, Di."
She yawned and stretched. "I am so tired, I
didn't even have the energy to fly up to the balcony."
Probably for
the best, Diana thought. No use in letting everyone know
where they lived by flying in and out. Then she grimaced. That sounded like
something Batman would think.
"When
did you get back?" Diana sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa, then turned so that her legs rested on the arm, with her
back against the chair's other arm. Comfort, she thought, was important. She
planned to talk to her sister for a while.
Donna checked
the clock above the mantle. "About an hour ago.
It took us a little longer than we expected to make the mine structure safe
again once we got everyone out." She groaned. "For two weeks we've
been moving rocks."
"You
helped them." Diana thought that was worth any effort.
Donna smiled.
"I know, I know." She looked around the room, as if trying to notice
changes. "It just feels like I've been gone forever. Has anything happened
since I've been gone?" She seemed to think of something, and suddenly sat
up. "Diana, you wouldn't believe the rumors I've heard since we've been in
radio contact. About you and --" She burst into laughter. "About you
and B..B--" She laughed harder, unable to finish
the sentence. She wiped her eyes, tried once more. "About you and
B--" She sputtered again.
Diana decided
to help her out. "Batman?"
"Yes!"
Donna howled. "You've heard them, too? Isn't it outrageous?" she
added when she could talk again.
"Outrageous,"
Diana agreed, smiling. "And true."
Donna froze
mid-guffaw. Her eyes wide, she said, "Huh?"
Diana nodded.
"You
actually helped Batman rape a monkey?"
Diana's jaw
dropped. "No!"
Laughing,
Donna said, "Just kidding, sis. So what did happen? I just heard something
about the kitchen and GL finding you and Bats in a...um, compromising
position."
"That's
exactly what happened. And I was going to ask you about it."
"Me?"
Donna lay back down on the sofa. "I thought you knew about the birds and
bees."
"I am
speaking of the spell on the Watchtower's refrigerator."
Donna blushed.
"You know about that? It was just a joke and--" She stopped, and
closed her eyes. "Please don't tell me it had anything to do with you and
Batman doing the nasty."
The nasty? Diana wasn't sure she had heard it phrased that way
before. It didn't seem like an accurate description. "We think so."
"Rhea,"
Donna breathed. She sat up again, placed her hand on Diana's. "Diana, I
swear to you that it wasn't supposed to affect you. It was specifically
designed and intended for Kyle."
"What
was it supposed to do?"
"A bunch
of us were out for dinner one night, and Kyle made a joke about women and their
ice cream, and their hips. We girls decided to think of a way to get back at
him. I came up with the idea." She hesitated. "Diana, I got the spell
from Magala. Before..."
Before Fury ripped out Magala's heart. Ariadne's heart.
"What
exactly was the spell?"
Donna
scrunched her eyebrows together and tried to remember precisely, then recited,
"'By the gods of Olympus, for the light of green from the woman of wonder,
I implore that desire unrevealed, want not wanted, shall be realized; until the
cold has been warmed or the object of affection has been destroyed.' Magala said the 'cold' was the ice cream. And that the
green light was GL, of course." She turned agonized eyes on Diana.
"But, Di, she told me that 'from woman of
wonder' meant that it was just a way for me to give the spell instead of her.
But do you think...?"
"That
she was really directing it at me?" Diana asked,
expression grim. "Yes."
"Diana,
I'm sorry." Donna's face was grave. "I had no reason to believe that Magala would do evil at that time. We didn't know that she
was really Ariadne."
"I know,
sister," Diana said gently. "Ariadne must
have thought that I would give into some unspoken urge, and that somehow that
would damage my standing in Man's World or with the Amazons." Until the object of affection is destroyed. That
explained GL's release from the spell. When she had destroyed the fridge, she
had destroyed the ice cream. Did that mean for her and Batman to be released
that she would have to destroy him? Or herself?
That wasn't
going to happen. There had to be another way. She thought of one, but wanted to
test something first. She got up, strode to her room for her lasso, and looped
it around her waist.
"Am I
under the influence of Ariadne's spell?"
The answer
came from her mouth instantly. "No."
Diana
frowned. It was as she had thought, but why had the spell broken? The reason
struck her a second later.
Until the cold has been warmed. She was in love with
Batman. Her frown deepened. Ariadne had intended for
her to fall in love--why? It was hardly something that Diana considered a
punishment.
Unless, of course, the punishment was that Batman wanted her
against his will. Or that she fell in love with a man who would never return the
feeling.
And, she
realized, that meant something else: Batman wasn't in love, so he was still
under the spell's influence. That meant she would have to get the anti-spell
from Ariadne.
Which meant she would have to travel to the Underworld. Donna came into the
room after her. She would go alone, Diana decided, looking at her sister; she
wouldn't put anyone in danger because of this.
And she
wouldn't tell Batman. At least, not all of it.
"So are
you under the spell?" Donna flopped onto Diana's bed and snuggled into the
pillows.
"No,"
Diana said absently, planning her actions.
"Ah, good." Donna yawned sleepily and closed her eyes.
She opened them again, blue irises twinkling. "So, how was it?"
"What?"
"You
know." Donna moved her hips up and down on the bed. Diana laughed. "With Batman."
"Well,"
Diana said, grinning, and joined her sister on the bed and settled in for a
session of girl talk. "He's picked up some interesting tricks in his
travels, I think."
"Do
tell, do tell!" Donna urged.
Diana did.
***
Bruce quickly
scanned the surrounding buildings, then lifted himself
from his balcony onto Diana's. How convenient, he thought, that one of his
subsidiaries in
The lights in
her penthouse weren't on; he'd checked the schedule she'd filed with the JLA,
and it had indicated that she had a newspaper interview at three, then a ribbon
cutting ceremony at five. He was scheduled to pick her up at eight. He'd
estimated the time the ceremony would take, then flight time from the site--she
should be back by
If she was
working with him, she would play by some of his rules whether she knew it or
not. That included weekly sweeps for transmitting devices and the installation
of discreet sound dampeners. She was a celebrity--a reporter would love to get
a scoop off of her. He just didn't want that scoop to be an overheard
conversation between Batman and Wonder Woman.
He remained
in his civilian clothing; he had left his Bat costume tucked in a locked
compartment on the Wayne Corporation's private jet. It left him with a slightly
odd, exposed feeling; although he was always Batman underneath Bruce Wayne, he
rarely mixed the two as he was doing now--there were simply too many chances to
make an error. Using the wrong voice. Being caught
doing un-billionaire-like things. Although it had never happened, and being
Bruce in civilian clothes was almost second nature, there was always the off
chance of a mistake. One could never be too careful.
And just
being in Bruce Wayne's clothes made his personality, his inner thoughts seem
different. Most of the time, he didn't want to take the risk that the Bruce
Wayne in him would override the Batman.
Not that it
had ever happened. Not that he would ever allow it to happen.
Except with Diana. His presence in her penthouse was proof of
that. He frowned thoughtfully as he removed an electronic detector from his
inner jacket pocket, and set to work sweeping for bugs.
He'd had sex
with her. That, he could blame on magical interference. But
what about the rest? He'd let her train with Batgirl and himself. He'd
let her patrol his city--hell, he'd let her in his city. He'd allowed
her to work with him on the Joker case, and had let Gordon and a few other
officers see her with him.
Either he was
becoming very sloppy, or the spell was having more impact on him than he would
have assumed. After all, it had only stated that he would act upon 'want not
wanted'. That explained the sex with Diana.
So, if it was
the spell, what else did he want? He affixed a sound dampener to the inside of
a vent. A partner to patrol his city? Nonsense. He had Batgirl, Oracle, and if he asked, Nightwing, Robin and Spoiler. Even the
Huntress or Azreal. Someone
to share his mission? Diana had her own mission, and, again, he had his
Bat family to share in his quest to protect
Donna's
bedroom was free of bugs; he attached a transmission scanner to the bottom of
her nightstand, then unscrewed the light fixture above
her bed to install another dampener. He worked smoothly, automatically, the
task made simple by repetition. He'd installed many of these electronics
before.
He forced
himself to turn his thoughts from the situation with Diana to the mystery of
the Joker -- he didn't know whether the spell was causing him to act out of
character, so he would wait until he found out, one way or another, before he
made a decision about Diana. He could wait a while; one thing that the Batman
had was patience. He didn't think he'd have to wait long: Donna had arrived
home yesterday. In all probability, Diana had already asked her about the spell
and was working on a way to break it; then, things would return to normal.
The Joker, he
reminded himself. Focus on the Joker.
He hadn't
been able to find any link between Farletti and
Nichols, except that the Joker had killed them both. With a
poisoned apple, according to the medical examiner's report. The Joker
had made them eat the apples; why he delivered the poison in that manner,
Batman wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that it was the Joker's clue to the
police detectives, and to Batman. But Bruce wasn't sure if the apple was the
joke or the punchline.
He'd
considered several possibilities: the apple as the fruit of knowledge, the
poisoned apple from the Snow White story; and in relation to food, Nichols'
area of expertise, the list was endless. He didn't
know about Farletti, though; in any case, all of the
ideas he had come up with had felt … wrong. There was something that he was
missing, that he couldn't put his finger on. His computer could find a million
links to apples in a second, but if he didn't know the right question to ask
it, all of the links it found were useless. He had to find out the Joker's
angle.
Which he would do tonight, hopefully. The Joker loved to
play with
He smiled at
the irony of it. Just yesterday he had told her that she couldn't be Wonder
Woman in
In hindsight,
he now knew what had set her off. It hadn't just been the belt. It had been his
words. You're not Wonder Woman. Superman had told him about that day,
about his desperate flight to save the woman falling from the sky wearing
Wonder Woman's armor, whom
Bruce
finished in the kitchen. Only Diana's room left. He made his way silently
toward that door.
Guilt over her mother. If he could be glad about anything regarding
his parents death, it was that he knew that they loved him, and that they had
died knowing they had their son's absolute love. There was nothing that he had
said that he regretted.
But why, he
wondered now, would her mother's death make her lose faith in her mission? If
anything, Hippolyta's actions would seem to reinforce
everything that Wonder Woman stood for, and her death should have made Diana
more certain of her goals, her place in the world. Stop war before more people
died. Before more daughters lost their mothers.
The way that
his own mission had been formed with his parents
death. No more loss of life due to crime in
Diana's room
was in shadow, the drapes drawn against the light of the city below, so it took
a few seconds for his eyes to adjust from the half-light of the penthouse to
the near darkness of the bedroom. Took a few seconds for him
to register the figure that was kneeling on a rug in front of a cold, dark
fireplace.
He swore
silently to himself. He should have verified that she had attended the events
on her schedule. A huge mistake, the kind that under other circumstances could
get him killed.
And this was
worse than death. This could lead to loss of control. She was truly, truly
beautiful.
She knelt in
profile to him, her eyes closed, her bronzed skin pearlescent
in the dim light. The subtle glow of her lasso, wrapped around her waist,
emphasized the feminine curve of her warrior's body, her perfect form. A woman of steel--steel body, iron courage. In her, the
antipodal phrase seemed to fit, as surely as the idea of a peaceful warrior
made sense when it was applied to her. A woman who could own
her contradictions. A childhood rhyme, inexplicably, ran through his
mind:
One fist
of iron, the other of steel;
If the left one don't get you,
The right one will.
He wouldn't
let her get him, get to him. He closed his eyes, fighting arousal, fighting the
sudden desire to go to her, to take her, to make her his. Make her Batman's.
"You're
early." Her voice was low.
He let Bruce
Wayne take over. "I came to see if you needed help getting dressed. But if
you are just wearing that, well, gold looks good on you."
Diana opened
her eyes, looked down at her naked, lassoed form, then at Bruce. "Ah,
Bruce Wayne, I see." Her voice matched his, playful, but he was struck by
the serenity of her countenance, of the peaceful light in her gaze. She hadn't
displayed that kind of tranquility for weeks, and the last time he had seen
her, she was leaving the cave in a state of high agitation and confusion.
Caused, he
reminded himself contritely, by his own near attack on her and subsequent
avowal that he would never give in to baser impulses. He understood her anger
yesterday; his own response to her goading had been unacceptable.
He glanced at
the lasso. It could compel someone to do what she commanded. Had she given
herself a false sense of peace? He stifled a grunt of disapproval. As much as
he hid most of his thoughts and feelings from others, he was always brutally
honest with himself, and had always imagined that Diana was, as well. She
didn't need to lasso herself to tell the truth; she would know whether she was
lying or not. Compulsion was the only reason for her to use it on herself.
Unless, he
thought, the lasso had properties that she hadn't told anyone else about.
He liked that
idea even less.
"Meditation
is good for the soul, I hear." He didn't let his voice betray his dark
thoughts. Bruce Wayne's voice.
She slanted
him a disbelieving look as she stood. "I know you studied Eastern
techniques for years, which means you must have had hours of meditation. You
know as well as I do." She stretched and yawned, then unwrapped
the lasso. "Did you let yourself in?"
"Yes,"
he said simply. Then, innocently, "What do you meditate about?"
She smiled
slightly. "I thought the point of meditation was not to have it be about
anything." She opened an adjoining door, an entrance to a large closet,
where she pulled a t-shirt from a hanger, and jeans from a shelf. "Why
were you skulking around out there? I could hear you."
She'd heard
him, another mistake. And she must have known it was him, because she hadn't
come to investigate. "I was sweeping for bugs and installing sound
nullifying equipment." He watched as she pulled on the jeans, then slipped into the shirt. One thing about being Bruce
Wayne, he thought, was that he didn't have any shame. "Why
the lasso with the meditation? Does it help you focus?"
She looped
her hair through an elastic, examining her reflection
in the mirror above a vanity. "You're paranoid," she said finally.
"And I use the lasso to search out lies in myself." She turned to
him. "And for your information, I've already installed nullifiers,
though not for the same reason as you, probably." She grinned. "I
have superhearing, so does Donna. We like to get a
good nights rest, which, in the middle of
"Paranoia
is a handy survival tool," he said, then added, "Did you find any
lies?"
"Yes,
but I found truths, too." She took his hand, led him out into a family
room. She could crush his hand with barely a squeeze, but he didn't pull away.
Her palm was cool and dry against his. "And I suppose it's not paranoia if
they are really after you, hmm? Coffee?" She
asked, and indicated for him to sit on one of the overstuffed sofas.
"I'm
after them, but paranoia still applies. And yes, I'd like a cup." They
still had quite a bit of time before they needed to get to the airport. He
switched back to the topic that interested him. "What lies and truths did
you find?"
"About myself, my mission." With that, she left
the room without expounding whether it had been truths or lies that she had
found in each. Bruce let out a sigh of frustration. Diana didn't lie, but she
wasn't offering a lot of information, either. At least, he thought, it wasn't
as he had assumed. She wasn’t forcing herself to find peace; she really had
been looking for truth in herself with the lasso.
He smiled
grimly. God forbid the lasso should ever be used on him. Just lately she had
forced Superman to confront his grief with it, leaving him bawling in her arms
in the middle of
He was best
alone.
Diana
returned with a carafe of coffee in one hand and a precariously balanced tray
holding mugs, cream and sugar in the other. Bruce jumped up and grabbed the
tray, setting it down on the low sofa table.
"Thanks,"
Diana said. "There are times when telekinesis would be handier than
super-strength." She poured the coffee, mixed in cream and sugar. "So
what is the plan for tonight?"
Batman's voice. "It's as I outlined yesterday. You'll
have backup on the outside from Oracle, Nightwing and
Robin. I'll have Batgirl inside, working on the periphery." Cassandra was
willing to forego her secret identity, which allowed Batman to use her in ways
that he couldn't use Tim, Dick and Barbara. "She'll be in a waitress
uniform. I've instructed them not to engage the Joker himself, only his
cronies. If they are non-powered. Their primary
function is to make sure the crowd is safe. I've developed an antidote to be
deployed through the ventilation system should the Joker poison the
group." He pulled a small vial and hypodermic from his suit pocket.
"Wear this under your clothing. If you are infected, immediately inject
yourself. I'll have one as well."
She took the
contraption, studied it, then nodded. "Any new information on Ellie Nichols and John Farletti?"
He told her
about the apple, hoping that she might have some insight into a joke that he
had missed. She didn't. Finally, she finished her coffee and stood up.
"I
should shower and get ready. Did you want to wait here or will we meet
somewhere?"
He leaned
back in the sofa. There was one more issue they needed to discuss.
"I'll
wait here." He could change quickly in the penthouse below while she
bathed and dressed. He didn't want to be in here while she was wet and naked
less than fifty yards away. "Have you spoken with Donna?"
Diana
gathered the mugs, rattling them against each other. "Yes." She
glanced up at him, then averted her eyes. "I'm
going to Themyscira after the auction tonight to get
the counterspell from Magala.
Donna got the spell from her as a joke on Kyle, but I guess she got a word or
two wrong, which is why it affected us. But it'll be easy enough to get rid
of." She hefted the tray, walked to the doorway, and said over her
shoulder, "There are newspapers under the coffee table, and the remote is
on top of the television. The computer is connected to the Watchtower's
network. Make yourself at home." She left the room.
He frowned at
her retreating back. Diana, former goddess of truth, superhero who searched for
falsehoods with a golden lasso, had just lied through her teeth to him about
the spell.
And, he
promised himself, after Joker's capture, he'd find out why.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Chapter 4: The Dark
The problem
with these functions, Diana thought, is that everyone is more interested in
being seen caring than actually caring about the problem for which they are
raising money. There were notable exceptions, of course, but for the most part
She knew that
she was an effective speaker, and that her speech before dinner had garnered
some real interest and enthusiasm for the Wayne Foundation's cause, but she was
also aware that most of them would forget about it in the next two or three
days. They would pay their money and consider their duty done.
The money
helped, but an hour of time from each of them would do much, much more.
Or, she
thought, looking at Bruce, a lifetime of hours.
His date for
the evening was, Diana imagined, the type of woman Bruce Wayne would have
married had his life taken a different turn. Marcia, a stockbroker: sharp,
elegant, lean and gorgeous. Blonde, Diana noted. She remembered what Batman had
said about brunettes, and smiled. Probably blonde so that he wouldn't be
tempted to get into a relationship, since he preferred darker women. Except for her.
"Your
speech was marvelous, my dear." An elderly woman, Greta Janesson, said from the seat next to her. "I'm sure
that the Wayne Foundation feels indebted to you. They'll exceed their
expectations for tonight, I think."
Across the
table, Bruce looked up from his date's chest. "I'm sure we will, Mrs. Janesson, and indebted we are." He grinned wolfishly.
"I'd be happy to show the princess exactly how indebted."
Diana noticed
the brief flash of hurt in Marcia's eyes. "I don't think, Mr. Wayne, that
what you have to offer would even begin to satisfy me--or your debt."
Touché, Bruce's eyes said,
but he added, "But, Princess, my assets are very large. I feel that I can
satisfy any debt."
Mrs. Janesson giggled. Diana glanced at her blushing cheeks,
then at Marcia's stony glare. She picked up a small carrot from her plate, bit it in half with a flash of white teeth. Bruce
gulped theatrically. "However big your ass is, Mr. Wayne--"
"Assets,"
he interjected smoothly.
"Same difference." Diana waved her hand dismissively.
There were a few chuckles from the table next to theirs. "No matter their
size, Mr. Wayne, I don't think that you have anything to offer me worth
accepting." Her gaze raked his figure, found him wanting. "Besides,
I've heard that reports on the size of your assets are exaggerated."
"My
accountants and portfolio managers would disagree." He nodded at Marcia. "Right, honey?"
Marcia curled
her lip; Diana silently applauded her reaction. This Bruce Wayne was a
womanizing jerk. Marcia said, voice dripping with venom, "I can vouch for
the size of your portfolio, honey, but as for your other assets, all I
can say is that they seem overblown, little used and never seen."
"And
there's no accounting for taste, anyway. Isn't that how the saying goes?"
Diana looked around the table for confirmation. Eight heads nodded.
Bruce turned
away and made a show of trying to console Marcia. Diana wondered how he could
constantly alienate people in his need to maintain his secret identity. It must
be very lonely.
"He's a
good boy, really," Mrs. Janesson said in a low
voice next to her. "We've known him for years, we knew his parents."
Diana lifted
an eyebrow in feigned disbelief. "A good boy?"
"Don't look
at me like that. It's true." Mrs. Janesson
assured her. "Mark--my husband--and I have a theory that he is afraid of
commitment because of what happened to Thomas and Martha. Bruce's
parents."
Little did
she know just how much their deaths had affected him, Diana thought. Did
anyone, anyone at all, know who Bruce really was, who Batman really was? Maybe Alfred. But it was likely that Bruce kept things from
Alfred, as well. The butler was like a father to Bruce, and Diana knew of no
child that shared everything with its parents.
And the
things that were shared were not always the things that should be said.
"Oh,
dear, I'd forgotten that you just lost your mother as well." Greta patted
Diana's hand sympathetically. "For a moment there you looked as if you
wanted to cry."
Diana caught
Bruce looking at them, listening, before he noticed her attention and winked
suggestively. She ignored him and smiled at the older woman. "I was
thinking about her, as well as other things."
"I know,
it sneaks up at odd moments, and you'll see someone, or do something that
reminds you of her, and it'll hurt all over again." Her face creased into
a wistful smile. "I lost my mother young, too." She shook herself. "But no matter. I met your mother once. I was stationed
as a nurse in a field office during the war." She began telling the story;
Diana listened with half of her concentration on the tale, the other half on
the room, alert for any hint of the Joker.
Batman
thought he'd show tonight; and, as Oracle had pointed out to Diana many times,
he was usually right.
***
He might have
been wrong, Bruce acknowledged, checking his watch. The auction was nearly
complete; the only item left was Diana's golden olive branch. The announcer was
currently building up excitement in the unique object.
"And to
give away this magnificent item is Wonder Woman herself, of Themyscira,
the magical isle where this amazing tree grows. Princess Diana?"
Bruce clapped
with the rest of the guests as Diana returned to the podium where she had
spoken earlier. The sound of applause mingled with the murmurs of approval her
appearance always elicited; in her blue silk sheath that perfectly matched her
eyes, she was breathtaking. And, Bruce noted with approval, the dress was
functional. Although ankle-length, the dress had slits all the way up both
thighs, allowing maximum movement. And, he couldn't help but observe, showing a
disturbing amount of smooth, toned leg. Which was stupid to notice, he reminded
himself, since in her Wonder Woman uniform she showed much more than that.
She wore no
jewelry except her bracelets and a small pendant that held the vial of Joker
venom antidote enclosed in the tiny hypodermic. She would simply have to grab
the necklace and inject herself, should something happen.
Which, increasingly,
it looked as though nothing would.
She took the
branch in hand and stepped to the microphone, smiling warmly. "Athena,
from whose tree this golden bough has been taken, is a goddess of
contradictions: she is a warrior, yet her favorite tree, the olive, has become
a symbol of peace and harmony." Not unlike Diana herself, Bruce thought. A warrior who wants peace. "She is also known for her
wisdom. It is no mistake that the most wise of the
Olympian gods values both war and peace. What
Thunderous
applause filled the room. Diana remained at the podium, her smile fixed on her
face. The crowd slowly quieted, anticipating another part to her speech, or the
commencement of the bidding. She remained quiet, eerily still.
The Joker. Hot fear clawed at Bruce's stomach, before he forced it
into cold calculation. Murmurs rose around him; he ignored them, focused on
Diana. The paralyzing venom. The Joker must have
deployed it through the microphone, or a mechanism under the podium. She hadn't
had time to inject herself with the Joker venom's antidote. The Joker could
infect her now, and she would be in a dire situation unless she got help.
Cassandra,
dressed as one of the servers and hanging back in the shadows, moved toward the
podium. She had an extra dose of the anti-venom, but, Batman realized, it wouldn't
affect Diana's paralysis. He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.
Batgirl returned to the corner, waiting.
Where was the
Joker? He scanned the room.
High pitched
giggles floated into the conference room; the murmuring of the crowd stopped,
replaced by a silent dread. They were Gothamites,
they knew what that giggle meant. And something was obviously wrong with Wonder
Woman.
There he was.
Batman sat in Bruce Wayne's skin, watching, expression nonchalant, as the clown
floated into the room on a seat of balloons.
He raised his
arms. "Hello,
Don't be
relieved to soon, Batman thought. He glanced at Diana. Still
frozen. She just needed time, he thought. And if the Joker did infect
her, she would be okay. He'd seen her fight through Joker venom with the help
of her healing gods. The antidote would work much more quickly, but she
probably wouldn't die from it. Unless the Joker did something to her while she
was paralyzed.
He wouldn't
let himself consider that. If worse came to worse, Batgirl would act. And if
that didn't work, if it meant saving Diana, Bruce Wayne would stop the Joker
himself, and face whatever questions followed. But that wasn't going to happen.
Diana would break through her paralysis. He knew that she could.
What had she
said? I left my body to dance with Pan, then came
back, and the chaos of Pan's dance overwhelmed the poison, and I was free. But
there had been a cost. I told him some jokes, electrocuted myself on a light
socket, then lit a fuse on his bomb. Of course, the
hard part was repressing the chaos after that. It's still in me.
Diana had
already been skirting the edge: her grief over her mother, her doubt over her
mission. She might be as much of a danger as the Joker if she let the chaos
out. A danger to herself, a danger to the guests. But
it was a risk Batman decided he might have to take.
The Joker
floated to the podium, jumped from his balloons, and squealed with glee.
"What have we here? Wonder Babe, but," he said, turning soulful eyes
on the crowd, "she's not here to save the day. Yoink!" He plucked the
golden branch from Diana's unmoving fingers, then ran
his gloved hand up her bare arm. "From one limb to
another, hey, Wondy?" He fanned himself,
the branch waving wildly, glinting above the stage lights. "Is she hot or
what? Or is it something else?" He laughed at the crowd as they
immediately envisioned themselves being burned to death by the Joker.
*J'onn,* Batman called to the Martian Manhunter.
There was always a very, very low-key connection between all of the JLA.
*Batman?* The familiar touch of the Martian's mind entered Batman's.
The Joker was
circling Diana now, looking her up and down. *I need you to connect me to
Diana's mind.* Batman sent the message to the telepath.
A pause, then
J'onn's shocked response grated harshly over Batman's
brain. *It's a mess in there, Bruce. I'm not sure if you'll be able to reach
her. What's going on?*
*The Joker,*
Batman thought, then, *Connect me.*
Swirling
thoughts, half memories rushed into Batman's head, bombarding him. He had been
in the Joker's mind before, it was chaotic like this, but with a difference.
There was no overwhelming current of evil; this chaos was pure, and filled with
light. It gave him hope.
But, he
reminded himself, it was still chaos. He felt the brush of something strong,
solid against his mind, and he grasped onto it. He didn't have much time.
*Diana.*
*Bruce?* Her mind touched his, recognized him. Warmth filled him, an
outpouring of emotion from her, staggering him. What was that? he wondered briefly, before telling her, *I need you to come
up, out of this. The Joker's here. Fight the poison.*
He felt her
hesitate. *It'll bring the chaos up.* He absorbed a brief flash of fear from
her--fear of his disapproval? That couldn't be right.
*Fight that,
too, Diana.* She had to fight it, but if she couldn't, he would deal with that
later. She needed to wake up, help him. He felt her waver, pushed harder. Her
mind slipped from his, slightly, torn away by her brain's disorder. He would
lie if it meant that she would save herself. *Diana, people are going to die
here. I am going to die if you don't come out of it.*
A surge of power
erupted from her mind, and the link between them broke. He looked onstage; she
wasn't moving, the Joker was prodding at her immobile
body.
Then she
blinked.
"Oracle,
tell the others to get ready. And to be as wary of Diana as of anyone
else," Batman whispered into his cufflink, which doubled as a microphone.
He hated to give that order, but he didn't know what was going to happen.
*Batman, I
felt the link break. Diana's still in turmoil, even greater than before.* J'onn sounded worried. *But there's also an overwhelming
sense of purpose, not to let you die. Should we be
concerned?*
*Put Superman
on standby.* If something went wrong, they might need his help.
The Joker
rubbed the silk of Diana's dress between his gloved fingers. "Nice, but I
have to admit I like your biker chick outfit better."
Diana grabbed
his hand, grinned, a wild light in her eyes. "I'll wear it for you if you
lend me your Harley to ride."
Batman noted
the relief of the guests, but waited for the trick. The Joker would have been
aware that Diana could break out of paralysis; she had done so before.
The clown
pulled away from her, leaving Diana with a plastic hand in her grasp.
"Diana,
don't grab him. We don't know what else he might have up his sleeve." Literally.
She must have
heard his low command; she stopped mid-reach for his lapels. The Joker laughed.
"Oh, you Amazons. Always
looking for a way to take a guy's girl away." He pointed up to the
ceiling. Several panels had been removed while the Joker had played with Diana;
two thugs held automatic rifles, pointed at the crowd. "But this time the guy's going to get away from the girl. And
take a few girls out while he does."
Diana looked
up. Batman saw the indecision war on her features: take out the Joker, or save
the innocent. Normally, he knew, it wouldn't have been a choice for her.
Finally, she moved.
She flew in
front of the rifles, bracelets flashing as the bullets slammed against them.
Under the
cover of the noise, Batman issued orders, fast and furious. "Batgirl,
follow the Joker. He's going. Don't fight him, don't let him see you." He
looked up. "Robin, Nightwing, two of his men are in the ventilation system, with automatic rifles. I want
them for questioning." They had been on the roof, waiting for his signal,
watching for the Joker. He wondered how the Joker had gotten in past them, but
at this moment, that wasn't as important as stopping the two gunmen.
Click. The
gunfire stopped, the ammunition gone. The men disappeared from sight, scurrying
back through the air ducts.
"Diana,
stay here. Nightwing and Robin will get them."
She looked
down at him, then glanced away. She floated gently to
the ground amidst whistles and applause. She flew to the podium, and cupped her
hand over her ear as if listening.
She smiled at
the crowd. Bruce held his breath, wondering what was going on in her head. Her
eyes were still wild, her expression carefree. "I've just been informed
that the Gotham City Police are on their way to take
statements, so if everyone will take their seats, we'll finish this while we
wait."
Batman
relaxed. That was probably true. Oracle confirmed that it was a second later.
She
continued, "We have a problem, though. The Joker took my branch." She
made an exaggerated pout, her lower lip thrusting out. The crowd tittered.
"What can we auction off in its place?" No suggestions from the
guests. They were still too wound up from the appearance of the Joker to take
advantage of Diana's playful mood. Too playful, Batman worried.
Her eyes lit
up, and she held a finger up triumphantly. "I know!" She paused. "A kiss. I will kiss, Amazon style, the highest
bidder." She grinned wickedly. "And don't forget, ladies, you can
bid, too. I believe in equal opportunities."
Batman fought
a scowl. At least the Wayne Foundation would be happy, if the shouted bid
amounts were any indication. He glanced at the door, wondering if he should try
to leave now, or wait until she finished. He needed to get into costume, go
after the Joker. Bruce Wayne would be missed, though, and he still had to get
rid of his date.
"Bruce,
there's no way you can pass that up," Nightwing's
amused voice crackled over the tiny receiver in Batman's ear. Oracle had
apparently relayed what was happening in the conference room to them while they
chased down the Joker's goons.
"Get
back to work," he growled. Beside him, Marcia looked at him askance. She'd
heard him. He smiled winningly. "I was daydreaming about making Diana my
slave," he said, to Marcia's obvious disgust. She slid her chair as far
away from his as possible.
Well, might
as well do the job completely, he thought, and raised his hand to enter a bid.
He had a reputation to protect, and Marcia would probably leave by a taxi in
about ten minutes.
One thousand, one hundred twenty six Gotham
City women down, millions more to go.
***
Joker's
gunmen had been useless; they knew nothing of the Joker's plans. They'd just
been hired guns. Hired by a woman, not the Joker.
Bruce screeched the Batmobile to a halt in the cave.
Batgirl had lost the clown when he'd sped away in a car driven, Batgirl had
said, by a woman. Who? Batman wondered. Who would be helping that insane
maniac? And was she using the Joker, or was the clown using her?
And where was
Diana?
"Computer
-- locate all known female associates of the Joker in reverse chronological
order," he commanded, then got out of the car. Two
murders. He'd taken baklava and, most likely, a musical instrument. The
GCPD was going through Farletti's inventory, looking
for whatever was missing; they should be finished soon. And
now a golden branch. Which, Diana had assured him,
held no special properties, magic or otherwise.
"Computer -- link to JLA locator. Give position of
Wonder Woman."
"Wonder
Woman's position unknown."
Batman
frowned. She had left minutes after the police had arrived, before Bruce had
given his statement and gone to question the two gunmen. Had she gone after the
Joker? Batgirl hadn't mentioned seeing Diana follow them.
A light
flashed and a short beep from the computer indicated that someone from the
Watchtower was trying to contact him.
"On screen."
Superman's
image filled up the monitor. "Where's Diana?"
Under his
mask, Batman's eyes narrowed. Clark's concern was wasting his time. Talking
about Diana being missing wasn't conducive to finding her. "I don't
know." He reached forward to disconnect, but Superman's next words stopped
him.
"What
did you let the Joker do to her? J'onn told me her
mind was in ruins."
I let the
Joker to do her? "That came from Diana herself, not the Joker."
Superman leaned
closer to the monitor in the Watchtower, as if trying to intimidate Batman, to
force him to see something
"She
didn't break. She opened herself up to it." A thousand years. As if Batman
had forgotten.
"To save you!"
What was he
getting at? "She's a hero, Superman. I'm her comrade. That's what she
does." A new thought occurred to Bruce; news of the auction would have
reached the wires by now, including the final bid and kiss with Bruce Wayne. "Jealous,
A mixture of
anger and sadness played across Superman's face. "Some detective,"
Clark said, and closed the link.
The monitor
went dark, and Batman smiled, then pulled off his mask
and cape.
A list of
names popped up onscreen; Batman considered each woman carefully, noted their
locations, and sent a list of a select few to Barbara, asking her to have Nightwing and Robin check them out. The other names on the
list he could account for: they were locked up, or simply wouldn't have helped
the Joker with his murders. Every criminal had their own methods; for the most
part, the women on the list had split with the Joker because their methods
hadn't meshed with his, and wouldn't work with him again. The Joker was simply
too unstable to have partners for any length of time.
Except Harley
Quinn, Batman acknowledged, but she was currently in Metropolis. In any case,
it wasn't her style to stay out of the limelight. She would have been in that
conference room with the Joker, laughing and dancing as he terrified the guests
and stole the branch.
"Computer,
cross reference apples, baklava, a golden branch, and musical
instruments." Before the golden branch, the computer had listed too many
possibilities. Perhaps the branch would narrow things down.
A proximity
alert flashed on the monitor. A flying person approaching the
cave entrance. "Computer, identify."
"Diana
of Themyscira, code name Wonder Woman, member of the
Justice League of
"Enough."
Good, she was back. She had probably waited until she had pushed the chaos
back, deep within her, not wanting to endanger anyone.
Less than
five seconds after she entered the cave he realized that she had repressed some
of it, but not all of it. She landed near the Batmobile,
smiling, still in her blue dress. She leaned a hip lazily against the side of
the car, brushed a hand through her wind-tangled hair.
She looked
like a siren bent on luring men to their deaths.
Ignore it, he
told himself, and said brusquely, "Come here, Diana. We need to test your
blood to make sure that you are processing the paralyzing venom without side
effects."
She walked
toward him, a sway to her hips that usually wasn't there, a determined glint in
her eyes that told him he was in trouble. Control, Batman knew, wasn't just
about strength. When Diana lost some of her control, she also lost some of her
other inhibitions--her emotions had a freer reign: anger, joy, selfishness, her
sense of humor, her sexuality.
Diana
strolled to the med-table and lifted herself onto it. She held out an arm. "My blood's all yours, Batman." She smiled; he
watched her warily. He readied a test tube, moved in close to her. He smelled
the faint perfume she had sprayed on earlier that evening, light, seductive. He
could remember how she had tasted.
He jabbed the
needle into her inner elbow, harder than he had intended. She didn't flinch.
Red fluid filled the tube; he removed it, grabbed another tube.
"You
paid far too much money for that kiss." Her voice was low.
The second
tube filled. He removed the needle, covered the puncture with a puff of cotton,
then taped it. "It was for the Foundation."
He tried to step back, but she caught his hand as he finished smoothing the
tape, held it firmly. She scooted to the edge of the table, pulled him to her, wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping him against her,
against the table.
"You
could have my kisses for free."
Her legs were
like a gentle vise; he thought of seventeen different ways to escape. He
stayed. "Nothing is for free."
Her fingers
traced the breadth of his shoulders, the line of his pectorals, the Bat emblem.
"I offer them freely. What cost would they be to you?"
He said
nothing. He had already told her of the cost.
"Oh, yes, your control." She leaned forward,
bit his collarbone. She wasn't sitting on the table any longer, he realized;
she was floating to keep her weight off of him, her legs holding his body to
hers.
"Yes."
He hissed the word. His control. Which
was breaking down by the second. She rubbed her groin against his, and
knew she would feel his involuntary reaction. "Diana, stop. You aren't
yourself."
"Not
myself?" She leaned back, tightened her legs slightly, so that her pelvis
pressed fully against his erection. She sat up suddenly, caught his lower lip
between her teeth. He felt the brush of her tongue against it before she
released him. "I feel very much like myself." Her nose touching his,
he stared into her light blue eyes, which burned with hunger.
His arousal
matched hers, but he wouldn't let himself give into it. Not because of his
control, but because of the lack of hers. When it had happened under the spell,
it was different. They had both acted without hesitation. Now, he was
resisting. Even if he gave in to her seduction, when she was back to normal she
would remember that he started out reluctant. If they followed through on what
she was offering, when she was like this, she would never forgive herself. He
just had to get through to her and make her see that.
She didn't
give him the chance. Moving quickly, she flipped them around; he landed on his
back on the med-table, she straddled him, her chest against his, weighing him
down. "What if you don't lose control; what if I take it from you?"
she whispered, her breath hot against his cheek. She
sat up, grabbed his collar and ripped the top of his uniform in half, shredding
the body armor like cobwebs. "What if I change strategies? You force
justice, what if I force … love?" She looked down at his chest, licked her
lips. "I've seen a lot of men with flawless bodies, Bruce, but I've always
looked at them as if they were Greek statues: perfect, but cold. But you…every
scar, every mark on you makes you more impressive, more
human."
Batman kept
his expression impassive as she ran her hands over his torso, rested her arms
on his chest, her bracelets surprisingly warm from the heat of her wrists. She
dipped her head and kissed an old bullet wound; it burned straight to his heart.
He wanted to give in, wanted to let her take him.
But he
couldn't.
Nor, he
realized, could he throw her from him. She needed to be brought to her senses
with logic, not with violence. "It's the chaos talking, Diana, not you.
Think. 'Forced love'? It is impossible. This isn't what you stand for."
She licked a
knife scar, then looked up. "Yes it is, I -- how
did you put it once? Ah, yes. I 'force peace.' Why not this,
too?"
He played a
different card. "What would your Amazon sisters think of you forcing
me?" They had been raped and beaten by Herakles'
men long ago, before they built their cities on Themyscira.
She paused a
moment before answering; he latched on to her hesitation. Her heritage was a
key. Despite her faltering, however, her answer was resolute. "They. Are. Greek." She
punctuated each word with a lick to an abdominal muscle. Diana looked up at
him, a lascivious smile curving her lips. "Did you know, Batman, that in
ancient times, one night a year during the Dionysus feasts, women were allowed
to take any man who wandered out into the night for their own pleasure? You do
wander out into the night often, Batman." She tugged at his waistband,
pulling his pants down over his hips, exposing him.
"Diana,
don't--"
She continued
as if he hadn't spoken, and cupped him, gently. "They would approve of me
taking a man that I want. And I do want you, Batman. I want to pleasure
you." She took him into her mouth.
The cords
stood out on his neck as he fought against the sensations that threatened to
overwhelm him. Dear God. His mind clawed for restraint. Her
heritage.
"Princess--"
No, that was wrong. He had to hurry, he was going to slip over the edge, and if
he did he would lose her forever: lose her in her guilt, in his inability to be
in control. "Wonder Woman. Stop. Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman."
She froze, then sat up. He nearly groaned in relief, in disappointment.
She stared at
him, face filled with shock, shame and horror. "What am I doing?" She
glanced down at his groin, then back up at him. He lifted his hips, tugged his
pants over his erection. He ignored the ache; it would go away. "Great Hera, I nearly raped you. What was I doing?" She shook
her head, climbed down from the med-table. Her eyes pleaded with him.
"Bruce, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She looked at her hands, as if
amazed and ashamed she had used them to hold him down.
He sat on the
edge of the table, their positions opposite of when they had started, of when
she had given her blood. Reaching out a hand, he grasped her chin, made eye contact.
"It wasn't you, Diana. You were forced to embrace the chaos. And the spell
is still at work."
She jerked
away from him, turned her back, rubbing her arms as if to dispel a terrible
cold. "That's not an excuse. You know it, I know it."
"No, but
it is a reason. You should work on dealing with the chaos, to make sure it
doesn't happen again."
A short laugh
escaped her. "Are you offering to help train me in that, too?"
It would be
too dangerous, for him and for her. Not physically, emotionally.
"No."
Her shoulders
slumped ever so slightly. She took a deep breath. "I can head to Themyscira and break the spell tonight, then, and after
that I won't be in
And I
won't run into you as often, either. She didn't say the words aloud, but he heard
them nonetheless. His stomach tightened. He stared at her back and told himself
her leaving was for the best.
She finally turned, her face pale but determined. She nodded at his work
station. "Do you need me to do anything tonight before I leave?"
Yes. Stay.
He
banished that voice and glanced at the computer. It was still working on his
previous requests and had compiled a substantial list. Only seven minutes had
passed since she had come into the cave; it felt like hours. "I don't
think so."
She took a
step back. "I'll be going then. I'll see you at the JLA meeting."
He grabbed
her hand. "I'll get Alfred to take you to the airport for a flight to
"I can
fly. Or transport," she said, rubbing her thumb against his palm.
"You're
tired, Princess, and shaken. Take a rest. At least to
"It's no
effort."
"It's no
effort for me to do this for you. Please." He added the last, knowing it
would sway her decision.
"Very well." She sighed.
Aw, hell. He
pulled her close, kissed her hard. Her lips were soft under his; he deepened
the kiss, then pulled away. "Go break that spell,
Princess."
She lifted a
hand to her lips, nodded. "Until the meeting, Batman," she said, but
they both knew, in many ways, it was a goodbye.
He watched
her disappear into the corridor leading to the mansion, and hopped down from
the table, then walked over to the exercise area. The computer was still working,
and he needed to burn off some energy.
Her absence
left a hollow in the pit of his stomach, but, he reminded himself, it would go
away once the spell had been broken.
A dummy's
head flew across the cave, fell down the abyss. He listened for it to hit
bottom, stood there, chest heaving. He hadn't found out why she had lied to him
about the spell at her apartment earlier; but, he thought, it had probably had
something to do with her sister's involvement in it. Diana would break the
spell, and it wouldn't matter, anyway.
Batman wiped
himself down with a towel, walked back to the computer. The loneliness would be
gone in a few hours, soon after Diana arrived on Themyscira.
Until then, he would lose himself in his work, in capturing the Joker.
The incoming
message alert beeped--the line from GCPD headquarters. Batman accepted the
transmission, and an inventory list scrolled across his screen. Farletti's list.
The computer quickly cross-referenced Farletti's
records and the police inventory, and found which instrument was missing.
A lyre. Batman frowned. What the hell?
***
Diana caught
Alfred looking at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes concerned. She had
probably been sighing for the last six miles. Giving him a reassuring smile,
she said, "I'm not very comfortable in vehicles. Strange, I know."
She felt smaller, more vulnerable in cars. She didn't know why, considering she
often flew at mach speeds through the air.
"Perhaps
a little radio to help you relax, miss?"
"Please,
Alfred. A news channel, I think."
"Very
good, miss."
--called a unexpected press conference, where he announced he would
immediately stop his bombing campaign against dissident tribes in the northern
part of the nation. The dictator gave no explanation for his decision, except
to say that he had finally realized the horror of war, and did not want to be
the instigator of such terror any longer. In other news, Superman--
"I've
changed my mind, Alfred. I think I'd prefer to have the radio off."
The radio
clicked. The low purr of the motor was the only sound in the car. Diana closed
her eyes, leaned back in the plush seat. So it had worked. Batman's way had
worked. She might not have done it, had she been in complete control of herself, but that wasn't something she could change now.
Her heart
felt heavy. She had finally stopped a war, but at what cost to herself? She had
left the auction, flown across the world to kidnap a military dictator,
frightened him, and forced him to witness what his bombing had done. The children, hungry and homeless. The men
and women, injured, crippled or dead. Then she had told him she would
come after him, and do the same to him, if he allowed it to go on one more day.
All while
wearing a dark cloak, a mask, and using a voice different from
her own.
Hours ago, at
her apartment, she had used the lasso of truth to recognize that she believed
that Batman's way would be successful, but she had also been forced to
acknowledge that it wasn't Wonder Woman's way. So she had decided to follow the
edicts of Wonder Woman, and had accepted the contradiction within herself. It
had brought her some measure of peace. But now, she had done what she had sworn
she would not do, because she hadn't been able to control the chaos that had
raged within her.
And she had
forced herself upon Bruce, hours after she had accepted and found peace in
knowing that she loved him, but he would never love her. And now…now that peace
was gone.
Wonder Woman
wouldn't have done the things Diana had that night.
Athena, she thought, I
could use your wisdom now.
"We are
entering the city, miss. Are there any stops you would like to make before we
merge onto the freeway to the airport?"
Early morning
hung heavily over
"No,
Alfred. Thank you."
Alfred
obviously thought the same thing. "It's probably best, miss. The people of
Diana hid a
grim smile. Such as herself. She wondered if he would
say that if he'd known what she'd done to his Master Bruce thirty minutes
earlier.
"Will
you be returning soon to continue your training with Master Bruce, miss?"
Regret tugged
at her heart. She had enjoyed the training sessions with him and Batgirl.
"I don't think so, Alfred. Bruce will have his hands full with the Joker,
and I need to return to my duties." Not that she had neglected them, but
it was a convenient excuse to use.
"Ah, the Joker." Alfred shook his head, sadness
touching his features. "He and Master Bruce will destroy each other some
day."
"Why,
Alfred?"
"There
is nothing good left in the clown, miss; I fear that one day Master Bruce will
be forced to bring about his end." Alfred met Diana's eyes in the mirror.
"Not that, under some circumstances, that would be wrong. But such an
action would make him fear himself."
Diana thought
of the thin line Batman said he treaded. "I think that he already does
that, Alfred." The butler gave a slow nod of agreement. "Do you also
believe, then, that there is no chance of rehabilitation for the Joker?"
"I do
not know, miss. But a man's heart is a strange thing; it can be surrounded by
darkness and still give off its own light, or it can be surrounded by light, and cast shadows all around it. The clown seems to be
of the dark, and his heart eats away at the light around it."
Diana
considered that, then asked, "What about
Bruce?"
Alfred smiled
fondly. "Master Bruce is convinced that his heart is dark, but the simple
fact is that he simply lives in darkness. He surrounds himself with light,
though: young Master Dick, Robin, the heroes of the JLA. In an attempt, I
think, to remind himself of what he once had. At the
same time, though, the lights remind him what he is fighting for and what he
lost, and unfortunately, he must fight in the dark."
Alfred drove
onto a private airfield, and stopped the car, then got out. He strode around to
open Diana's door. "What about you, Alfred?"
"I live
in light, Miss Diana, and that light is Master Bruce. Even when he is
surrounded by the dimmest, darkest light, he is the brightest light for me,
like the sun. Like a son."
"I hope
he realizes that." Diana smiled, kissed the older man's cheek. "I'm
glad he has you."
"So am
I, miss, but I also hope he finds someone else one day." Alfred looked
directly at her.
Diana looked
away. It wouldn't be her. "So do I, Alfred."
She held out her hand, gave him a small transmitter. "This is the Bat
radio that he gave me; I won't be needing it
now."
Alfred took
it, rolled it around on his palm. "Are you sure, miss?"
"Yes."
Alfred
nodded. "Very well, Miss Diana." He guided
her to the left. "The plane is this way."
Diana stopped
him with a gentle hand to his forearm. "I think I'll get home under my own
power, Alfred." She saw him about to argue, and continued before he could
convince her otherwise. The butler had a way of coercing a person before they
realized it. "I need the time to think, to clear my head."
"As you
wish, miss," he said, and watched as she lifted into the night sky.
Diana flew
quickly, the wind roaring past her. The night was bright, clear, the stars
burning icy holes in the dome of the sky. Constellations from her Greek history
floated above her: Casseopeia, Herakles,
Orpheus' lyre, Orion, Pegasus, Andromeda.
In my own
history, this is what I would consider my period of darkest light.
Her mother's death, the civil war and destruction of Themyscira,
her uncertainty about her mission, her impossible love for Batman, her recent
actions; but, she thought, she was not surrounded by darkness. There was light,
too. Her Amazon sisters, Superman and her comrades in the
JLA, her human friends that had welcomed her into Patriarch's World. And Batman.
Especially Batman. She touched her lips, cold now from the brisk
flight.
She opened
the French doors to her bedroom, went to the chest at the end of the bed. She
had work to do. She needed to enter the Underworld and
remove the spell from Batman. She had gone before; it required preparation and
meditation. And the courage to face whatever the dark realm threw at her.
She had to do
it, though; Bruce was counting on her. She understood, now more than ever, what
his control must mean to him. She had nearly lost her own, nearly raped him;
his worry was much larger: he didn't want to kill.
He must have
hated that the magic took away his control, made him have sex with her. It
wasn't the sex itself, she knew, but that the choice had not been his. And, as
long as the spell remained on him, as long as it altered his thoughts, however
slightly, he would live in fear of losing control, that the decisions he made
were not his own, and that they would lead to other alien decisions.
If the price
of that was losing whatever hold over him the spell
had given her, so be it.
For Diana,
love was a gift; but, if Batman considered it a burden, the last thing she
would ever do was lay her feelings on his shoulders. She was not ashamed of her
love, nor would she hide it--but neither would she use it against him.
And now, the
best way that she could love him was to erase any false feelings of love he had
for her, physical or emotional.
She stood for
love. She stood for truth. They were not the same thing, and sometimes,
couldn't co-exist.
***
Batman stared
at the monitors. The baklava had been too specific, any treat would have done.
Orpheus used
his lyre to enter the Greek mythological Underworld to rescue his wife, Eurydice.
Aeneas needed
a golden bough to gain entrance into the Roman mythological Underworld.
Both Aeneas
and Psyche had subdued the three headed dog, Cerberus, guardian of the gates of
the Underworld, with a bit of cake. Baklava would work just as well, Batman
theorized.
The Joker was
headed for the Underworld. Why? And how did the poisoned apple he'd used fit
into this? Batman ordered the computer to search Greek and Roman myths.
Atalanta had been tricked by her lover with a golden apple. The
Trojan War had begun over a golden apple that the goddess of Discord, Eris, had thrown into a banqueting hall--wait.
Eris. He and Diana had fought the goddess, along with her two
brothers, Deimos and Phobos,
not long ago. One of the apples, the golden apple of Maxie
Zeus, had been lost. Maxie Zeus had sacrificed
himself to give rise to the war god Ares; and, Batman remembered, Maxie had a daughter: Medea.
Dr. Kaeklis, the doctor who had diagnosed the Joker with his
fatal disease, had once made a donation to Maxie
Zeus, had been one of the supporters of Maxie's
religious theories.
He needed to
talk to Medea.
And, he
realized, Diana. There was no one who knew more about Greek mythology than she.
He punched a button on his console.
"Alfred,
have you dropped Diana off yet?"
"She
flew out almost a half an hour ago, sir. I'm nearing the mansion now."
Batman swore.
Well, she would have to fly back from the plane, then. She could jump out in
mid-air. He needed her in the cave, needed her expertise when he questioned Medea. He called up the location of the Wayne Corp private
jet, noted it was still at the
"Alfred,
did you say she flew out?"
"Yes,
Master Bruce, but I'm afraid it was under her own power."
"She was
supposed to use the jet."
"I am
only a man, Master Bruce. Should I have manhandled her onto the plane?"
Batman ground
his teeth together. "Thank you, Alfred."
"Very good, sir."
Bruce tapped
his hand against the arm of the chair. He knew Diana wasn't wearing her JLA commlink and locator, because he'd tried that earlier in
the evening. And, if she had gone directly to Themyscira,
he wouldn't have the chance to speak with her until she returned to Man's
World.
Her sister
might be able to help him, however.
"Computer,
locate Donna Troy."
"Donna
Troy logged in at Titan headquarters."
He
established a link, told a startled Flash to get Troia.
While he waited, he started a search for Medea Zeus.
He found the information he was looking for sooner than he expected.
Two tickets
purchased for that evening on the Concorde to
Donna
appeared onscreen, her eyes and face so much like Diana's that Bruce blinked. Twins, but with subtle and not so subtle differences. Diana
was taller, heavier, her features more sharply defined. But the hair, eyes were
exactly the same color, her face the same shape. Wonder Woman Lite,
Not so 'lite', Bruce thought now, remembering the stories Dick had
told him about Troia: her loyalty, her strength, her
history of lifetimes lived in tragedy. And it was her history, her familiarity
with Greek myth, for which Batman needed her now.
"Batman,"
she said simply.
He didn't
waste time. "Why would the Joker, dying of a fatal disease, travel to the
Greek Underworld?"
Donna pursed
her lips, thinking. "This is really Diana's area of expertise, but my first
impulse is to say he is going to the
A river? Ah, the Iliad. Achilles.
He would thank Alfred for his classical tutors later. "So
that he would become invulnerable against wounds or disease."
Achilles' mother had dipped him in the
Batman tried
to imagine the Joker, invulnerable. It would be disastrous. He needed to get to
the Underworld, to stop him.
"Right." Donna hesitated, then
added, "But you should really ask Diana about this. There might be a
different reason."
"She's
gone to Themyscira to talk to your sorceress about
breaking that spell you put on Green Lantern." Batman made his tone harsh,
letting her know in no uncertain terms what he had thought of the spell.
But Donna was
frowning, not cowering. "Diana hasn't gone to Themyscira.
I would feel it. In any case, Magala isn't there any
more." She tilted her head, regarded him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure
if I should tell you this, since Diana obviously didn't."
Batman's jaw
tightened. No, Diana hadn't told him. Dammit, he knew
something wasn't right, and he had let it go. "Tell me," he grated
out.
Donna seemed
to come to a decision, nodded. "All right. Magala's dead. She has been for quite some time, but she
had been replaced by Ariadne, another sorceress who
has always hated the Amazons. We found out just recently who she really was
during the civil war on Themyscira, which Ariadne started."
"Then
Diana is getting the spell reversal from Ariadne?"
Would probably have to fight it out of the sorceress, Batman
thought. But if anyone could, it would be Diana.
"No, Ariadne is dead, too. Fury ripped her heart out."
Donna tapped a fingernail against her teeth, considering. "That means
Diana would have to travel to the Underworld to ask Ariadne
about removing the spell from you." She frowned. "I wonder why she
didn't ask me to watch over her?"
"Why
would you have to watch over her?" He kept his expression blank. He was
seething.
Worry touched
her tone. "Because Diana enters the Underworld
spiritually, not physically. She doesn't have any powers down
there." She drew her eyebrows together. "And anything that happens to
her down there, happens to her in the physical world.
She gets hurt there, she gets hurt here. Usually, an Amazon will have a sister
or healer stay with her body to help tend any wounds that she incurs."
Batman leaned
back in his chair, steepled his fingertips. The Joker
was headed for, or already in, the Underworld. Diana was either there or on her
way, without powers. He knew she could handle herself in a fight, but she
didn't know the clown would be down there. The Joker would have an element of
surprise, something Batman knew to be very, very effective.
"The
Joker caught a flight to
Donna blew
out a long, frustrated breath of air. "You think I can fathom his
mind?" Batman didn't answer, simply waited. Donna rolled her eyes.
"He probably wants to enter the Underworld physically. That would support
the
"Can you
tell if Diana is there yet?"
Donna closed
her eyes, a look of concentration on her face. "No, not
yet. At least I don't think so. Our connection isn't perfect." She
glanced at something behind her, then back at the monitor. "Look, I'm
going to call our apartment, and see if she's there. That's probably where
she'll make the journey; it's a secure location for her body to remain. If she
doesn't answer, I'm flying home to check."
"I'll
meet you there." Batman stood. He had a feeling Diana wouldn't answer, and
even if she did, he needed to get there. He had to stop the Joker.
Donna shook
her head. "I don't think so, Batman. If Diana had wanted--"
"I'll
meet you there," Batman repeated, disconnected, then pulled out a new
costume to replace the shredded one. If Diana was still on this world, he would
go to the Underworld with her. He couldn't let the Joker swim the
And if Diana
was already down there, then Troia would have to
guide him. Either way, it looked like he was going to Hell.
Batman smiled
as he readied the small Batplane. Something about the
costume made his life seem much more dramatic than it was.
Hell. More likely, another dimension that the so called gods of myth had
accessed long ago. To Batman, the gods were more likely simply another
form of metahuman or alien, who received their powers
through the energies of their followers.
Powerful, yes. Immortal, maybe. Undefeatable, no. He'd seen too many 'gods' die to believe
in them, or whatever message they spouted.
Gods. He didn't know any. What he knew was that his parents had lain in
a gutter dying, and there had been no gods around to save them.
Now that was
hell.
***
He found the
two women in Diana's room; Diana was lying on her bed in full armor, Donna was
leaning over her, face pale.
"I felt
her go under when I was about halfway here. I don't think she landed in a happy
spot." Even as she spoke, a cut appeared on Diana's cheek and began to
bleed. "Oh, damn." Donna held a cloth against the wound, began
dressing it.
"What's
down there?" He had reviewed descriptions of the realm on his flight to
Donna smiled
grimly. "What isn't? Warlords fighting over territory with their armies,
roving packs of demons, the occasional monster or chimera."
"Is
there anywhere safe for her to go?"
"The
Elysian Fields, but she won't find Ariadne there. She
might find comrades, though. She will need to find Magala,
Antiope or a Bana-Mighdall,
at the very least. They're one of the few who know what Ariadne
looks like in her true form. Maybe Theseus."
"Will
she find her mother?"
Donna nodded.
"Maybe." She looked up at him. "What I
don't understand is how she isn't under the spell and you are. You still must
be, or she wouldn't need to have gone. Did she have any theories to that
end?"
Batman stared
down at Diana. How much more had she kept from him? And why?
"No theories that I know of," he said carefully. Best not to let Donna
know how uninformed he was. He took an educated guess. "Just that the
lasso had revealed she wasn't under the spell."
Donna
confirmed his assumption. "Yes. She must have tried it out on you,
too?"
Batman didn't
answer, let her think that was the case. Diana had
known for at least twelve hours that she wasn't under the spell, yet she had
let him go on thinking that she was. How had she broken it?
He would ask
her in a few minutes, he decided. He turned to Donna.
"How do
I join her?"
Donna shook
her head. "You would have to be very skilled at meditation, and--"
"I
am."
"--and
you have to believe in the Underworld. In the gods.
They are the anchor that lets you access the realm."
Batman looked
down at Diana again, her hands clasped around her bow, her sword, her lasso at
her side. "Can she be my anchor?"
Donna frowned
thoughtfully. "Maybe. That might work. You know
her well, have a physical connection with her, as a
comrade-in-arms and as a previous lover. You have an emotional connection to
her, through friendship, and whatever feelings for her the spell has created.
False or not, it might be enough to get you down there. Friends and lovers used
to go to the Underworld regularly for someone they'd lost in the myths."
She paused, glanced up at him. "Plus, since she was once a goddess, that might give you a better chance. We'll make
sure you have a physical connection here, too. Hold her hand or something, so
that your spirit will find hers more easily."
Batman
checked his gear. "Whatever I have on me will go with me?"
Donna opened
a chest at the end of Diana's bed. "Yes. Plus we'll need to get you some
other weapons, some food, things like that." She stood, closed the lid,
held up the leather bag she had taken from the chest. "Diana took one of these, put a bedroll and some food in there, so she
obviously thought she might be gone a few days. They've been magically treated
so that anyone can put food or other items in them here, and in the Underworld,
they will appear. It's important not to eat or drink anything down there that
isn't from your bags." Donna grinned. "Remember Persephone? You don't
want to be Hades' new queen." She slung the satchel at Batman. "She
must have known I would find her like this, and take care of her, but she didn't
tell me she was going." She sighed heavily. "I wish I knew why."
"A few days?" The more Donna spoke, the more irrational and
irresponsible Diana's actions seemed. Not only had she lied to Batman, she had
kept her going a secret from everyone who might help her.
"It's a
big place, and you never know where you'll land. I'll let Dick and Alfred know where you are." She shrugged at his stare, gave
him a once-over. "Okay, we need to get you some
weapons." She strode outside of the room; Batman followed. Donna ticked
off Diana's weapons on her fingers as she walked. "She took her lasso, of
course, and a sword, probably for fighting at close range, and a bow with a ton
of arrows, for things at long range. She also put on armor."
Batman looked
down at his suit, lined with kevlar. "I think my
costume will be fine for armor."
Donna nodded,
then said, "Yes, but you might want a shield, anyway. The warlords' armies
use arrows very proficiently." She stopped in front of a large doorway,
which the blueprints Bruce had perused when installing nullifiers had claimed
was to a closet, and turned to look at him. "There are no guns in here, of
course, but I don't think you use them anyway."
Heh. She might as well
just call him 'Bruce' and be done with it, Batman thought.
Donna opened
the door, said, "What kind of weapons can you use?"
Bruce smiled.
There wasn't much he hadn't trained with until he'd mastered it. "What do
you have?" he said, and stepped through the door. Definitely
not a closet. He looked up and down the walls and display cases of the
large room, and his grin widened. Diana. She had everything.
***
Diana yanked
her sword out of the demon, attempted to clean off its black blood from the
blade by wiping it on its scaly hide. It smelled like dung. She glanced
cautiously around her; the other demons lay still; now and again a leathery
wing fluttered in a death seizure.
Her arms
ached pleasantly; her sword was much heavier when she didn't have the strength
of Gaea to keep it aloft for long periods of time.
Her cheek itched, but it had stopped bleeding almost immediately. She was sure
that meant Donna had found her, was caring for her. Thank Hera.
Donna would be upset that Diana had gone without telling her; but her sister
would be furious if Diana had died because there was no one to care for her.
Diana grinned
at that. She wasn't going to die, and even if she did, the last thing she would
be worrying about then would be her sister's wrath. She imagined Donna coming
down to the Underworld to find her, and launching into a tirade about Diana's
irresponsibility.
A laugh
escaped her; she kicked aside a demon and started to resume her journey, the
acrid smell of the Underworld tingling in her nostrils. She was in her element.
This was what she was made for: fighting demons, going on a quest to remove a
spell from a handsome pr--Er, Bat.
Something
rustled behind her. A wing? She spun around, sword
ready, and her eyes widened in shock.
Batman,
crouched, staring hard at her, then looking around
him, at the pile of demon carcasses. She knew what he must think of what he
saw: the dark, almost black sand studded with boulders and stones, the steep
incline on which they stood, the bodies of the demons
above them, the long, shadowy plain below the foothills they were in. The
Underworld was dark, ugly.
He sniffed,
but said nothing. A crossbow was slung over his shoulder, and he held a
quarterstaff in his right hand. Both hers, she noted.
She was going
to kill Donna.
Maybe Batman, too. There was no doubt in her mind that he had
coerced her sister into this.
She sheathed
her sword. "I suppose there is no point to me saying that you need to go
back?" Not that he could.
"No."
She hadn't
thought so. She glanced up at the sky. Dark red.
"We need to get moving. Night is falling fast, and there won't be any lights
by which to see. These demons will be re-animated by then,
and hunting for us. We have to find shelter before then." She turned,
picked her way down the rocky slope, slipping now and again on the shifting
sand.
Batman fell
into step behind her; neither of them spoke. Diana looked ahead. Across the
plain was a towering mountain, the seat of Hades, god of the Underworld. She
judged the distance between here and there; at least another
day and a half of travel. She had been lucky she hadn't arrived in one
of the outlying realms, where it might have taken her weeks to trek to the this side of Hell.
She looked
back at Bruce and sighed. She hadn't counted on him. She frowned. Why was he
here? He obviously must have found out that Magala
was dead, and perhaps Donna told him about Ariadne, but that alone wouldn't have made him come.
She stopped
mid-stride, pointed at a cave on the side of the hill. "We'll stop there
for the night."
Batman
stepped up beside her. "How long does night last?"
"About
four hours." Diana jumped over a rock. "The demons can see in the
dark, but they can't really hear or smell anything. If we stay out of sight in
the cave, maybe block off the entrance, they'll leave us alone."
"The same ones that you killed." It wasn't a question.
"Yes,"
Diana said, reaching the cave entrance. "Nothing down here stays dead for
long." She stuck her head into the cave, then looked back at him and
grinned. "Except for us." The cave was
perfect: narrow entrance that could be easily defended, room to maneuver if
something managed to get in, and not too deep, so nothing could wait along the
corridor to ambush them. "Do you have a flare?"
He produced a
mini-flare from his utility belt, struck it, then
threw it into the cave. It illuminated the cracks and niches in the rock walls.
Nothing was hiding in them, nothing flew out. Perfect. She moved forward to
step more fully inside.
"Hold
on, Princess." Batman gripped her arm, and pointed at the cave floor.
Diana looked more closely. At a shadow. A moving shadow. The longer she looked at it, the more shape
it began to take, until she could make out the faint human outline. "It's
a shade," she said, and clarified for Batman's benefit. "A
lost soul. Like a ghost, and primarily from dishonorable suicides or
improper burials." She frowned. "Usually they can't get past the
gates of Hell, though. The only shades allowed within the Underworld are the
souls waiting to be reborn at the River Lethe. I wonder how it got here."
"I think
I might know," Batman said. Diana glanced at him. He knew something; he
had come down for a reason, and it wasn't for her. "I'll tell you once we
are settled and have secured the perimeter. Will it be safe with that in
here?"
Diana nodded.
"Shades don't interact with other spirits often--including us, since we
are in spiritual form, and just a physical manifestation of that form. They'll
notice humans who are in true physical form only."
They worked
quickly in the failing light; Batman set up traps to alert them to any movement
outside, Diana scanned the sky for demons while moving rocks to make the mouth
of the cave less obvious. With Batman's help, she rolled a large boulder in
front of the entrance to deter any rush attacks into the cave. The last bit of
light faded from the sky. She tucked her lasso inside the waist of her
breastplate to hide its glow, which would seem like a beacon in the utter
darkness.
Diana crawled
over the boulder into the cave, her armor clanking against the stone. She heard
the rustle of fabric as Batman climbed in after her. The interior of the cave
was completely black; there were no stars or moon to illuminate the outside,
and no hint of light or sound inside, aside from the noise of their own
movements and breathing.
She heard a
soft click, then a low chuckle. "What is it?" She stretched; the
muscles in her back were groaning from the strain she placed them under, first
fighting with the demons then pushing rocks around.
"It is
so dark here that even the night-vision lenses in the cowl are worthless. They
need at least some form of light to work." By the sound of his voice, he
was standing right next to her. She took a step back. Her actions earlier that
night still weighed heavily on her mind, and there was no need to tempt herself. Distance, as much as she could get in this hole,
would be the key.
She forced an
easy tone. "Batman's famous toys."
"Tools,"
he corrected.
"Even
the car? Wouldn't a tank be safer?" She couldn't resist teasing him. There
was a running bet in the JLA that the car was supposed to make up for something
Batman lacked. Although, she thought now, she could put those rumors to rest.
"I have
a tank, too," he said, and she laughed softly. "And speaking of toys,
Princess, I've seen your armory."
Diana backed
up against the cave wall, slid down to sit on the floor. "We should
probably eat and then each try to get two hours of
sleep while the other keeps watch." The sand by her leg shifted, she felt
the brush of his cape as he sat next to her. She caught a whiff of the cologne
that Bruce Wayne had used earlier. "I can smell Bruce Wayne's cologne on
you. Isn't that dangerous?"
"Probably. I usually make sure that I've cleaned it all
off before I put on the costume. Tonight, I didn't want to waste time after the
auction. It was a calculated risk that no one who had seen or smelled Bruce
Wayne at the auction would see Batman after it."
She heard the
crunch of an apple, reached into her own bag for some bread and cheese. He had
been at the auction longer than he'd needed to be because he was buying her
kiss, she thought. She didn't want to mention that. Not here, when she was less
than a foot away from him, in the dark. Better to talk about work.
"Any
word on the Joker before you left?"
"Yes."
He took another bite of apple; she envisioned his strong white teeth, his lips,
then shook her head, waited until he'd swallowed. "He's here."
"Here?"
she repeated blankly. Her human level hearing must be worse than she had
thought.
"In the Underworld."
"How?"
Batman
explained the conclusion he'd come to, about the stolen items, Medea, the plane tickets, and the
His voice was
grim. "The Joker leaves chaos in his wake, even down here. We'll find him
before he gets to the river."
An idea
occurred to Diana. "That chaos might work to our advantage. I always
intended to see Hades', but now we might also ask him to send us where the
Joker is. Lord Hades allows the Warlords to fight, but any other disturbance in
his realm is an annoyance to him." She took another bite. "Especially
if the Joker is the reason shades are creeping into the Underworld," she
said.
The contents
of Batman's satchel rustled as he looked for something in it. "That's what
I was thinking. He's careless enough to leave whatever object he used to get in
here lying around for anything else to use. I imagine that is how this shade
got in; the Joker probably left something open."
Diana nodded,
even though Batman couldn't see her, and yawned. "Right.
Unfortunately, shades travel very quickly, so it is hard to ascertain how far
the Joker is from here. Don't throw your apple core away," she warned.
"If something here eats it, they could access Earth." She pulled out
her bedroll, used it as a pillow. "You get first watch. Can you tell when
two hours have passed?"
"Yes."
She yawned
again, couldn't believe how tired she felt. "Wake me up after two,
then." She rolled onto her side. "Do you think the Joker has the golden
apple?" she asked, her voice sleepy.
"Get
some rest, Princess. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
She drifted
off almost immediately, barely felt it when Bruce draped his cape over her like
a blanket, didn't realize she murmured his name in her sleep.
When she
woke, she could see the pink sky outside the cave entrance. Batman crouched
next to the boulder. She sat up, preparing to reprimand him for letting her
sleep while he stayed awake, then heard it. Slithering.
Sword
unsheathed, she crept to the opposite side of the cave entrance from Batman,
looked out. Nothing. Bruce jerked his finger toward
the ceiling. Whatever it was hid on the hill above the cave
entrance. A pair of demons flew by, a hundred yards in the air. Diana
frowned.
"It's
not them. They don't think, they just attack," she whispered. "They
don't have the brains to make an ambush. If they knew we were here, they'd be
storming the entrance."
Batman looked
up at the ceiling, then out at the sky. "We'd be in a bad position if we
left the cave, not knowing where exactly it was, or even what it is." He
glanced at her thoughtfully. "What about bait?"
Diana shook
her head. "With my powers, I could run fast enough, but if we don't know
what it is..." She trailed off when Batman grinned.
He pointed out
at the flying demons, which were circling outside. "I meant them."
"Oh."
Diana looked at them, considered. "If we shot them down from here,
whatever it is might go after their bodies. Would it be far enough,
though?"
"If
nothing else, it'll let us see what we are up against."
Diana nodded.
"Okay then." She put her sword away, grabbed her bow from where she
had left it leaning against the cave wall. She notched an arrow, watched as
Batman loaded a bolt into the crossbow. "You take the right, I'll take the
left."
They waited
until the demons passed into their line of sight again, followed their flight, took aim. "Now," Diana said, and they let the
arrows fly. The demons shrieked and fell, hitting the ground with dull thuds.
The slithering changed to heavy footfalls; a shadow blocked the cave entrance,
then Diana and Bruce saw the creature, twenty feet tall, covered in blue
scales. Its long tail ended in a scorpion's stinger, from its chest grew two
long necks with spitting, hissing heads.
"I think
that's the Hydra. When you cut off one of its heads, two more grow in its
place." She slung the bow over her shoulder, prepared her things to go.
"Herakles defeated it during his labors, found
out that the stumps have to be cauterized so more heads don't grow. One of its heads is immortal, not that it matters down here. Its breath
is deadly." She stopped in the middle of picking up her bedroll, touched
Batman's cape wonderingly, then shook herself, threw it to him. "It's a
water creature, though. There must be water around here."
"I
thought you knew the Underworld well." He whisked the cape around his
shoulders and fastened it.
Diana tucked
loose hairs back into her braid, put on her helmet. "No one except Lord
Hades knows the Underworld well. It changes at his whim." She smiled
reassuringly at him. "But these are the winter months, so his wife is
here, and he's in a better mood than normal. We don't have to worry about him
suddenly creating a bottomless pit under our feet."
"How
encouraging," he said dryly. Diana grinned.
She looked
out of the cave again. The Hydra was leaving, heading to the right. "We'll
go the other way," she said. They might have to detour for an hour or so,
but better than running into the monster and trying to fight it.
They left a
few minutes later after downing a hurried breakfast, when the sound of the Hydra's footsteps were barely audible in the
distance.
***
Diana was
enjoying this, Batman realized. Another demon flew at them, claws extended; She shot an arrow through its eye with disturbing precision.
Her face was rigid with tension and concentration as she fired arrow after
arrow, but Batman could see the delight she was getting from it. Not from the
killing--if what they were doing could be called killing, since the demons
revived in a short time--but from the fight. There were no politics here, no
baby steps, no mincing around differing viewpoints and moral makeups; this was battle, pure and simple. No right or
wrong to be considered, no shades of gray. They had to kill the demons or be killed.
Batman cut
off a demon's head with Diana's sword. He had to admit he was enjoying it, too.
He'd much rather have the Joker in his hands and in jail, would rather be in Gotham than fighting demons in the Greek Underworld, but he
couldn't ignore the pleasure derived from letting his body do what he had
trained it to do, without worrying about hurting bystanders, or accidentally
killing a criminal. Or deliberately killing one. He
felt he should be concerned about that, too; killing these demons might make
him more likely to strike a murderous blow without thinking about it, if the
action became too normal to him, but in this realm, those concerns seemed out
of place.
Diana lowered
her bow, her eyes a fiery blue. Her gaze skimmed the corpses lying around them.
"I think that is all of them. For now."
Bruce stuck
her sword upright in the sand, pulled some high tension wire from his belt.
"Would it slow them down if we tied them?"
"It
should," Diana said.
Bending over
the demon he had just beheaded, he looped the thin wire around its hands and
feet, then pulled it tight, breathing through his
mouth. The demons reminded him of a cross between a monkey, hyena and vulture,
and they smelled like death.
"They
will probably panic when they realize they are tied," Diana spoke from
where she was binding another creature. "They don't have the brains to
reason their way out of this; we might actually make it to Hades' palace before
they release themselves." She stood, brushed a stray hair out of her eyes.
"There isn't any shelter tonight; we will be crossing the asphodel fields.
No caves. We'll hear them coming if they do escape."
Diana had
outlined her plan to him earlier: she was going to ask Hades to let her
confront Ariadne, find out the counterspell,
then tell Hades they would rid the Underworld of the Joker if he would allow
them transport to the
The demon he
was tying twitched; he speared it with the sword, and frowned. Diana would have
had to face these things by herself, and had known that when she made plans to
travel here. She shouldn't have come alone. He had to admire her determination
and courage, even if he didn't like that she had kept the knowledge from him.
His mouth
twitched. Most of the other JLAers probably said the
same things about him on a daily basis. In some ways, he and Diana were very
much alike.
Except, he
remembered, she had broken the spell, and he hadn't. He looked up at her, where
she was holding a demon's hands together in preparation to secure them.
"You are no longer under the spell, Diana."
She hesitated
for an instant, then continued trussing the demon.
"No," she said. "I'm not." She finished, stood.
He looked
around. That had been the last demon. "How?"
Diana looked
off into the horizon. "We should go."
Gritting his
teeth, he replied, "We'll talk on the way."
Batman kept
her sword; it had been more handy than the staff he'd
chosen before he realized he'd be required to use lethal force. She gave him
the scabbard, shouldered her gear, and began walking toward the towering figure
of Hades' palace.
He pushed his
cowl back from his face, wiped sweat from his brow with his cape. He kept
stride with her easily, despite her long steps and apparent attempt to keep a
pace that would prohibit conversation. "Diana?"
She stopped,
swung around to face him, looked him in the eyes.
"Bruce, I don't want to lie to you. I'm a miserable liar, but the truth at
this time would be burdensome to you. Please, trust me," she beseeched.
"Trust me and know that what happened is nothing that I did, or an action
I performed that you could have repeated. I would not keep that from you."
She broke eye contact, looked toward Hades' mountain. "Although I doubt it
will be kept from you long," she muttered sadly.
He frowned.
"Is this truth going to endanger you, Diana?" Her last words hinted
that she dreaded something that would happen at the palace. That would explain
her secrecy, her desire to travel alone. If she had to sacrifice something for
the counterspell, or do something that would imperil
her associates, her loyalty would make her tread this journey alone. She had
done so before, when a prophecy foretold the death of the JLA. She had taken
their place, disabled their ability to help her, prepared to sacrifice herself.
And she had died, he remembered. For an instant.
He wouldn't
let her do it again. Compared to letting her sacrifice herself, the spell was
preferable. Here, without her powers to aid her, he would have the advantage
should he be forced to physically stop her. Although, he told himself, she had
the advantage of knowledge.
She was
shaking her head. "No danger. Actually, I find this truth to be
beautiful." Her eyes glowed in the diffused light of the Underworld.
"But I know that you would not."
"You do
not give me the chance to decide that for myself." His voice was harsh.
Hers was
gentle. She reached up, placed her hand against his cheek. "No, I don't. Because you've already decided, Bruce. This is something
that you've told me before." Her palm scraped against his whisker rough
jaw when she removed her hand. She smiled, and turned, started walking again.
His brow
furrowed. What was he supposed to say to that? He caught up with her, tried to
think of something he'd told her was a burden. But when?
And under what circumstances had he said it? "You're a stubborn woman,
Diana."
She grinned.
"Thank you."
"I could
make you tell me," he growled, disgruntled, but not angry. He did trust
her.
"With Bat-torture techniques?" She shot him an
amused glance.
He was half
considering it. "No, by being Bruce Wayne for the rest
of this trip."
She laughed.
"If you mean the Bruce Wayne from the charity auction or your other public
appearances, I'd consider that torture. I like the other one, though."
He raised an
eyebrow. "The other one? You actually like the
Bat?" He was well aware that his darker personality was hardly friendly.
She examined
the sky's color, looked for more demons. "No, I understand the Bat, and
respect him, like to work with him. But I mean the other Bruce Wayne." She
smiled. "And now I'm picking up your habit of referring to these things as
if they aren't you."
He stared at
her. "Diana, there's Bruce Wayne and Batman. Not three."
She stopped
at pointed at a gray, wavering line in the distance. "That's the asphodel.
We're making good time, unless he's changed things completely." She turned
to him. "Which one are you? Bruce Wayne or Batman?"
She had asked
him that before. "Both."
"That's
what you said earlier, but I disagree. I don't accept that postmodern
schizophrenia idea that you can be two or three people in different roles
without being a whole individual." She resumed walking.
Behind her
back, Batman grinned. The Princess didn't accept something, so therefore it
must not be true. He'd plowed through Frederic Jameson's essays about
postmodern schizophrenia before, not to examine himself but to gain further
insight into criminal behavior. Villains, at times, were snobs, and conducted
themselves according to one critical theory or another. It was no surprise that
Diana, who came from a culture rooted in ancient beliefs, would have a quibble
or two with postmodernism.
He was
curious about her opinion of his personality, though. And, he thought, there
was something to be said about disagreeing with Diana, even if he wasn't
convinced she was wrong; it was entertaining, at the very least. "Then
what is your theory, Princess?"
"That
there is something in between the Bat and Bruce Wayne, and that's what you
really are." She reached into her bag, pulled out a bagel, and smiled.
"Donna must have refilled our supplies. When she runs out of food in the
apartment, though, we will probably get take-out Chinese food and pizza stuffed
in here."
Batman
grimaced. Hopefully they'd be back before it came to that. "What's in
between?"
Diana frowned
thoughtfully. "Simply 'Bruce' would be the best way to put it. Have you
ever notice that you always add the '
He nodded. It
was necessary for distance between the Bat and Bruce Wayne. It made his
alter-ego seem less personal, and therefore he'd be less inclined to mix the
two up in a public setting. Protecting his identity was imperative. "Why
do you think
She shot him
a disbelieving glance. "You know he is, because you allow imperfections in
him. They are there so that you can also remain Batman, but they lend
"How so?" He knew, but hearing it from her was
fascinating.
"Bruce
Wayne breaks women's hearts so that the Batman can save their lives. Bruce
Wayne is lazy so that Batman can work. He's indulgent so that you can be alone,
be without excess. Batman couldn't exist without Bruce Wayne."
"That's
true, but the opposite is also." He knew that with certainty. When Bane
had broken his back, he'd been forced to face life without the Bat. He wouldn't
accept it, had needed to be Batman.
She tilted
her head in acknowledgment. "Perhaps. I am more
inclined to believe, however, that without Batman Bruce Wayne would simply
function differently. He would be what bridges the Bat and Bruce Wayne now, the
in-between."
"The simply Bruce." He wondered if this was how she
thought of herself. Simply Diana between the Wonder Woman,
Princess and ambassador. It would make sense that she applied her
theories about herself to others.
"Exactly. Bruce Wayne persuades,
Batman forces. Bruce Wayne adopted Dick, became a father to him. Batman uses
him as a sidekick in his mission. Bruce Wayne allows himself to love, but
Batman won't allow himself to be loved. Bruce Wayne and Batman are opposites in
so many ways; something has to stand between them. Something has to be the
individual, be the core. That's the simply Bruce." She regarded him, in
his costume but not his mask. "I think you might be him right now."
He looked
down at himself. "And you think that both Batman and Bruce Wayne have
grown from this Bruce?"
"Yes,
they are both a part of the deeper man, who functions through them."
He smiled.
"You sound like Freud. Id, ego, superego. Bruce,
Bruce Wayne, Batman. So, what is simply Bruce?"
She curled
her lip. "I hate Freud." She would, Batman thought. Diana continued.
"I know you think he is a scared young boy, and yes, that boy is why you
became Batman and Bruce Wayne, but I also think that boy would have grown up by
now to stand for something else: Justice." She glanced at him from the
corner of her eye. "You think I'm insane."
He knew
insane. "No, I think you are being Diana." She was idealistic--it was
just like her to boil someone's personality down to one virtue. A virtue with a capital letter. "I think there's more
to it than that, however."
She snorted.
"Of course there is. Just like there is more to me than Truth."
"The
princess, Wonder Woman, the amazon, the ambassador,
simply Diana, and so on?" He hid a smile. He had been right, she did think
of herself the same way she thought of him.
"Yes,"
she said, then muttered, "but no longer a
princess, and barely even Wonder Woman."
He heard her,
decided not to comment. He would not be able to convince her she was Wonder
Woman if she doubted it, just as he knew no one could convince him he was not
Batman.
"And
Diana was
laughing. "You can't stand that I call him 'Kal,'
can you? You think it takes away from his humanity," she said, and shook
her head. "But
She did see
it. "Then why call him Kal?" She was right,
he didn't like the name. It seemed equivalent to a pet name for Superman,
reminded him of socialites who called him 'Brucie.'
She looked at
him, her stride not faltering for a second. "Very simply, it's my way of
not calling him Superman. He's a friend, and in public I call him by a more
personal name. Since I work with him so often as Superman, I simply have come
to think of him as Kal rather than Clark."
Batman didn't
reply. She had been honest, but he also knew there was more to it than that. Kal represented something she could be with;
Diana
continued, oblivious to his thoughts, "And before you ask,
Batman
glanced up at the darkening sky. Red, like Superman's cape.
The piece of Wonder Woman's uniform that covered her heart.
His own blood.
It would be
night soon.
***
The full moon
had risen above them, shedding silvery light on the ghostly, pallid asphodel
flowers. Selene, the moon goddess, descended into the
Underworld once a month during Earth's new moon, in the form of Hecate, Goddess of the Dark of the Moon. She was also the
Goddess of the Crossways, to whom the Joker would have made sacrifices before
he could enter the dark realm. If Hecate was at
Hades' palace, she would tell him of the clown's crossing, and Hades' could
pass the information on to Diana. It would, she thought, give them more
certainty as to where and when the Joker had entered the Underworld.
She turned,
looking at Batman, who was examining one of the flowers with a small
flashlight. By her calculations, he hadn't slept in three days. She was
exhausted just from that day's travel; she could imagine how tired he must be.
"We'll stop here for night. If we cross these fields under the moon, we'll
be an obvious target to any creature roaming tonight. At least on the soil, we
won't stand out as sharply."
Batman looked
up. "And the demons?"
"If they
manage to break their bonds, they would be a problem," she said. The
demons sight didn't depend on contrast and moonlight. They sensed the heat of
their victims. "Unless your cape is lined against
infra-red detection."
"
Diana smiled
back, considering the best course of action. Batman needed sleep--that was her
first priority. Her concern for his well-being aside, he wouldn't be as sharp
or function as well without sleep. "We'll roll out the bedrolls, then cover ourselves with your cape. That will provide
maximum visual camouflage because of the darkness of the cape, and IR camo from the air against the demons. I'll keep
watch."
"For two
hours."
"My two
hours will match yours from last night."
Bruce
frowned. "Diana, this is not a tit for tat situation. My body is
accustomed to fatigue. Yours isn't."
"I've
gotten more sleep in the last twenty four hours than you have had in seventy
two, Bruce." Then added: "And don't think just because I usually have
powers that I don't experience fatigue. My Amazonian trainers were well aware
of my capabilities, and made me work accordingly and in proportion to a typical
Amazon. In any case, I can rest my body fully and remain alert." Every
warrior knew how to take rest where she could find it.
Bruce stared
at her, then seemed to come to a decision and detached the cowl from his cape.
"You'll need this if you are keeping watch, then."
Diana caught
the mask, a little surprised by his easy capitulation. "Don't agree now
and then wake in two hours, Bruce. Get four hours of sleep."
He smiled a
little. "Your distrust of me is showing, Princess."
"So are
the bags under your eyes, Batman," she replied. "And it's not
distrust, it's experience. You do what you
think is best." She spread out her bedroll, patted it down.
He did the
same, then took off his cape. "Because I'm always
right," he said, and a startled laugh escaped her. She hadn't expected
self-deprecating humor from him, not when it was about the Batman, anyway. Bruce Wayne, yes. But she'd never heard him poke fun at his
darker image.
Unless, of course, he was serious. For some reason, that
seemed even funnier to her. She chuckled, imagining the arrogance of someone
who believed he was always right. Either way, whether he'd meant it or not, she
couldn't deny that in most cases, he really was right.
He handed her
the cape, then lay down on his bedroll, linking his hands behind his head. She
pulled on the cowl, then wrapped the cape around herself and sat down,
verifying that it hid her body entirely. She draped the excess material of the
cape over him, making sure that his head--the only
part of his body not protected with the IR repressing uniform--was covered. It
would be slightly stuffy for him, but better than leaving his head exposed.
She could
feel his breath against her leg under the cape; it was steady, even. He
probably had the ability to fall asleep at an instant's notice, she mused, much
like she was able, and many of the warriors that she knew. It would be a light
sleep, so that if he needed to wake quickly he could, but a sleep nonetheless.
She waited,
shifting her body occasionally so that her limbs would not go numb. The night
was silent. Beside her, Bruce slept. She wondered what he looked like while
sleeping; she'd seen him unconscious before, but not asleep. Would
his face be calm, relaxed? Or tortured by dark thoughts and dreams?
Her own
dreams had been twisted lately. Dreams of the war, of her
mother, dying. Of saying time and again the last words she was certain
her mother had heard. Not words of comfort and love, but words of condemnation,
disapproval. She tilted her head, looked up at the night sky. The moon, no stars. Down here, one would never realize there
were other suns, supporting other worlds. Down here, the world of life barely
seemed to be a consideration at all.
Hippolyta would be in the Elysian Fields, Diana was certain. She
had been, without a doubt, one of the greatest heroes the Greeks had ever seen.
She would be with her lost Amazon sisters, Odysseus, Jason, Achilles.
She would be, Diana thought, happy. The words of her selfish daughter would not
give her pause in
Or so Diana
prayed.
Diana would
meet her mother in the Elysian Fields when death finally took her, Diana knew.
Still, she hoped that the path to the Joker would lead them through the Elysian
Fields, so that she could make sure that her mother knew what Diana really
felt. So that she could take back her last words, replace them with words of
love.
She looked
down at Bruce's cape covered form. He'd never had the opportunity of another
chance with his parents. Their circumstances were different--she regretted what
had been said, he regretted what hadn't been done, the years without his
family--but no matter the circumstances, she knew she was lucky for even the
smallest chance of seeing her parent after death.
Even if it
meant that he would be a different man, that she would never have met or worked
with him, fell in love with him, she wished he'd had that chance.
The moon,
which had hovered over Hades' palace most of the night, finally began its
descent. Hecate returning to Earth, becoming Selene once
more. The sky reddened, then turned pink. She
swept the cape from Bruce's face, touched his shoulder, but his eyes were
already open. She wondered if he had slept at all, or, like her, just rested.
He sat up, stretched,
then methodically checked the compartments on his
belt, as if verifying nothing had slipped out during the night. She admired his
discipline, his precision. He rivaled most of her Amazon sisters in his
constant readiness for battle.
They ate a
silent breakfast on the move, each content with his or
her own thoughts. The asphodel flowers, petals closed under the sunless sky,
were eerily still; the Underworld had no wind to make them sway and dance. The
seemed a dread parody of the colorful flowers on Earth, with their transparent
stalks and gray petals. They reminded Diana of a scene from The Wizard of Oz,
one of the first films she had seen when she'd entered Patriarch's World, in
which Dorothy fell asleep in a field of poppies. And if she was Dorothy, she
thought now, would that make Batman the Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion, or the Tin
Man? The Wizard? Or, she grinned, Toto?
And that
would make the Joker the Wicked Witch, she supposed. Unless Ariadne had claimed that title. Either way, it would
take more than a bucket of water for she and Bruce to
complete their journey.
Hades'
mountain was closer now; they only had an hour or so of their hike remaining.
Not really a mountain, Hades' had built a palace in a replica of
Diana had no
illusions about her gods; she'd been one of them, seen them in their true
characters. They could be greedy and thoughtless, yet also generous and kind.
They were, Diana knew, more human than they would ever admit, and more inhumane
than they would ever realize. She slid a glance toward Bruce, who was eyeing
the palace as if memorizing and mapping its form. She didn't blame him for his
disdain of her gods; to him, they were much more powerful and less responsible
than Superman, or Captain Marvel, or herself. If she or Superman had displayed
the destructive behaviors of her gods, Batman would have taken them out long
ago, friendship be damned.
But they had
also created the Amazons and herself, given her life and purpose; to fight
evil, to be their champion, to promote peace and prosperity. Despite their
pettiness, they deserved her thanks and fealty; much in the same way a daughter
still loved a selfish parent.
"How
long will it take us to get the information that we need?" Batman said.
"I think
that Hades' will receive us quickly; it might take a day, or a day and a
half." Which, Diana decided, was not so bad.
Twenty-four hours here was one fourth of a day on Earth. They wouldn't lose
much time. To Donna, who was back in
"Will
the Joker have made it to the
If he had
made it at all, Diana thought. He might have run into the same demons and
variety of monsters that they had. "I don't know," she said.
"We'll have a better idea when we find out where he entered the
realm."
"Will
Hades fulfill our requests?" Batman smiled. "We won't have to dance
and sing or play a lyre, will we?"
Diana
grinned. "Worried about your image?" She shook her head. "My
history with Lord Hades has been rocky at best; however, I am a friend of Lady
Persephone." She tilted her head, considered him carefully. "You must
have brushed up on your Greek myths before you left. Orpheus
and his lyre."
"Briefly. Enough to know that I don't want to end up
like him."
Diana
chuckled. "Because he failed in his mission to the
Underworld or because of his ultimate end?" Traveling to the
Underworld to get his wife, Eurydice, Orpheus had
played his lyre for Hades, then failed to trust the god's word and lost the
chance to bring his wife back to life. While mourning for
her, the musician had taken up with a group of young, nubile boys, then been
torn apart by the boys' jealous wives on a night of Dionysus' feasting.
Bruce raised
an eyebrow. "Both. Dick and Robin will remain safe from me."
Diana burst
out laughing. When she could breathe again, she told him tales of more
successful forays to the Underworld. She recited them poetically, in the old
style, just as she would nearing the end of a journey with her Amazon sisters,
when there was no need for silence; she only made it through two before they
reached the gates of Hades' palace.
The gates
were heavy, with ornate scrollwork and enormous locks. Two guards, with
leathery wings and an array of weapons, blocked their entrance; a porter,
speaking ancient Greek, bid them to state their intentions.
Diana saw
Bruce insert a JLA translator into his ear before she replied in the same
language. "I am Diana of the Amazons, champion of the Olympian gods,
seeking an audience with my Lord Hades."
The porter
peered suspiciously through empty eye sockets at Batman, who had replaced his
cowl and mask a mile back. "And your companion?"
"He is
the Batman, the Dark Knight of Earth, defender and champion of
The porter
looked them up and down, then nodded and said, "Very well. I will report
and return with Lord Hades' reply. Wait here." With a click of his heels
he disappeared behind the gate.
She looked at
Batman.
The Dark Knight of Earth? he mouthed
the words to her.
She shrugged.
"Better than 'Bruce Wayne, Entrepreneur and Womanizer,'" she said, her voice low.
"Better than 'Simply Bruce?'" His bland expression
belied the humor in his voice.
"Nothing's
better than him," she said, then turned her back on him as the porter
returned.
He motioned
for the guards to throw the gates open, then bowed
obsequiously. "Lord Hades welcomes you to his palace, Lady Diana and
Master Batman. He regrets that he is unavailable to receive you at this moment,
and urges that you rest and refresh yourselves until he summons you."
Diana smiled a little. That sounded more like Persephone than Hades. "Will
you require one room or two?"
"One,"
Diana said firmly. She wanted there to be no chance of being separated from
Batman. His slight nod was an indication that he agreed. They followed the
porter past room after room of banquet halls and parlors, up too many flights
of stairs to count, encountering a variety of humans, creatures and different
varieties of demons, who regarded the two living humans with varying
expressions of disgust, interest and indifference. She noted that Batman held
two batarangs in his hand, and hid a smile. Always prepared, always paranoid. She had her own hand on
the hilt of her sword.
Their room
was almost as large as her apartment in
Diana let out
a huge breath, flopped back onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. Batman remained
by the door, setting, she realized, a trap should anything force its way in.
She grinned up at the ceiling, then frowned. Above the
bed was a painting of Icarus falling from the sky.
The artist had caught the boy's surprise, panic and dread as he lost control,
lost his life.
Not the most
uplifting sight.
She sat up.
Batman was examining the rest of the room, checking the windows, the doors to
the columned balcony, the corners and crannies. He even, she realized with a
small giggle, tapped on a statue of Aphrodite to make sure that it was marble,
not some kind of posing creature. Finally, as if he was satisfied with the
room's security, he pushed back his cowl and looked out one of the windows.
She began
removing her armor, intending to take advantage of the bath.
Bruce glanced
at her when her breastplate thudded against the rug, then turned back to the
window. "The view is different than it really is outside."
Diana
shimmied out of her plated metal skirt, slid off her boots, and joined him at
the window. Instead of black sand and fields of asphodel, Hades had created the
illusion of a lush paradise for the palace dwellers. Waterfalls abounded,
colorful birds soared the skies. Even as they watched,
however, it shifted to a desert oasis.
"Eternity
is a long time," Diana said. "Especially if you
have only one thing at which to look." She watched with him for a
few minutes longer, then turned away. "I'm going
to bathe. I stink like a Minotaur's den."
Batman
continued to stare out of the window as she stripped off the remainder of her
uniform and climbed into the tub; she groaned in pleasure as the heat sank into
her tired muscles. She closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the water soak
her hair, feeling the grit of travel wash away. She let out a sigh of
contentment.
Bruce
chuckled; she opened her eyes to find him sitting on the bed, removing his
boots. He had already taken off the cape and top of his body armor, leaving him
in a white undershirt and uniform bottoms. "Reminder to self to update
Protocols," he said. "Wonder Woman's real weakness is a hot bath."
And men who
work in caves and have bodies like him, she added silently, but replied,
"Amazons know where the pleasures of life lay. Hot baths
and thick steaks." She dunked her head, came up and wiped water
from her eyes. "And beating the hell out of anyone who
dares cross us."
He kicked off
his other boot. She hoped his pants would be next, but he leaned back against
the pillows instead. "How long before we'll be called?"
"At least a couple of hours. You can get some
sleep if you like," she said, but he was shaking his head.
"I'm
fine. I'll relax, but no sleep."
A knock
sounded at the door. "The food," Diana said. "We can't eat any,
but it would be rude to refuse it." They didn't want to offend their host
by rejecting his hospitality.
He nodded,
then stood, grabbed her sword from where she'd dropped it, and carefully opened
the door. The servant bustled in and out, after setting the heavy tray on a low
table. Diana sniffed, then sighed. "That smells
much better than what Donna has been giving us."
Bruce
examined the contents, and grinned. "One of your
pleasures. Thick steaks."
Diana
pretended to whimper, and sank deeper into the water. "At least I have my
hot bath." She lifted a foot out of the water, wiggled her toes.
"Will you be joining me?" she asked before it occurred to her that
she shouldn't. The tub was huge, and Amazons frequently bathed together. It was
a social experience for her, nothing sexual implied or attached.
Not that she
had ever asked Superman, Green Lantern, or any of her other male comrades to
join her in a tub, she thought, and grimaced. She knew there were differences
in Man's World, had always remembered to keep her habits on Themyscira
from spilling over into her life in
"And you
call me a rakish seducer, a womanizer," Bruce said good-naturedly.
"I'll wait my turn, Princess."
Disappointment
battled with relief that he hadn't thought she was trying to seduce him again.
Not that seducing him sounded so awful, she thought, watching him through
lowered lashes. Just that she knew he wouldn't appreciate her efforts.
She smiled
mischievously and began soaping her hair. There was something to be said for
the days when Amazons took what they wanted, and who they wanted. Progress had
a lot for which to answer.
***
He finally
knew what the poets meant when they spoke of 'terrible beauty.'
Persephone's
radiance made him want to close his eyes, to protect himself from her gaze. He
considered, for a moment, lowering the torch shields of his cowl against the
sight of her, but he knew it wasn't actual light that made his eyes and brain
hurt. He glanced at Diana, and wondered if the goddess affected her the same
way.
She knelt
before Hades' and Persephone's thrones, dressed in a sweeping white gown that
she had found in the room. Batman remained standing. Diana had not suggested he
change his own uniform, for which he was grateful. When Diana spoke, her tone
was formal, never hinting at a familiarity with the gods in front of her.
"Lord
Hades, you have honored us with your attention. We have traveled through Your
Majesty's realm, seeking your advice and help; which, in your wisdom and great
power, only you can provide."
Hades nodded
slightly, then looked at Batman. Bruce remained
silent. He hated this; waiting, dependent upon the will of a bad-tempered,
too-powerful 'god'. Diana stood.
Hades voice
thrummed through Bruce's body. "And your
companion?"
"The Dark Knight of
Hades leaned
forward. "Your companion looks as though he belongs in my realm; indeed,
his heart is such that I would not hesitate to name him one of my own
warlords." The god sat back in his chair. "But I feel the disdain you
have for me, Dark Knight. I would prefer that you show it openly." Hades
waved his hand; Bruce's mask and cowl disappeared. Batman said nothing, did nothing. "Do not assume to hide yourself from me,
mortal." He met Batman's eyes, tried to stare him down.
The room was
silent for several interminable minutes. Finally, Hades looked away and
commanded, "Tell me your request, Diana of the Amazons." Batman
detected the slight relief in Diana's posture. She hadn't been as positive of
Hades as she had seemed.
"My
lord, the long-time deceiver of the Amazons, Ariadne,
has recently entered your realm. Before she crossed, she took the form of the
great sorceress, Magala, friend to the Amazons and
the gods. In that form, she placed an enchantment on me and my companion. I
request that you bring her here, so that we might gain from her the knowledge
to release the spell."
"Why
should I inconvenience myself with your mortal concerns, Amazon?"
Batman's
mouth tightened. He hated this even more, hated to see her prostrate herself
before this arrogant scum. He felt Persephone's eyes on him, kept his face
expressionless.
"My
lord, I have served as the champion of the Olympians willingly, with great
reverence and honor to you and your siblings. I recently fought alongside you,
reclaiming the glory of
Hades tapped
his fingers together; it sounded like the beating of drums. "You ask many
things, Amazon. Most recently, to see your mother."
Batman
stepped forward; without taking her eyes from Hades, Diana motioned for him to
stop. "Indeed, my lord, I entreated your honored niece, the Lady Artemis,
to give me a moment with my mother. In her infinite
wisdom, she did not grant my request."
"Then
why should I?"
Diana played
what Batman saw as their trump card. "Because, my lord,
my companion and I would rid your realm of the mortal scourge known as the
Joker."
Hades
frowned. Silence stretched across the room once more, broken, after a few
moments, by an exasperated Persephone. "By Gaea,
husband, you've been pondering for days the best way to rid ourselves of that
mortal; bring the witch here."
Hades glanced
at his wife, smiled slightly. "Very well."
Ariadne appeared before him, her back to Diana and Bruce. He
could see that wherever she'd come from, it hadn't been pleasant. Her clothes
her torn and lined with soot, her skin cracked and peeling.
She saw
Hades, fell to her knees. "My lord! I do not know
why you have seen fit to remove me from Tartarus, but
I submit myself to you. I am your humble servant."
Hades' voice
was cold. "You are my humble servant in Tartarus
as well, witch. Stand," he commanded. Ariadne
did, looking behind her as she complied. She saw Diana and frowned. When she
saw Batman, a pleased, calculating light entered her eyes. Hades continued.
"Ariadne, you have placed a spell upon the
champion of the Olympian gods. Explain yourself."
"Yes,
Lord Hades." She took a deep breath. "The Amazons have always held me
in hate, my lord, accuse me of murdering the sister of
Queen Hippolyta, Antiope.
The truth is, my lord, Antiope was a usurper who laid
claim to a man who had already promised himself to me. I loved Theseus, Lord Hades. I killed Antiope
so that I could recover my rightful place at his side."
Murder still,
Batman thought. Hardly justifiable. But Hades nodded. "And the spell?"
As if sensing her story had swayed things her way with Hades, Ariadne's voice became more beseeching still. "My Lord, for
thousands of years the Amazons spoke ill of me, for something I had done in the
name of love. They held their ideals of peace and love, yet they despised me
for loving Theseus. I devised the spell as a way of
making them learn about love for a man. I thought if Diana, champion of the
Amazons, would fall in love with a man, feel the despair of loving someone who
would not have her, she might finally know my pain, and clear my name." Ariadne looked at Diana, smiled. "And, my lord, if I
may add, there is no need to remove the spell from the Amazon. She has broken
it already by falling in love with this mortal."
Bruce looked
sharply at Diana.
So did Hades
and Persephone. "Is this true, Diana?" the goddess asked.
She didn't
glance at Bruce. "Yes, my lady." She stepped forward. "But the
spell has yet to be removed from my companion, as he does not love me. It is a
false desire he feels, Lord Hades. He has had no part in the history of the
Amazons and this witch, and does not deserved this
punishment."
Ariadne laughed. "And now you know, Diana, this pain.
Batman's reaction tells me that you had not told him, were too ashamed of your
love." Batman fought the dreadful exhilaration that swept through him. Ariadne didn't understand Diana, he thought. She hadn't hid
her love out of shame, but to save him from being conflicted about her
feelings. Diana would never think of love with shame. What had she said? I
find it to be beautiful.
Ariadne was continuing. "You confided in me--in your dear Magala--following your encounter with this one and the
Superman in your damned invisible craft. I sensed then your feelings, Amazon,
that despite your dream with Superman, you had found your true match in this
Dark Knight, he who stood for the truth as you did,
who you believed had the same core of strength, loyalty and honor as you do,
even if his approach was darker than yours. He made you face your truths in
that dream. But you also knew he would never feel the same, so you hid your
feelings even from yourself. And so I planned, and waited." She turned
back to Hades. "My lord, what is done is done. I can not remove the
effects of the spell from the Amazon; I can not erase her love. I have
accomplished what I wanted. I can, if you wish, remove the spell from the
other."
Diana kneeled
again before Batman could stop her. He wouldn't have her subject herself to
this for him. She shouldn't have to kneel for him. He would find a way to break
the damn spell without selfish gods and murdering witches. "Please, my
lord. Let her remove the spell," she pleaded.
Hades
considered, said finally, "Very well."
Ariadne turned to Batman, a triumphant smile on her face, lifted
her arms, said words his translator could not interpret. She froze suddenly,
began laughing. "This one, too, has broken the spell, Lord Hades."
Diana turned to Bruce, disbelief in her eyes. "I did not see it before,
because he has hidden it even from himself. Oh, this is better than I'd ever
dreamed, Amazon. Greater pain than loving someone who does not love you, is loving someone who loves you in return, but will never
let himself be with you. Forever separated."
Diana's lips
thinned with anger. "You lie, witch." She turned to Hades. "May
I use my lasso, force the truth and the spell from
her, my lord?"
Batman knew,
even before Hades denied the request, that the god's pride would never let him
consider that Ariadne had lied to him. Which she must have done.
He was not in
love.
Their visit
had not been for nothing, however, there was still the
Joker. They would find a way to break the spell elsewhere.
Because, he
told himself again, he was not in love. He glanced at Diana; she was looking at
him with concern, regret.
Sadness.
He hardened
himself against that look, watched at Hades blinked Ariadne
away and stood, holding out his hand to his wife.
"Let's
go to dinner, shall we? We'll discuss your plans to capture this Joker."
***
How they were
going to discuss it, Batman didn't know. The table at which they sat was easily
five times longer than the longest in Wayne Manor, and every seat was taken. At
one end, Diana sat to Hades' right. At the other, Batman was at Persephone's
right hand. In front of both Bruce and Diana sat their dinner plates,
untouched.
He kept his
eyes on Diana; she returned his gaze often, when the god did not command her
attention. The glances she sent him were probably intended to be reassuring, he
thought. He could read her well enough, however, to tell that she was furious.
And she was
in love with him. He could barely comprehend it, wouldn't even have believed it
had she not confirmed it herself.
"He
goads her endlessly, my husband does."
Bruce turned,
tried to look at Persephone, ended up staring at her shoulder. She gave him a
headache. He noted that her own plate was untouched.
She saw where
he glanced, smiled. "I, like you, do not eat in the Underworld."
He knew the
myth. She had eaten pomegranate seeds, sealed her fate that she must spend
several months of the year with her husband. "You are already bound to
this realm," he stated carefully. With solicitous responses, he might be
able to get the information he needed from her about the Joker. He doubted that
at the other end of the table Hades was being forthcoming.
Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw her smile sadly. "Bound, yes.
I would not give him reason to make my stay longer, however." She smelled
of wildflowers and freshly turned earth. "But do not misunderstand me,
Dark Knight, I love my husband. But this darkness is no place for me." She
nodded her head at Diana. "That one, she is stronger, better suited to
this kind of life. She can withstand the darkness, without making it a part of
herself. And, if she does take some into herself, it only makes her inner
strength grow."
He realized
that the goddess was matchmaking and hid a smile.
Hades' voice
roared through the hall suddenly. "My guests! The
Amazon has agreed to entertain us with some poetry." Beside him, Diana
stood, mouth set, eyes flashing.
Beside
Batman, Persephone was shaking her head. "He will try to embarrass her,
but he doesn't understand her any more than Ariadne
did." She looked at Bruce. "I call her friend, as you do. And I, like
you, am wishing now that she would set Hades in his place. But she can
not." Batman wondered briefly if she could read his mind on a superficial
level. That had been exactly what he had been thinking. She smiled. "No, I
have just had eons of practice reading inscrutable faces, Sir Knight."
Hades smiled
darkly, looked at Batman. "Diana, my wife loves Sappho's
poetry. Why not recite to her the poem beginning, 'He is more than a
hero?'"
Persephone
sighed, then said loudly, "My lord, Sappho sits at the table with us. Why not have the poem
read by its originator?"
Hades
scowled, then said, "I believe the Amazon will
recite it with more feeling, wife." He growled. "Speak, Amazon."
Diana bowed
her head. "As you wish, my lord," she said tightly. She stared down
the table at Persephone; when she began, her voice was warm, with no sign of
her anger toward Hades.
He is more
than a hero
he is a god in my eyes--
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you -- he
who listens intimately
to the sweet murmur of
your voice, the enticing
laughter that makes my own
heart beat fast. If I meet
you suddenly, I can'
speak -- my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,
hearing only my own ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body
and I turn paler than
dry grass. At such times
death isn't far from me
A hush had
fallen over the room, eyes turned to Batman as if realizing why Hades had
wanted Diana to recite that specific poem. Diana's gaze met Bruce's, briefly,
burning him with its intensity, before she turned to Hades. "These poems
are well known by your guests, my lord. Perhaps I should recite something newer
to entertain them and my lady? Perhaps from the English Bard,
Shakespeare?"
"Barbaric
language," Hades muttered loudly enough for all to hear.
"She is
thinking of one that will reveal him to be a fool," Persephone whispered
to Bruce, then said loudly, "I would like to hear
it, my lord."
Batman
smiled.
Diana began
reciting the scene between the fool and his king from King Lear, lacing
the lines with enough sarcasm to make their double meanings clear to the
guests, but not, Batman realized, to Hades.
Persephone
murmured, "Hades is too vain but to take her at the face meaning of this.
Diana chose well." She leaned closer to Batman, said, "Let us speak
of a different clown, Sir Knight. Hecate informed us
that he crossed over three days ago. He has been traveling, first through the
Wastes, then the Elysian Fields. He caused a stir there, and we were first alerted
of his presence then, before Hecate arrived. Now he
is nearing the River Styx."
"Can you
or Hades transport Diana and myself to his
location?"
Persephone
shook her head. "I have no power here at all; Hades has no power to affect
mortals, or he would have dealt with the Joker when he first heard of him. I
can, however, supply you with our fastest horses. They will have you there in
an hour. I will inform the stables to have them ready by daybreak."
"Not
earlier, Persephone?" He didn't want to remain in this palace longer than
was necessary.
She blinked.
"No one has spoken my name to me in thousands of years, not since I came
here the first time. How odd that I hear it now with your
accent." Humor touched her lips. "I am the Maiden That Must
Not Be Named. But I appreciate your lack of fear." She shook herself.
"There is no light by which to guide the horses, Dark Knight. I could not
guarantee your safety. Your Joker will not be traveling, either, so it makes no
difference."
She didn't
know the Joker, Batman thought, but didn't argue. Around them, the guests burst
into laughter and clapped as Diana finished her recital.
Persephone
stood. "My lord, I am retiring for the evening. I wish to escort our
mortal guests to their rooms, bid my friends good evening."
Hades
frowned, but said, "I was tiring of her presence anyway. Begone, Amazon, and Dark Knight."
Outside of
the Great Hall, Persephone clasped Diana's forearms, kissed her warmly on the
cheek. "My friend," she said. "How wonderful
to see you, despite the setting and circumstances."
Diana smiled.
"You bring light to any setting, my lady."
Persephone
gestured to Batman. "I have made arrangements for you to find this clown
of yours. Your knight will tell you of them. Until then, let's walk, and tell
me tales of your Outer World."
Bruce trailed
behind the two women, listening idly. Diana never mentioned her mother, which
surprised him. He wondered if some part of her had plans to see her while she
was in the Underworld.
They reached
their room. Persephone looked inside, wrinkled her lip in annoyance. "He
had you installed in a servants' quarters."
Diana
laughed, and assured the goddess they were not offended. With a final kiss and
embrace for Diana, Persephone left them. Bruce followed Diana into the room, re-set
his traps, and performed another survey of the room's security. He took extra
time; he was, he realized, avoiding a discussion with Diana about what he had
learned in Hades' throne room.
He stopped
his sweep of the room, looked at Diana, who was watching him from beside a
roaring fireplace. No, he decided, he wouldn't avoid it. He would face it head on, take control of the situation at once.
"You
love me. There is no hope for us, Diana." He didn't let himself feel
anything.
She gazed at
him steadily. "I know."
"I do
not love you." He didn't.
She never
wavered. "I know that as well. In any case, if you did, Ariadne was right. You not loving me is
better than loving me and rejecting me."
"If you
want to be sure of me, you can use your lasso." Not that he needed to be
sure, but she was his friend, his comrade; she might want to know the truth. He
didn't love her.
She shrugged.
"There is no point. If Ariadne didn't lie, then
you wouldn't believe what the lasso had to say, either, and if she did lie, we
still have to break the spell on you."
"The
lasso would not reveal love I don't feel."
"Of
course it wouldn't, and for that I am glad." Diana took a deep breath.
"If you loved me, yet stayed alone, I would be very angry with you."
She turned to the side, mini-fires reflected in her eyes.
"Angry?"
What right would she have to be angry? His temper sparked. He fought for
control.
"For denying yourself something for which you fight."
He stepped up
to her, forced her to look at him. "I don't fight for love, Diana. I fight
for life, for people to live."
She tilted
her head, eyes wide, face gentle. "You fight so
that families don't lose each other. You fight because your mother and father
will never be able to fulfill their promises of love to each other. You allow
yourself the family, but not the love between a man and woman. You're a
hypocrite, Bruce."
His words
were hard. He had to end this, now. "Because I don't love you, I'm a
hypocrite? Maybe I don't love you because I don't want to be your
She stood
frozen, expression hurt, then angry. "That was the fantasy of a girl, Bruce, it accessed a fantasy from when I first entered Man's
World. This is a woman." She smiled suddenly. "And I would be the
Control. He would have to show her, she wouldn't listen. He
couldn't love her. He spoke through clenched teeth. "Do you know what it
would be like to be loved by that hero? If you could only
have Batman?" He pushed her backwards until she was pressed against
a wall, against a frieze depicting the fall of
Her warmth
grabbed at him, clutched at him; he closed himself off from it. "The. Batman. Diana. Cold. Hard. Fucks. Unfeeling.
No. Love." He punctuated each word with a
powerful thrust into her. "Is this what you want from him?"
She was
breathless, arching against him, taking him deeper. "Sometimes I'd want it
this way," she breathed, met his eyes. "But this isn't all it would
be, you know it isn't."
He stared
down at her. He was buried inside her. He was using her cruelly, yet she held
onto him, her face open, trusting. The face that he had seen happy, he'd seen
cry. That had alternately been naive and wise, innocent and sensual, serious
and full of humor. He'd seen her save millions of people with barely a lift of
her finger, had seen her risk her own life to save one. She was strong, she was
beautiful.
He was in
love with her.
He leaned
forward, rested his forehead against hers, closed his
eyes. "No, that's not all it would be."
She lifted
herself, sank back down. "Show me how else it would be."
He carried
her to the bed. He was the Batman, but he wasn't thinking of
Bruce. Batman.
He was both.
He could be both with her. He was both to her.
But, he
realized later, holding her next to him, he couldn't have her and also have
complete control. There was still the danger of slipping, of his lack of
control spilling over into killing.
And if he
didn't have complete control, he couldn't be Batman.
He pulled her
to him tightly, listened to her even breaths as she slept.
It would be
dawn soon.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Chapter 5: The Long Way Down
Donna rubbed
her neck, wishing that she possessed a super power that prevented painful
cricks. And, she added ruefully, protected her from menstrual cramps, headaches, hangnails and men.
She checked
her watch:
Something strong enough and personal enough that Donna had
automatically suppressed their connection; some things should not be shared,
even between sisters. Especially between sisters, Donna thought with a smile.
Talking about it was one thing. Feeling it was another.
Her
expression turned thoughtful as she looked at Batman. What she had felt from
Diana was more than just sexual; there had been real emotion, real love. She
touched Diana's hand where it lay on her chest, squeezed it gently for an
instant.
She hoped
Diana wouldn't get hurt.
But she also
knew that she probably would. It was Batman, after all. A man
who'd barely been a father to his son--her good friend, Dick Grayson--and who,
in his Bruce Wayne persona, changed his women more often than his underwear.
Diana didn't stand a chance.
Donna sighed,
then lifted Diana's satchel to test its weight. They needed more food, she
decided, and left the room, heading for the kitchen.
She walked
through the kitchen entrance, then blinked. Dick was
sitting on one of the counters, eating a piece of pizza.
"Hi,"
he mumbled around a mouthful of food, then swallowed. "Got your message."
Donna eyed
the pizza carton; it was from a local pizzeria, and she was sure it was one
that had been sitting in their fridge for almost a month. She kept that to herself, said, "I didn't hear you come in."
He grinned,
took another bite, then jumped down from the counter
to sit at the table. "Turned up the sound nullifiers when I saw you were
sleeping. Helped myself to your pizza."
Donna smiled,
dropped into the chair next to his. "Eat it all, if you want. I don't
think it's something I'll send to Diana and Batman."
Dick raised
an eyebrow, paused in the middle of a bite. "Send to them? Hell's Postal
Service?"
Donna rubbed
her forehead, her neck again. "Kind of. Magical
bags, actually."
"Of course, magical bags." He nodded knowingly.
"I keep a bunch around my apartment." His expression changed as Donna
continued massaging her neck. "You okay?"
"Yeah. No. Yeah." She frowned.
"I don't know." She sighed. "It's Diana and Batman."
A crease
appeared between his eyebrows. "Are they in trouble? They looked like they
were sleeping in there."
"They
are fine, I'm pretty sure," Donna reassured him, then looked at him
squarely. "Diana's been in
"Yes,"
he said, and waited. Donna could tell he was in his listening mode; he would
wait until she told him everything, then try to solve
whatever problem she had. He was, she thought, a great friend. Her best.
"I know
you've heard rumors about something going on in the Watchtower a few weeks ago
between them." Donna stood up, started filling a glass of water at the
sink.
Dick watched
her. "Yes, I've heard."
Donna turned
off the tap, set the glass on the counter untouched, stared at the tiles above
the basin. Finally, she turned back to him. "Something did happen between
them. Caused by me."
Dick smiled,
but his eyes remained serious. "You forced them to have sex? You just beat
them unconscious and poked it in?"
She
appreciated his attempt at humor, but couldn't find it in her to smile back.
"No, there was an accident with a spell."
Dick released
a long breath, sat back in his chair. He wasn't smiling now. "Batman
wouldn't have liked that," he said softly. "Did he say anything to
you?"
Donna shook
her head. "Not really." She hesitated. "But there's more to it
than that. Diana went to the Underworld because of the spell; she had to go
there to break it."
"And
Batman's down there to get the Joker," Dick said. She'd told him as much
in her message.
"Right. Anyway, I think that as much time as Diana's
been spending with Batman--because of that spell--she's fallen in love with
him. And he's going to break her heart," she finished miserably.
"How can
you be sure?" Dick's tone was even.
"I felt
it through our bond; her love was real, not because of the spell."
"I meant
that he'd break her heart."
Donna stared
at him. "He's Batman. He doesn't exactly have a stellar record when it
comes to relationships."
"Or being a father. But we aren't talking about those things. We
are talking about Diana and him."
"I
expected that you, of all people, would understand my worry for Diana."
Donna was well aware of the sometimes bitter feelings Dick had toward Bruce.
"Batman doesn't even like metas."
"It's
not that he doesn't like them, he just thinks the world is better off without
them."
Donna's eyes widened in exasperation. "What's the
difference?"
"Trust,"
Dick said simply. "As long as he can trust Superman, or Diana, he might
like them. But he still thinks they have too much power." He added,
"Of course, with metas who you can't trust
running around committing crimes, he is, at times, glad the powered heroes are
here. Batman can do a lot of things, but even he can't stop something like Mageddon or Imperiex on his
own."
She sat down
again, deflated, but more worried than ever for her sister. "So even at
the best, the most he could feel for her would be reluctant appreciation."
"Are you
worried that she loves him, or that you think he can't feel anything for
her?"
Donna chewed
on her lip, then finally said, "Both. If Batman
could feel anything for anyone, it would be Diana. She's Diana, after all. But,
I don't think he would, and in any case, they are too different."
Dick nodded.
"Of course they are. They are both heroes dedicated to their missions, both will save the universe or die trying. . .
"
". . .
One works from a cave and is obsessively private, the other is constantly in
public; one keeps their secret identity closely guarded, everyone knows who the
other is. . . "
". . . both are intensely loyal with definite opinions of right and
wrong . . . "
" . . . one listens to her heart, the other listens only to
his head . . ."
". . .
and neither one cares anything for what anyone else in the world thinks."
Dick finished as if Donna had never spoken. He leaned forward, tone serious.
"Not one of us really has any opinion that will matter in this. Both of
them will do exactly what they want to do. I know Batman, and you are right, he
can be cold and keep himself fixated on his mission at the expense of
everything and everyone else. I know that better than anyone. But no matter
what has gone between us, he's still . . . important to me. Sometimes I would
give anything to have the man I used to know back. And I think that maybe being
with your sister might bring something back to him that he's lost. A little feeling, a little light. Maybe that's selfish, I
don't know. You want your sister to not get hurt; I want the man who raised me
to stop hurting, just a little. Of all people, I think Wonder Woman can do
that."
Donna stared
at Dick; she loved him, he was as close to her as a brother. But Diana was her
sister. She reached across the table, gripped his hand in her own, feeling his
worry for the Bruce, her worry for Diana. "Yes, Wonder Woman could, if
anyone." Donna sighed. "But I just have a feeling it's doomed from
the start. I--" She broke off, aware of a sudden sensation of pain and
loss. Her connection to Diana. She tried to focus on
her sister; the feeling intensified; became nearly overwhelming. Gasping, near
tears, Donna repressed the connection again. Dick grasped her hand, searching
her face, eyes wide with worry.
"What is
it?"
Donna pulled
her hand away, pressed the heels of her palms against her closed eyes. "It
felt like something broke Diana's heart."
"Oh."
Dick sat back, looked blankly at the pizza he'd been eating. "Stupid,
stubborn Bat," he muttered.
"No,"
Donna said, "It wasn't him. It was Hippolyta."
***
Diana spoke
gently to the horse, checking the girth on the saddle, measuring the stirrups
and adjusting their length. The stables smelled like any stable on Earth--a
mixture of hay, wood, dung, and horseflesh. It was the horses themselves that
were different. Although in form and temperament they seemed like any living
horse, Diana knew they could run like a hurricane, and left a trail of fire in
their wake. She buckled the stirrup strap, looked over her horse's withers at
Bruce, who was doing the same.
She had woken
that morning to find him standing at the window dressed in his Bat
costume--except for the mask, which Hades had made disappear. His face had been
pensive, yet determined, his expression immobile as he'd stared out into the
changing landscape. Then he'd turned to face her, and she had known he'd
withdrawn from her, not just physically but also emotionally.
And she had
let him. Just because a wall had crumbled didn't mean that the keep had fallen.
He'd made no
promises, said not a word of love. She would not make him say them, would not
ask for them. For now, she was patient. She had not expected the possibility of
him loving her; she wanted to savor the feeling, the knowledge. Even if he
would never admit it to himself, even if his withdrawal from her was permanent,
she was beloved by him, by Bruce, by Batman. And one day, she hoped, his love
for her would be greater than his fear of himself. Until then, she was content
to wait. She couldn't, wouldn't force him to admit anything.
She smiled as
she led the horse out into the red, early morning light. Persephone stood near
the stable's entrance, looking up at the sky as if she could see
"My
lady," Diana said, surprised and pleased that the goddess had come to see
them away. She wondered, not for the first time, if Persephone was even more lonely than she seemed at Hades' side. The courtiers in
the palace were there by Hades' choice, not his Queen's. Most of them had once
been mortals, and so saw the Queen of the Underworld as a tragic figure; Greek
tradition dictated that they didn't become friends with her, barely even talk
to her. Only on
Persephone
inclined her head in greeting. "Diana." She looked past her, into the
stables where Bruce was checking his horse's tack again. "Walk with me, my
friend." Persephone turned, robes fluttering like wings. Diana glanced
back at Batman, then followed the goddess, the horse
clomping along beside them.
A hundred
yards later, Persephone stopped, faced Diana. Her eyes were alight with humor.
"Something has changed between you and your companion."
"Changed?"
Diana considered that, shook her head. "That is only true in some
respects. In others, things are very much as they were."
"But not
how you wish them to be," Persephone replied. She laid a hand on the
horse's flank, stroked the beast idly. "He loves you."
Diana shifted
the reins from one hand to another. The goddess' touch made the animal
restless; not unlike, Diana imagined, the way a ray of sunshine made a plant
that had been shut away from the light move and seek the warmth. "I
know."
"He is
brave, and loyal, and does not simply love your for your beauty."
Persephone sighed, then added, "That in itself is
worth ten realms over which to rule." She looked up at the sky again;
Diana remained silent, waited for the goddess to continue. When she continued,
her voice was amused. "He is also very ignorant. He called me by my name."
Diana grinned.
"I'm not convinced that would be ignorance, my lady. He might have known,
but he rarely feels bound by rank and tradition."
Persephone
raised an eyebrow. "You find this an admirable trait?"
"I
do." She always knew that Batman's opinion would never be influenced by
her background as a princess, nor her wealth, physical power and status.
Persephone
nodded. "As do I." Her tone grew serious.
"Why do you never call me by my name? You were once my equal, and well
acknowledged by we Olympians as rather rebellious. And I do not think that you
are swayed by status any more than your friend is."
Diana blinked
in surprise. "My lady, it never occurred to me to call you by your name.
Though my friend, you are also the Queen of this realm, and I have always tried
to remember that. Perhaps I have been bound by tradition as are all of your
subjects." Bound by her upbringing as well, Diana
thought. Had she failed to see the woman before the queen, before the
goddess? She was suddenly afraid she might have done exactly that.
She had done
the same to her mother.
Persephone
sighed. "Perhaps it is what the Fates have decreed, however unwelcome that
may be."
"No, my lady." She paused, forced the name. "Persephone. It is simply the blindness of those around
you. Including myself."
Persephone's
smile was brilliant, blinding. "Thank you, Diana. I think I have grown
weary of tradition, even though those around me have held onto it more tightly
in the last few centuries. Here and on
Diana nodded,
wondering if the same could be said of herself and her fellow Amazons. They'd
had change forced upon them, but not all had taken it unwillingly, and many had
helped instigate the changes. "Everywhere, my
lady." She smiled then. "Persephone."
The goddess
laughed delightedly. "It is not so easy, is it?" She took Diana's
free hand, and began walking back toward the stables.
Diana looked
at Bruce, who was standing beside his mount near the door. "No, change is
not always easy."
"For
mortals or gods," Persephone said. They neared Batman, and Persephone
reached inside her robe, produced a small vial from a fold. "Sir Knight. I
have something for you."
"Lady
Persephone," he replied, and held out a gauntleted hand to receive the
object. He held it up, observed it. He looked questioningly at Diana, then
Persephone.
"It is
to hold water from the River Lethe," she explained. "I couldn't help
but notice your discomfort when unmasked last evening. I assume that you prefer
your identity to remain hidden."
Batman nodded
slightly.
"This
vial measures enough liquid to erase one month's memories. Earth months,"
she added. "When you encounter your Joker, he will see your face. But if
you should have him drink the liquid before returning to Earth, he will forget
permanently what he has done and seen here, and the method by which he
came."
Diana watched
for Bruce's reaction; of course, there was none. A memory wipe--no matter how
small--was unethical, but it had been done before when memories would pose a
danger to a person or the people around them; since it was Bruce's secret, she
would accept his decision. It wasn't just his identity, Diana knew. Batman
would consider the Joker's knowledge of the Underworld and the
"Are
there any other effects besides recent memory loss? I thought drinking or
eating items from here would link us to this realm permanently."
"It
links only certain memories to this realm. That is all the Lethe takes,
although the same can not be said of other food and drink. As for effects,
there will be temporary ones. He will seem to lose all of his memories for a
few hours, then his older memories will resurface, except
for the previous month." Obviously taking Batman's
question as a sign that he would use the river's water, she added, "You
will have to cross the Lethe on your way to the
Diana's heart
froze. Her eyes searched Persephone's, found truth, and sympathy. "How? Why?" She whispered the words. "Why not the Elysian Fields?"
"She was
at the Fields, but made a journey here to ask that Hades allow her to return to
Earth," Persephone said gently. "Hades granted her request. I am
sorry, Diana. Perhaps she will be born in your lifetime, and you will meet with
her again."
"Is she
already a shade? Perhaps she is still in human form, has not yet been
transformed…?" Persephone shook her head, and that hope died within Diana.
Her shoulders slumped. "Even should she be born while I live, she will not
know me."
Persephone
squeezed Diana's hand. "Have faith that her soul will recognize yours, my
friend."
Diana tried
to find comfort in that, straightened, took a deep breath. "I will
try." She let go of the goddess' hand, turned to Batman. "Shall we
ride?"
His eyes
searched her face; she schooled her features, tried not to let her grief show.
It was time to be a warrior.
Bruce's
answer was to mount his horse; after a brief embrace for Persephone, Diana did
the same.
Diana nudged
the horse into a gallop; the hoof beats were like thunder, echoing through her.
She held on, the wind whipping around her, tearing the breath from her lungs,
stinging tears from her eyes. She tried not to think of her mother; to whom
Diana could never apologize, from whom she would never find forgiveness.
It weighed on
her heart; she wondered if she'd have the strength to bear it.
***
Bruce's
parents had taught him to ride when he was four years old. His mother had
steadied his pony while his father had placed him on its back; with their
support and guidance, he'd never fallen off, never had to pick himself off the
ground and get back in the saddle.
That had come
later, and the fall had been in an alley, not a paddock. More falls had
followed: his first night as a crimefighter, but not
yet Batman, Jason's death and Barbara's paralyzation
at the hands of the Joker, his broken back, No Man's Land, every death that he
hadn't been fast enough or smart enough or strong enough to stop. Each time
he'd had to force himself to continue, to go on--and he had. And each one of
his falls had given him even more reason to continue his work.
If he had
been a weaker man, he would consider last night with Diana one of his hardest
tumbles. He had fallen in love with her, and it had taken all of his strength
to leave the bed before she woke, to tell her with that one action that nothing
had changed, no matter that part of him wanted it to. If he had been a weaker
man, he would have attributed their lovemaking to something else: lust, their
close proximity, the effect of the spell. But he realized now that there was no
longer a spell, and that everything he'd done the night before was because he
loved her and because he was afraid of the consequences of that love. If he had
been a weaker man, he wouldn't have cared about consequences, wouldn't have
admitted his love.
He wished
that she was a different woman, someone who whined, wanted and claimed, not a
woman of acceptance and generosity. There would be no conflict then; he
couldn't have fallen in love with her if she had expected anything from him
other than what he was. And he wished he was a different man, one who could
love her as she deserved, openly.
Instead he
was bound by his masks, and he wouldn't give them up, couldn't remove them.
Just as she couldn't change whom she was.
Diana rode
ahead of him, back straight, head high. He knew what it cost her to ride like
that, and his pride almost overwhelmed his concern.
She had truly
lost her mother. The Lethe was the
Unlike
Artemis, or Superman, Hippolyta wouldn't be coming
back from the dead as herself, even if she was reborn during Diana's lifetime.
And unlike the rest of Diana's Amazon sisters and friends, Hippolyta
wouldn't be waiting for her in the Elysian Fields to spend eternity in bliss.
Batman knew
Diana had incredible faith in the afterlife, and death must have seemed a
surmountable obstacle to her: she herself had died, then been resurrected. Even
those she knew who had died and weren't resurrected, she would have been
certain that their souls existed in some other, better place. But now, that
certainty would be shaken to her very core. And the belief that things could be
made right, even after death.
Her parent
was as out of reach as his were to him. He knew how she was feeling; even as he
wished he could take her pain away, though, he hoped it would make her
stronger, give her new purpose. The way his own pain had
given him something for which to fight.
And they
would both have to use their missions to forget about their feelings for each
other. It was, he decided, the only way. The only thing more
powerful, more compelling, than the need to lose himself in her was his
mission. Ironic, he thought, that the thing that made them so
similar--their missions--was also what kept them apart, and what would fill
whatever space was created by the other's absence.
His horse
shifted gaits, began slowing. Ahead, he could see a shimmer of water -- the
River Lethe. It had taken a little less than ten minutes to reach it.
Diana had
dismounted by the time his horse reached the river's edge. The banks were
lined, Batman realized, with shades whose forms began to take shape the longer
he looked at them. They crowded together, and through each other, a mishmash of
souls.
His cape
fluttered as he swung down from the saddle. Diana didn't look at him as he
withdrew the vial from his belt; she was slowly scanning the riverbank.
Searching, Batman knew, for her mother. He stepped down to the water's edge and
filled the tube, using a small pair of tongs to hold the vial in the enchanted
water. He didn't want to touch the river itself, even while wearing his gloves.
"Is this
how you felt?" Diana asked behind him. "Helpless?"
He capped the
vial, made sure it didn't leak. "Because you can't bring
them back? Undo what's been done?" He glanced toward her, caught
her nod. "Yes. At first, and mixed with other emotions.
Anger. Shame that it was them and
not me, that I didn't do anything to save them. That they died saving
me." He stood, looked down the riverbank, realized the shades were
crowding in around him. The longer he looked, the better he could see their
faces, their bodies. He stepped back, kept his eyes moving so that the dead
never took shape. He hated this place. "We should go," he said.
"Yes,"
Diana answered, but her eyes continued searching the shades, and she made no
move toward her horse.
"Diana,"
he said softly. She didn't look at him, so he reached out, cupped her chin, made her see him. "If you saw her, would it make it
better? You wouldn't be able to talk to her, nor could she speak with
you."
Her lip
trembled, but her eyes remained dry. "Yes. I could tell her I'm sorry.
That I love her."
Bruce shook
his head. "She wouldn't hear or see you. And do you think she didn't know
that?"
"I don't
know." Diana closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "I was awful to
her."
He understood
her grief, but he needed her to refocus her emotions. If it had to be anger
towards him, it was better than lethargic self-pity. "Ah, you are right. I
remember Hippolyta well, and she was much too stupid
to see past her daughter's selfishness. She must have thought you hated
her," he said, his tone serious.
Diana stared
at him, astonished, then slowly smiled. "Did Alfred try that line on you
when you were young?"
"A few weeks ago, actually." Bruce took her hand,
led her to her horse. Better to get away from this place quickly, he thought,
and better for her to have action and a purpose. "A couple of days before
the Joker escaped," he added. And a couple of days
before the spell, and a couple of days before he fell in love with her.
A few bullets, a few weeks; his life had been defined by small incidents.
She caught
his hand when he turned toward his own horse. "Does it get easier? Does
the mission ease the grief?"
He considered
lying, but offered the truth. "No. But it was never supposed to. I'm
simply trying to keep it from happening to anyone else."
"But my
job has always been to bring peace."
"Maybe
it should be to make sure no more daughters lose their mothers in war."
Diana drew her
eyebrows together. "Isn't that the same thing?" She let go of his
hand, turned to step into her stirrup, swung her leg over the horse's back. Her
movements were smooth, efficient.
"No. It
just has the same end." He pulled an extra mask from a pocket in his cape
lining. It wasn't filled with gadgets like his standard cowl because it had to
be compact to fit in the small compartment, but it would keep his head covered
and identity hidden, and had the same general shape as his usual disguise. He
hadn't put it on earlier, certain that Hades would have made his spare
disappear if he had worn it in the palace.
"Perhaps." Diana drew up her reins, waited while he
mounted his horse. "So you don't fight crime, it's just that your mission
dictates the fighting of crime to save lives?"
"Exactly,"
he said, and urged his horse to a gallop. Diana caught up with him in seconds.
She grinned,
and yelled to him over the rushing wind and hoofbeats,
"You just don't want any more Batmans created
who could edge in on your territory!"
He twisted
his lips into a Bruce Wayne leer and called back, "That's right, Wonder
Babe. My territory.
***
This wasn't
funny anymore. The Joker gunned down another stinking, flying hyena, laughed at
the thud it made against the ground. He'd thought the first time they had come
back to life it was the best joke in the world; after the eighth time, the joke
had worn thin.
"Get a
new act!" he screamed at the corpses littering the ground, and wished he
had killed the whining bitch who had sent him here. He
stopped shooting and looked around, thinking how enjoyable it would be to show
her a trick or two with a magic hat and rabid bunny. The image cheered him
again, so he shot a dead demon to watch its black blood spatter. He used his
foot to draw a smiley face with the blood, and grinned.
No, he was
glad he hadn't killed Medea. The pleasure he would
get when Batman realized the Joker's invulnerability would outweigh any
temporary delight received by ripping Medea's head
from her shoulders.
He would kill
her when he got back, though, he decided. Then he would double his pleasure. Double his fun. He suddenly wished he had some chewing gum.
He searched
through his pockets and came up empty, but he did find the golden apple Medea had given him.
"Don't
eat it," she had warned. "It'll lead you to the
He considered
eating it for a second, wondering what gold fruit tasted like, if it would make
golden shit when it passed through his bowels, and whether it would kill him
faster than the disease that was breaking down his body, but was distracted by
the glint of the river in the distance. He was almost there. The apple glowed
subtly. He spit on it, then shined it against his jacket lapel and stuck it
back into his pocket. Poking one of the demon's eyes with his rifle barrel, he
yelled, "Out, vile jelly!" then continued on his merry way.
He made up
ditties to sing along the way and was trying to think of a word that rhymed
with 'Batguts' when he realized he had reached the
riverbank. He rubbed his eyes comically and laughed, because it really was a
good facial expression and worth a laugh, even if he didn't have an audience.
The water
flowed sluggishly, and he stepped forward. The cold and the current caught him
by surprise, and he shouted aloud, then noticed how
hoarse his voice sounded from the singing. Hoarse, horse, he giggled to
himself, and imagined hoof beats. He stepped in further, bracing himself
against the pressure of the water. His legs tingled. Ha, Bats! he thought. He was going to be invulnerable. He would be
able to stand next to a bomb and watch from the center of the explosion as it
blew people up. Bliss. The water was up to his chest
now. He took another step and it reached his neck. He wished now that he had
done this differently, maybe like Bugs Bunny when he got into a hot bath. Testing with the ass, jerking up, testing again, then settling in
with a sigh. Oh well, he thought, no need to be derivative, and took a
deep breath, preparing to dunk his head under. He shut his eyes, closed his
mouth, plugged his nose with a pinch of his thumb and
forefinger. He started to bend forward, Joker baptismal, but he couldn't move
his head. He frowned, and tried again. Nope. Something was around his neck.
And, he realized, it was pulling him backward. He opened one eye.
Nope, nothing there. Just the river. He
turned his head, couldn't see anything else, then
remembered to open his other eye. Something brushed against his leg, so he
looked down and caught a glimpse of faint and glowing, but he was tugged again
by the neck back toward the riverbank before he could make it come into focus.
"Aghh!" It was, he thought,
the most appropriate sound to make when something was dragging you by the neck.
He scratched at his throat, felt a line of thin rope, and turned his head to
look behind him. A cast member from Gladiator was sitting on a horse and
had him secured with a yellow fishing line.
"Thumbs
down!" he tried to yell, but the pressure from the loop around his neck
made it come out as a squeak. He wished briefly for an axe, or a knife, or even
a really sharp spork to cut
off a movie critic's fat thumb and throw it at his captor; then he saw Batman
standing next to her horse. "Aghh!"
If Batman was
here, did that mean the winged rodent was dead? The idea filled the Joker with
rage. He took a better look at the gladiator, realized who it was, and wondered
if his gunmen at the auction had been better shots than he'd counted on. Wonder
Woman pulled him inexorably forward, but the Joker resisted just for the sake
of resisting. A new thought occurred to him then, something so shocking and
wonderful that he could almost ignore whatever was playing with his pants'
pocket. If Batman were dead and in the Underworld, did that mean he could be
killed over and over like the demons? That the Joker could think of endless
scenarios and jokes with which to murder him? Previously, he had always held
back because of the knowledge that he could only kill Batman once.
The Joker
laughed. He laughed as he tried to hit the thing prying into his pants, his
swats hampered by the water, laughed and stepped forward, intent
on killing Batman for the first but not last time. He had a gun in his pocket,
and an apple. He'd use the gun then eat the apple.
His hand
searched his pocket--yes, there was the gun, but where was the apple? The Joker
frowned. He quickly checked his other pocket, then down the front of his
waistband, just in case, but there were only fruits of another sort there.
Trying to remember if he had eaten it already, or dropped it, or put it
somewhere else, he almost missed the look of horror cross Wonder Woman's
face--which would have been a shame, because horror on a hero's face was worth
at least ten belly laughs.
She jerked on
the lasso, hard, and Joker landed on his face on the bank, his eyes and nose
filled with black sand. He choked on a chuckle.
"Aghh," he said.
***
Diana didn't
take her eyes off of the form floating above the river, in whose hand was clasped
Maxie Zeus' Apple of Discord. She watched as Eris became solid, corporeal. Eris
was taking power from the apple, Diana realized, changing from a shade back to
a goddess.
Batman had
trussed the Joker and slung him over his horse's hindquarters. He climbed into
the saddle. "What are our options, Diana?"
Diana began
backing her horse away from the river, slowly. She didn't know yet if Eris was conscious of her surroundings, and didn't want to
attract the goddess' attention. "We have to get to the gates of the
Underworld. It's our only way out. We can't just wake up. And the Joker came
here physically, so he has to leave that way, even if we didn't. Which we
do," she added. Eris' eyes were still closed; a
good sign, Diana thought. "Eris will gain power
from the apple, but won't be able to leave the Underworld on her own." And
if Eris remained in the Underworld, Hades would
eventually take care of her. No need for Diana and Batman to get involved,
especially without her powers.
"On her own?" Batman repeated.
Diana nodded.
"There are two ways for her to leave: eating the apple, but that would
drain its power and leave her a shade again, only a shade on Earth instead of
in the
"Us,"
Batman said, voice grim. He turned his horse so that
it walked alongside Diana's, the Joker struggling and coughing behind him.
Diana glanced
at the clown, then back at Eris. She frowned. "I
think I understand. This was never about the Joker--"
"--it
was about Medea completing her father's work,"
Batman finished for her. "She must have used the Joker to get the apple
into the
"Because
it was too dangerous for Medea to come here on her
own? So she sent the clown?" Diana wondered. They were almost a quarter of
a mile from the river now; she could still see Eris,
a small figure in the distance, floating motionless above the ribbon of water.
She nudged her horse into a canter--they could move more quickly now, they
needed to move quickly.
The Joker
giggled. "Revenge." Diana barely heard him
over the hoof beats of the horses.
Revenge? On whom? Diana thought back to
that night in
"She
thinks you killed her father!" Diana yelled to Batman. He nodded once; he
must have come to the same conclusions as she.
Medea either had gotten very lucky, or she had heard and known enough
about Batman to make a plan for vengeance that created a win/win situation for
her. If Batman didn't detect the Joker's plan to go into the
But the Joker
hadn't become invulnerable, not completely. They had caught him before he'd
submerged his head. And Eris hadn't approached them
-- yet. Diana and Batman might still make it out, and foil Medea's
plan. In the future, Batman would simply have to remember that when he needed
to take the Joker out he'd have to do it with a blow to his vulnerable head.
The horses
raced south; toward, Diana hoped, the gate to Earth. She trusted that
Persephone had communicated somehow to the horses their destination, and hoped
that Hades hadn’t changed the location of the gate out of spite. After endless
minutes, punctuated by the pounding hooves and Diana’s glances behind them to
make sure they weren’t being followed, the gate finally rose into view on the
horizon.
Like Hades’
palace, the exit to the Underworld was a mountain; unlike the palace, however,
the entrance was not at the base, but the summit. They would have to ride the
horses up the mountain as far as possible, then climb
the rest of the way, pulling the Joker along behind them. At the top, they
would claw their way through the portal. Batman and she would wake up in her
bed, and the Joker would physically climb through, arriving in the same place
he entered the Underworld.
Would Medea be waiting for him? Diana wondered. How long would it
take for she and Batman to track them down? The two
criminals had traveled to
Diana grinned
at herself. She was assuming, of course, that Batman would tolerate her help
once they got back to Earth. Their reason for working together – breaking the
spell – was gone. Unless, Diana realized, Batman really didn’t know that the
spell on him had been broken. Or that he wouldn’t let himself realize it.
Diana was
certain that he loved her, but she didn’t know if he accepted it. Or if it would make any difference to him if he did accept it.
If that morning had been any indication, then it wouldn't make a difference;
but, Diana couldn't help but hold out hope because he had given in to
his need for her--for a night, at least.
Ahead of her
Batman’s horse galloped, the Joker bouncing up and down on the animal’s rump.
Diana smiled slightly. The Joker deserved much worse, but for now she would
take the pleasure of his discomfort to heart.
Diana pulled
back on the reins when they reached the mountain. She studied the terrain,
pointed at a faint trail going up the side. "We’ll take that. It looks
like our best option—I don’t think the horses can make it all the way up. We’ll
have to dismount eventually."
Batman
gestured to the Joker. "Once we start walking, he’ll be more difficult to
control."
Diana looked
at him, gaze steady. "Do you want to use the Lathe water?"
"Water, smotter. I feel like a horse’s
ass," the Joker said. Diana and Bruce ignored him. He frowned, muttering
and wiggling against his bonds.
"He
might make it back here and become completely invulnerable," Diana said.
Batman pulled
the vial from his utility belt. "It’s also destroying evidence. His
memories are clues to the murders of Farletti and
Nichols."
Diana
frowned. She hadn’t considered that. She understood why Batman was hesitating
now; it wasn’t the ethics of erasing the Joker’s memories of the past month, it
was removing the possibility of closing the case publicly, of giving some
measure of relief to grieving family members. "Even if he did remember, no
jury would convict Medea on the testimony of this
clown; she would get off. And the Joker is just going back to Arkham. You know that."
The corners
of his mouth raising into a small, tired smile, Batman
replied, "I know." He grinned fully then. "I had just hoped you
would be more optimistic about it, and save me from choosing to do this."
Diana grinned
back. "Even I am realistic about
"Are you
smiling, Bats?" The Joker demanded. "What’s the joke?"
Batman swung
down from the saddle. "A man and a woman go to hell and meet the
Devil." He pinched the Joker’s nose closed. "’Hey,’ the Devil says,
‘I’ll make you a deal. You can get out of here if you just chase down the jerk who’s letting all ghosts get in here.’" He flicked the
vial open with his thumb, and continued. "So they agree, and they pick the
guy up."
"Dis idn’t berry bunny," the
Joker commented.
Batman poured
the liquid into the clown’s open mouth, then pushed his jaw closed, forcing the
Joker to swallow the water. "No, it isn’t funny. That’s because the joke’s
on you."
The Joker
kicked once, then fell unconscious. Diana didn’t feel sorry
for him, but she ached for Bruce, who’d done what he thought best.
"And it’s on us," she added.
Bruce sighed.
"It’s always on us." After checking the Joker’s vitals, he climbed
back on his horse, clicked it forward. It picked its way along the rocky path—no
more running, the trail was simply to steep, narrow and dangerous.
"Why ‘always’?" Diana asked. This time, they’d been
forced to do something unethical in the name of the greater good. But she
didn’t think that was always true.
"How
many times have we done things like this, making ourselves like the people we
fight? Using methods that shouldn’t be used?"
"What
would the alternative be? Let the Joker know that he was mostly invulnerable?
He’d put on an indestructible helmet and start wreaking havoc." She
paused, then amended, "More havoc. And if he
remembered how to get here, he might do it again, and finish making himself
completely invulnerable. Not that it matters," Diana muttered, "since
he’s safe from you anyway."
Batman’s head
whipped around. "What?"
"Vulnerable, invulnerable. What does it matter?
You won’t kill him. When it comes down to it, that’s all invulnerability would
have helped the Joker. You could still capture him,
you just wouldn’t be able to beat him in a fight, since he wouldn’t be hurt
easily. You would have to think of other ways to bring him down. Luckily, he
only got into the river to his neck, so beating him physically is still an
option."
"Do you
think I should kill him, Diana?" Batman’s voice was soft.
Diana shook
her head. He wouldn’t be Batman if he started dealing out that ultimate
justice. He wouldn’t be Bruce. "No." A smile touched her mouth.
"I’m the only one who crosses that line. So if you ever get tired of him,
call me." She tried to joke, tried to get that serious, angry tone of his
to go away.
"You
don’t cross that line."
Diana
couldn’t decide if that was a statement of fact or a command. "But I
would, if it came down to it. No one else in the JLA would, except me."
"We all
have our breaking point, Diana."
"Maybe. I don’t think you do, though."
His back
stiffened visibly, then Diana watched him relax with
an apparent effort. "Still convinced that I won’t lose control?" She
heard the smile in his voice.
"Yes,"
she said simply.
"Why?"
"You
would have by now."
"Every
day,
"Every
day, you get stronger."
"Every
day, I get older, Princess. Weaker."
She thought
of his perfect physique and laughed. "Oh, you have a few good months left,
old man."
Batman
twisted around in his saddle, checked the Joker, then
looked at her. "My body is a tool, Diana. Once it starts going, it will be
tempting to resort to other, easier methods. I could kill with half the effort
it takes to knock a criminal out. Restraint takes effort."
Diana thought
of her strength, her power of truth. Her humor faded. "I know that better
than anyone. Do you know how often I’ve wanted to fly to the White House, wrap
the lasso around Luthor and make him admit to the
world what kind of a man he really is? How often I have wanted to fly to military
bases around the world and take away, with my fists, everyone’s ability to wage
nuclear war? I could do it."
"What’s
stopping you?"
"Knowing that it wouldn’t solve anything. That people have to
learn peace for themselves, learn compassion for themselves.
I can only show--" The back of her neck prickled, as if an icy wind had
blown across it. She quickly looked behind her. Nothing.
"Diana?"
Batman's hand went to his utility belt.
Her horse
shied under her, spooked. She grabbed onto the pommel of her saddle and fought
to stay on as it reared and kicked. "I think it's Eris!"
She shouted. "Go! Get to the top of the mountain!" Her horse suddenly
screamed and fell to its knees; Diana lost her grip and sailed over its head,
letting her body go limp so that she wouldn't get hurt too badly. Her forehead
slammed against the ground and stars burst behind her eyes. She shook her head
and looked up, hoping that Batman had fled even though she knew he wouldn't
leave her there alone. The edges of her vision were blurry, but she saw the
streak of gray that hit Batman hard, knocking him from his horse, and she cried
out in anger. Phobos, she realized. Eris must have freed him from his punishment and then come
here to intercept them.
The dead
travel fast, she thought even as she struggled to her knees, intent on reaching
Bruce, trying to establish Eris' location. Diana
could see Phobos standing over Batman's prone body,
but she didn't see the goddess. "Eris!"
Diana called the name as a challenge, an attempt to make the goddess show
herself.
Wonder Woman
felt something squeeze in her mind then, and the world became dark, and she
realized that the battle wouldn't take place physically. The Goddess of Discord
was inside her, and would use every bit of conflict within Diana's heart and
mind to break her. And Diana would have to win to purge Eris
from her head, and to help Batman.
Diana closed
her eyes and fell willingly into unconsciousness, into the fight.
***
Batman wished
he could close his eyes, but they remained open, his gaze fixed on Diana's torn
body. So much blood: in a pool beneath her head, copious amounts smeared
between her thighs, and on her arms. He staggered forward, fell to his knees at
her side, gathered her into his arms. He tore off a
glove and searched for a pulse, for breath, even though he could feel how cold
and limp she was, could see the neat little hole in her forehead. .22 caliber, an analytical part of his mind immediately
recognized. He looked at the blood staining his bare hand.
"Diana?"
His hoarse whisper held the echo of a little boy in an alley.
"That
old gray mare she ain't what she used to be,"
the Joker's voice sang; Bruce looked up, saw the clown sitting on a ledge in
the cliff, swinging his legs to the beat of the song, Diana's lasso twirling in
one hand. He held a pistol in the other.
Bruce laid
Diana gently back down, smoothed a stray hair from her face, then stood up,
facing the Joker. "You did this," he stated quietly.
"Did
what?" the Joker asked, expression innocent..
"Shot
her." Batman took a step forward.
Scratching
his head with the muzzle of the gun, the Joker said, "Well, not exactly.
We were playing a game, you see. She was supposed to deflect the bullet with
her bracelets. She missed."
"Playing
a game? You tied her." The blood on her arms had been caused by Diana
struggling against something; a thin rope or a wire. "How could she
deflect bullets while tied?"
"She's
strong," the Joker shrugged. He eyed Batman, who was now standing twelve
feet below him, directly under the ledge. "She was unconscious,
I tied her so that I'd have a head start. When I saw she couldn't break the
wire, well…" The Joker grinned. "I decided to play a game."
"You
raped her." Bruce said flatly.
"No,"
the Joker laughed. "Not when she could still kick me. Do you think I'm
crazy?" He licked his lips. "I waited until afterward. I mean, she
was just lying there. Wonder Woman, you know. Hubba hubba.
Quiet and still warm, just the way I like them. Not a cold fish at all."
He pointed the gun at Batman.
A batarang knocked the gun out of his hand, and a jumpline wrapped around the Joker's neck; Batman yanked,
and the clown toppled over the edge and landed at Bruce's feet. He pulled the
Joker up by the thin cable, looked once into the grinning, crazy face. His
fist, still wet with Diana's blood, slammed into the clown's nose, crushing
cartilage and bone, forcing the mess into the Joker's brain.
Bruce let go
of the jumpline, and the Joker flopped over like a
used Whoopee cushion. Bruce didn't look at him again. He picked up the lasso,
moved to Diana's body and placed it back on her belt, then lifted her carefully
and began the trek up the mountain, taking one death with him, and leaving one
behind.
***
The goddess
smiled. Diana watched her warily. Around them, Amazons fought encroaching
shadows.
"Your
psyche is fascinating, Diana." Eris' eyes
gleamed with pleasure. "Here we are in a peaceful setting reminiscent of
the Elysian Fields, yet you have Amazons making war. You have made my task
easier. Discord is all around us."
"You'll
find plenty of contradictions in me, Eris,"
Diana said. "But you will not be able to use them against me." She
gestured toward the battling women. "They are fighting what you have
brought here. They do not fight for the sake of fighting alone."
"Perhaps." Eris stood, waved
her arm. Diana's armor changed to clothing, a simple linen dress. Diana held
herself motionless as Eris ran a hand over the
material. The goddess spoke again. "Do you know what I'm looking
for?"
"A cheap thrill?" Diana said dryly. She had to force
herself not to withdraw from the cold, searching hand.
Eris continued, "This linen is a manifestation of your mind. The
weave is created from the threads of your being, and I am looking for loose
ends." The hand stilled. "I believe I have found one. A young woman -- Vanessa. Once like your younger sister,
your negligence has allowed her to be transformed into a hideous, screaming
killer. Oh, Diana, how can you live with the guilt?" Eris
asked, voice melodramatic, accusing.
Diana's face
was impassive. "I was not the one who transformed her."
"Yet she
would never have been a target if you had not entered their lives."
"Perhaps
not," Diana admitted. She had exposed her first foster family, the Kapatelises, to a lot of danger because of her friendship.
"But they were my friends and loved me. They accepted my position; if I
ever felt that their fear overwhelmed their friendship, I would have
left."
"You did
leave and it didn't protect Vanessa," Eris
pointed out. She pulled on the thread she was holding; Diana felt it unravel on
the dress, inside her.
"If I
had stayed, there would be no certainty that Circe wouldn't have gotten to
Vanessa."
"But the
fact remains that your presence made Circe notice
her."
Diana
frowned. "Yes. But had I remained on Themyscira,
Vanessa might have died from other causes. I have protected her from dangers
that were not attracted because of me, like Circe is. And Vanessa is not dead
as the Silver Swan; she can still be saved."
"You
could have stayed apart from the family."
Shaking her
head, Diana said, "No, I couldn't have. If I don't live with the people in
Patriarch's World, I can never know them. And if I don't know them, or learn
from them, I can never help them."
"Help
them?" Eris laughed. She tugged on the thread, then tied another loose end around it. She waved it under
Diana's nose. "This string tells me that you have never helped the people
in Man's World." She sneered. "You have not accomplished
anything."
Diana almost
smiled. She had won the first argument, or Eris would
still be picking at her guilt over Vanessa. The goddess was like a maggot,
feeding off open sores and infections; she wouldn't move on unless there was
nothing left to consume.
"Pull
harder, Eris. You'll see that I have made a
difference. I know I have."
"In the lives of a few measly mortals. Where is the peace
you were supposed to bring?"
Diana clasped
her hands together. "It's in the future. Those few measly mortals you
talked of are the first step." Next will come the
questions about the paradox of being a warrior for peace, Diana thought. Eris must not have realized that Diana asked herself these
questions every day, the lasso wrapped around her. How long would this take,
she wondered. Hours? Days?
What was happening to Bruce?
Eris grinned and drew back. "Your threads communicate to me your confidence, and your worry for your companion. Phobos is controlling him."
"He beat
Phobos before."
Eris drew the threads tight and Diana's sleeve unraveled. "In
"He can
not be broken," Diana said.
"No?"
Eris' hair writhed as if alive; behind her, Diana
could see the Amazons fighting the creeping darkness. "Phobos
is the god of fear. He can give men fear … and he can take it away. He has
removed your companion's fears: his fear of losing control, the fear of
killing, the fear of losing his humanity, the fear that gave him purpose long
ago, the fear that created the part of him that is the Batman. And Phobos has left him with anger, and guilt, and hate."
"He
isn't just fear, and guilt and anger," Diana retorted.
Eris grasped another loose thread. "No, but he hides his love,
and his generosity and kindness. He won't fall back on them because he is too
accustomed to pushing those emotions away. You know this better than
most." She slid her finger along the new thread. "I can feel it here.
Your wish that he would open himself to your love."
Diana ignored
her. "You can not override his humanity."
"Oh, but
we can. We have." The goddess smiled again. "Batman just killed the
Joker in the illusion my brother has created for him. Because
of you."
"Me?"
"The
Joker killed and raped you, so Batman killed the Joker. Ah, what love makes men
do. Simple, really. Now he
exits the Underworld in his dream, and my brother Deimos
will give him the terror of the murder being discovered. To prevent that from
happening, Batman will do what he fears most."
"Kill,"
Diana guessed.
"Not
just that," the goddess laughed. "He is also afraid that those he
loves will be hurt or killed. Imagine his pain if he was the one who
killed those closest to him. Phobos will manipulate
both of his greatest fears, combining and exacerbating them."
"Monster,"
Diana whispered.
"Yes,"
Eris replied, "I believe I am."
***
Oracle stared
down at Bruce from his monitors. "If you didn't find the Joker, isn't it
possible that he became invulnerable and left?"
She knows. "No,"
Batman said. "Hades said he could tell that the Joker had never gone to
the Underworld. He would be dead from his disease by now."
Barbara
adjusted her glasses. "Do you think it is possible that the Joker was
killed by the thing that killed Diana, and Hades never realized it?"
She can
tell you are lying. She knows Diana was killed by a bullet, and the bullet must
have come from the Joker. "Perhaps that is true, but if that is the case then
there is no need to track him down."
"We
should ascertain that--" Oracle began.
"No!
This case is closed." Batman disconnected the transmission, then dropped into his chair, his head in his hands.
Oracle
will figure it out. You trained her to find facts, discover motive. She's
brilliant at solving crimes--even yours.
"Master
Bruce?" Alfred stepped into the cave. Batman lifted his head.
"Yes?"
"I'm
sorry, sir, I can see that you are still grieving for Miss Diana." Alfred
sighed. "It is a pity that you couldn't save her, and that you couldn't
avenge her death."
"I'm
sorry, too, Alfred." Batman watched his butler carefully. Was Alfred's comment a hint that he had guessed the truth and approved? He
knows you better than anyone. He knows.
Bruce's hand
shook; he tucked it under his cape. Alfred frowned. You're giving yourself
away. They know you are a murderer. Barbara will tell Dick,
then Tim, then Cassandra. Maybe even her father. And Alfred already
knows. "I'll eat with you in the kitchen tonight, Alfred," he
said suddenly.
If Alfred was
surprised, he didn't show it. "Very good, sir. It
will be ready at seven-thirty." The butler turned and left.
Batman
clenched his teeth, trying to resist, but still got up and took out his special
gloves and prepared the metracardazine. The drug
could save the life of someone who'd had a heart attack, or it could cause one.
It would be untraceable, painless and quick.
After all,
Alfred had been like a father to him.
*
Batman
crouched on the ledge, looking into the Clock Tower with his binoculars. Guilt
weighed heavily in his stomach, yet a smile played around the corners of his
mouth. He would be safe soon. You need to finish this, quickly.
He used the jumpline to swing across the alley onto the tower. Barbara
had been waiting for him, but she didn't expect the kick that broke her ribs,
the pieces of bone piercing her lungs. She fell onto the floor, flecks of blood
wetting her lips.
"Did you
tell them?" Batman demanded.
Shaking her
head, coughing, she tried to pull herself across the floor, to the weapons in
her wheelchair. He didn't want her to suffer, so he broke her neck.
You know
she told the others. They'll come looking for her when she goes offline;
they'll come looking for you. You can take them out one by one.
Dick's voice
crackled over the speakers. "Oracle, Nightwing
here. Status report." Then,
"Babs?"
Batman's
heart filled with despair and grief, but he readied the room for the fight
ahead. It looked like his son would be the first. Third, he remembered, then chuckled. What did it matter?
*
He could
still taste the bile in his mouth; he'd vomited when he had finished.
You know
what you've done. There's no way you can live with it.
Bruce stared
down at the concrete one hundred and fifteen stories below. The WayneCorp building was one of the highest in the city,
affording him a spectacular view of
You don't
deserve to be her protector.
There wasn't
any blood on his hands; he'd been quick and methodical. Yet he felt as if he'd
bathed in it, and that eventually it would the vision of his city incarnadine.
They will
all know soon. But you don't have to face your city's loss of faith in you.
No, Batman
realized, he didn't. The solution was simple: he could throw away his jumplines and walk off the edge. Even if he used his cape
to catch air, he'd be going too fast for it to do any good. It would be over.
After one last piece of unfinished business.
Bruce didn't
hear Superman land, but knew he was there before he turned around.
"What is
it, Batman?"
"Look
into Oracle's tower," Batman said. He knew what
Superman
turned to Batman, eyes agonized. "Who did it? Was your identity
compromised?"
"No, I
did it. Alfred's at the mansion." Why are you telling him? He knows
now, and you can't kill him. You can't hide anything from him.
"The
Joker killed Diana, so I killed him. They knew, and would have taken
"I'm
going to take
"Maybe." Batman smiled. "But you aren't taking me
from
"I have
no choice, Bruce. You know that." He reached out a hand, pleaded,
"Come with me without a fight. We'll get help for you."
Bruce dropped
into a fighting stance. "Try to take me."
Superman
stepped forward, said, "Hit me if you like, Batman. You can try to fight,
but you are coming with me."
"No,"
Batman corrected softly, "I'm not. I'm going to win." His fist shot
out, connecting with
Superman fell
back, but Bruce followed him, pounding at his head and body.
Batman
laughed when he saw how
What are
you doing!?
I'm going
back to hell, he answered, and stopped laughing a second
before Superman hit him with full Kryptonian
strength.
***
The linen
dress hung from her like rags.
Eris had intended to distract her by telling her about Phobos' plans for Bruce, Diana realized. And
had succeeded brilliantly. Eris had managed to
unravel most of her dress with a few inconsequential conflicting threads that
Diana should have been able to resolve: she lived in a luxurious apartment
while people were homeless and starving, she wasn't a virgin, she cried too
easily. All things that, Eris had argued,
demonstrated Diana's unsuitability as Wonder Woman. Worrying about Bruce had
cost too much, Diana thought as she looked down at her exposed skin; she should
have been able to refute those arguments with ease, rather then letting them
tear her up.
She felt Eris' confidence. The goddess was certain she was winning.
Diana wasn't certain Eris was wrong--Diana had lost a
lot of ground. The crux of Diana's spiritual self was in the field, with Diana
herself in the center. That was what Eris was
attacking, trying to take over. Once the darkness reached Diana, covered her,
she would lose. Diana looked around them, at the Amazons fighting, falling back
as the darkness slipped further and further toward the center. The Amazons
were, Diana knew, a manifestation of the defense of her inner being. There were
Bana-Mighdalls in their Egyptian armor and Themyscirians in white shifts; they were sisters that were
alive, and those who had fallen in battle over the years--Diana focused on one
face--including her mother.
Eris laughed with glee. "I've been waiting to get to this."
She reached in, grabbed the frayed edge of the torn dress. "Hippolyta."
Diana fixed
her gaze on the goddess, pushed thoughts of Bruce, Amazons, and darkness to the
back of her mind. She was going to win this. "My queen.
My mother."
"And
once Wonder Woman." Eris narrowed her eyes. "Although you didn't think so."
"I said
words to her which I regret," Diana admitted.
"You
gave in to jealousy, and anger," Eris said.
"Petty feelings for someone who calls herself Wonder Woman."
"Yes."
"You
didn't act very much like Wonder Woman then, did you?" Eris
yanked on the cloth; a large strip of the dress fell away. The Amazons to
Diana's left broke formation and the darkness rushed in to fill the space they
left. She could see the gleam of claws and teeth, felt the hunger that emanated
from the shadows. Eris continued, "You think
that you are the only one who should be Wonder Woman, don't you? Artemis, your
mother--both were the victims of your pride."
"I am
proud of being Wonder Woman," Diana said.
"You
aren't Wonder Woman," Eris challenged. She tore
at the dress, pulling cloth away until Diana stood naked in front of her.
"You've accomplished nothing. The only time you've stopped a war you used
Batman's methods, not Wonder Woman's. The Amazonian ideals that you spout have
had little affect on Man's World. You are petty, and jealous, and proud. What
Wonder Woman stands for is something better than you could ever be, or
hope to be."
"You are
not wrong." Diana felt the darkness nip at her feet. The Amazons had
fallen.
Eris' predatory smile flashed in the shadows. "I have shredded
every belief you have had, Diana. The evidence lays at
your feet. Your defenses are shattered. You are nothing. Give in to me."
"No,"
Diana stated quietly. She reached out and snatched the goddess by the neck. The
shadows around her hesitated. Diana stared into Eris'
surprised eyes, said, "Wonder Woman is not just the 'Wonder'. She's also
the 'woman.'" Eris clawed at Diana's hand around
her throat, drawing blood with her nails. Diana didn't flinch, didn't
relinquish her grip. "And at the core of every woman is a human. A human who has faults." Diana squeezed. "Call off
the darkness; get out of my mind. Or I'll destroy you here."
"You …
nothing," Eris wheezed. "Not
… human. Clay."
Cocking a
brow toward her bleeding hand, Diana replied, "Then why do I bleed? Why do
I love and hate, fear and hope? I am as human as Batman, as anyone. Every
single one of the things you claimed were faults make
me more human, more Diana, and a better Wonder Woman."
"Not Wond … woman." Eris'
voice was weaker. "…perfect."
"If
Wonder Woman is perfect, then she forgives. She forgives faults in others, and
gives them second chances. And she forgives herself, and learns from it. It
makes her stronger." Diana said. "You don't understand that, Eris. Which is why you lost here."
"Did not
lose," Eris grated out. But her hands fell away
from Diana's, the darkness receded.
"No?"
Diana grinned. "Then why are my Amazons coming back? Why am I dressed
again?'
Eris' eyes widened in
anger and shock. Diana's clothing had reappeared, but as a mixture of her uniform
and traditional Amazonian garb.
"I am
Wonder Woman, Eris. Now get out."
Diana's hand suddenly clenched on nothing. She sighed in relief
and looked around, at the Amazons staring at her in amusement and affection. Hippolyta stepped forward.
"Mother,"
Diana said, her tone respectful.
"Diana."
Hippolyta smiled. "You took a long time to come
to the right conclusion."
"Too long?" Diana wondered.
Hippolyta shook her head. "No. Just long enough. Something
important should not come easily." She stepped forward, embraced Diana.
"Now go. I'll be here if you need me."
Diana
remembered Danielle Nichols, how she had said her mother would live in her--the
memory of her mother, at the very least. "I'm sorry, Mother."
"I
know." Her voice was gentle, then became that of
a queen. "Now, go, Diana. Wonder Woman."
*
"Hey!"
The fierce whisper broke through the silence. "Lady, wake up!"
Diana opened
her eyes, looked into the anxious face of the Joker. He was tied to a rock with
her lasso.
"Hurry,
they are distracted by something." The Joker glanced behind him.
"That woman showed up just a few seconds ago."
Diana's gaze
followed his, saw Eris
pacing back and forth in front of Phobos and Deimos--who held Batman between them. As far as she could
tell, Bruce was unconscious. She looked down at herself; she had all of her
weapons, but knew the gods had the upper hand in swiftness and strength. She
needed a plan.
"Don't
just sit there, lady, untie me so we can go," the Joker demanded.
"Then you can tell me what is going on here."
Diana
frowned. Lady? Not Wonder Babe or some other Jokerized cute name? "I'm not going to untie you
yet," she said. "Not until I get Batman."
The Joker
snorted. "Batman? Is that his name? Ridiculous. And who am I, by the way?"
The Lethe
water, Diana remembered. It would erase all of the Joker's memories for a few
hours, then eventually they would return, except for
the last month's. The Joker didn't know her, or Batman. "Your name is Bob.
Batman's a friend of yours," she lied.
"He
is?" The Joker looked interested. "I couldn't help but notice my own
outrageous clothing. Are we actors, or something? "
"Or
something," Diana replied, distracted by Phobos'
sudden gesticulations.
The Joker
watched, too. "Those two have been standing over the batguy
for about an hour now. What are they doing to him?"
"Trying to break him."
"They
should try a heavy rock, it works best." Diana glanced at him sharply; the
Joker shrugged and grinned. "Just a joke. Trying to make the best of a bad situation."
She heard the
gods' voices, she motioned the Joker to be quiet.
"He is
fighting him now!" Phobos was yelling at Eris. "We can not stop him."
"Fools. If he dies in battle, his soul will remain
intact. It must be suicide born of despair and fear. We have already lost one
host." Eris gestured toward Diana. "I could
not take her."
Deimos sneered. "You could never control any host, Eris. Discord is nothing next to the power of terror."
"You
lost the clown before, Deimos. You are no better than
I."
Deimos smiled, his reptilian hair hissing. "But this time
the clown is not tainted with his madness and memories. There is nothing for
him with which he can resist."
"No,
there is not," Eris said thoughtfully.
"We may
not lose Batman," Phobos interjected. "He
has the upper hand, he is killing the Superman."
Diana gritted
her teeth, hoped that Batman knew what he was doing.
"Perfect."
Eris rubbed her hands together. "If he murders
the brightest light on Earth, who is also a friend, he would have ever the more
reason to despair. And we would still have two hosts."
Two hosts. Three gods. Diana smiled.
"No!
What is he doing?" Phobos dropped Bruce as if
burned. "He just--"
Batman's foot
cut off the rest of his sentence, knocked Phobos
backward. Diana stood, ready to rush forward to help, but Bruce dodged Deimos grab, flipped over Eris
and backed away from the trio until he was beside Diana.
"We
can't beat them fighting," Diana said in a low voice. "They didn't
even really try to get you just now."
"I
figured as much," Bruce returned, never taking his eyes from the three
gods. "What now?"
One host. Three gods. "We have no
choice but to give up," Diana said. And let nature take its course, she
added silently. The gods' natures.
***
He was going
to be limping for a couple of days, he thought. He'd landed on a rock when Phobos had knocked him from the horse, and the subsequent
unconsciousness and inactivity had left the bruised muscle stiff and tight.
And, tied as he was to Diana, he couldn't move his arms to massage some of the
ache away.
It would be a
painful getaway if they had to run out of there.
The Joker had
tried to escape three times since he'd been released from the lasso, but each
time one of the gods had caught him easily and brought him back to the center
of their circle. They were strong and fast. Batman watched them now, Eris, Phobos and Deimos standing around the Joker, arguing.
They'd been
arguing since Batman had gotten out of the nightmare they'd created for him.
"I'm
glad you are all right," he said suddenly, then
frowned. He hadn't meant to say that. "Dammit."
He felt
Diana's chuckle, her back vibrating against his. "Don't worry,
I won't hold anything you say with the lasso around us against you."
"I can
probably untie us--" he twisted his hand around between them, trying to
create some slack, "if you--"
"No,"
Diana interrupted. "They didn't kill us because, in their vanity, they'll
eventually try to break us again. The lasso affords us some protection; its
truth won't allow them to get inside us while we are in its bindings." She
paused. "And I'm glad you are all right, too. How did you break the illusion?"
"Simple forensics. Too much blood from an injury the Joker said
he did after he killed you. Without the heart beating, there wouldn't have been
such massive bleeding. It was an obvious attempt to twist my emotions so that I
would take revenge. I played along until I saw a way out." He watched as
the Joker crawled between Phobos' legs toward Diana
and him. Diana had told him the Joker hadn't regained his memory yet--but an
hour had passed since then. The memories could return any time.
The Joker
reached them; Batman tensed, ready for anything, but the Joker just sat next to
Diana, watching the three gods fight. "They keep arguing over me,"
the clown said.
"They
all want to get out of here," Diana said, "but only one can leave.
It's a power struggle."
"Who
will win?" Batman asked.
"Whoever
has the apple, which is probably Eris. She would have used the power to re-animate Deimos and free Phobos from the
wheel, but she wouldn't trust them with the actual apple."
"An apple?" Joker questioned.
"A
golden apple," Diana explained. "If you see it, try to get it to us
so that we can destroy it. If it is destroyed, the power that fuels them will
be gone." She glanced toward the gods, whose argument had become more
heated. "They'll start fighting soon. That will be the best time to
escape, when they are occupied beating each other."
Batman liked
the idea of draining their power better than running and hoping they wouldn't
notice in the fight. "How is the apple destroyed?"
"Crushing it, splitting it, anything."
"Eating
it?" the Joker wondered.
"No,"
Diana shook her head vehemently. "If one of the gods ate it, they'd be
okay and it would just tie them to the mortal world, since that is where it
originated; but if a mortal ate it, it would tear their mind apart. It is an
Apple of Discord, after all."
"From an apple?" The Joker laughed, then
turned to Batman. "Does this happen to us everyday?"
"No."
The lasso wouldn't let him feed a lie to the Joker.
"Good,"
the Joker smiled. "I think I am remembering some things, though. You and
me, in a play, I guess. I was the bad guy."
Batman
clenched his teeth; behind him, Diana was silent as well.
The Joker
continued. "A real maniac, actually. Pretty funny in some ways, but pretty horrible in others.
There is one I remember where I had a crowbar and was…." He looked between
Batman's set jaw and Diana's bent head. "I'm not an actor, am I?" His
tone was resigned.
"No,"
Batman said. "You're an insane monster."
The Joker
nodded. "I thought the memories were too … real. Special effects are not
that good." He sighed. "I'll go back now. If I see that apple…"
"I'm
sorry," Diana said. "I wish we could tell you something else."
She really was sorry, Batman thought. He wasn't sure if he was.
He watched
the Joker crawl back to the middle of the circle, then leaned the back of his
head against Diana's. "If Eris wins, and gets
into the Joker, then what?"
"Then
she'll probably kill us," Diana said, then laughed. "I was going to
be more optimistic just now, but…" He felt her shrug. "…the lasso.
The good news is that she probably wouldn't be able to stay in him. In a little
while he'll have all of his memories back, and she won't be able to hold onto
his mind."
A thunderous
clap sounded; Deimos had struck Phobos.
"Here we
go," Diana murmured.
Batman
watched the fight even as he worked furiously at their bindings. Maybe Diana
was right, that the huge scale of their battle would distract them long enough
to escape. In any case, he wanted his movement back, safe in the lasso or not.
The bindings
suddenly loosened around him; he frowned. He hadn't done that. Sneaking a
glance at Diana, he saw her smile.
"Well,
it's my lasso," she whispered quickly. "How could anyone
really tie me up in it?"
He wanted to
laugh, but silently got to his feet, calculating their best options. He needed
to get the Joker, but Eris was holding him to the
side while she watched her two brothers. The mountain trembled as Phobos slammed Deimos against the
ground; the tremor made the Joker fall against Eris,
tangling in her robes. She swatted him away like a fly.
Good, Batman
thought. The more distance between the Joker and the gods, the better.
"Diana," he whispered, and pointed to a ledge above the Joker.
"I'll get him from there."
She held up
her lasso in response. "I've got a better idea; we'll go fishing."
The loop
settled neatly around the Joker's shoulders, and Diana started to slowly draw
him back, trying to keep Eris from noticing him. The
Joker, Batman noticed, was smiling. The apple gleamed in his hand.
"Maybe
he's a natural-born thief," Diana whispered.
Eris turned then, saw the two heroes free of the lasso; Batman sprang
forward, but he wasn't fast enough. The goddess caught him, held him up by his
throat, her back to the Joker. A sharp word from her, and the brothers stopped
fighting, and held Diana between them less than a second later.
Eris smiled at him. "Very impertinent of you
two, trying to take away our host and escape." Batman stared over
her shoulder. The Joker stood, looked anxiously between Batman and Wonder
Woman. Could Batman trust him? "Maybe we should make your nightmare real,
Batman. We could end up with two hosts if we play it right. Make you watch. I
guarantee you'll break when she curses your name."
Batman's eyes
met the Joker's.
"Kill
her," Eris ordered.
"Wait!"
Eris turned at the Joker's yell, amazement plain on her features, then
anger when she saw the apple the Joker held. "Worm," she seethed.
"Destroy
it, Joker." Diana's voice rang out.
The Joker
looked desperately around him; he had no weapons to destroy it with, Batman
realized. Eris must have, too, because she relaxed,
and smiled again.
The Joker
asked, "I'm already insane, right?"
Batman
managed the best nod he could with Eris' hand wrapped
around his neck; at the same time, he heard Diana's answer:
"Yes."
Determination
crossed the Joker's face and lifted the apple to his lips. Eris
shrieked with rage and dropped Bruce, but she was too late to stop him from
biting it in half, frantically chewing, swallowing.
Bruce landed
in a crouch, leg muscle screaming, swung around. Eris
was gone. Behind him, Diana was free from the brothers, who had also
disappeared. Finally, he looked at the Joker.
"Hey, Batsy," the Joker said, giggled, and passed out.
***
Diana
hesitated, then punched in the transporter coordinates
before she changed her mind again. It was business, she told herself. Just wrapping up the case. Wanting to see Bruce had nothing
to do with it.
Well, almost
nothing. She hadn't seen him since he'd left
She stepped
into the transporter and activated it, arriving instantly in the cave. Bruce
was expecting her; he had turned his chair toward the transporter. She lifted
her eyebrows in surprise at his mussed hair, jeans and t-shirt. And, she noted,
bare feet.
"Alfred's
gone today," he said.
"So you
take advantage of that to dress down? A rebellion of
sorts?"
"No."
A calculating look entered his eyes. "It's my way of keeping him with me.
On one of these days off, he might realize how much easier life is without me
and take off permanently; but, if he remembers what happens to the Manor and me
when he's gone, and the mess I make, he'll feel obligated to keep coming
back." When Diana laughed, Bruce added, "You should see the
kitchen."
Diana shook
her head, grinning. "No thanks. My sympathy level is already at its
maximum where Alfred is concerned; if I saw the kitchen, I just might have to
rescue him out of pure human kindness."
"And put
him up at your own place."
"Oh, of course. A purely altruistic
endeavor. I couldn't leave the poor man unemployed after saving him from
your clutches."
"His
cooking has nothing to do with it whatsoever."
"No, but
his ability to stitch wounds might." Diana paused, then
said, "I actually came down here to find out about the Farletti
and Nichols case. Will the police be able to charge Medea
with anything?"
"Aiding
and abetting, at the very least, for helping the Joker escape. Plus, I am
tracking down the poisons used in the apples. If I can connect her purchase to
the poison, it'll make a more solid case for the murder. She'd be charged with
accessory then."
"That's
something, though hardly enough," Diana said.
"It
rarely is." Batman's eyes never left her face. Diana looked away.
"You could have asked me this over the communicators."
Diana
shrugged. "I could have, but I thought I'd go see Danielle Nichols and
tell her what I could about the Joker's capture, to comfort her a little, and
eat any brownies she offered. So I was coming to
"Oh,
ridiculously," Bruce agreed.
"Hmm,"
Diana said. She clasped her hands in front of her, then put them into the
pockets of her slacks, shifted her weight from foot to foot. She probably
looked, Diana thought, like she either had to use the restroom or was a nervous
schoolgirl. She started pacing, hoping it looked less absurd. The diplomat, warrior and former princess, wondering how to make
small talk. She looked down at her casual shirt and pants. "How's
the weather today in
Bruce lifted
an eyebrow. "Sunny. And the Yankees are playing in
Diana stopped
mid-pace. "Really? I thought the season was
over."
"It
is." Batman leaned back in his chair, steepled
his fingertips. "You're not here because of Farletti
and Nichols, Princess."
"No, I'm
not. But I'm not sure why I'm here, exactly." Diana, frustrated, ran a
hand through her hair, then looked up to meet Bruce's gaze. "Yes, I do. I
want to know how you are doing."
"My leg
hurts. How are you doing?"
Diana
snorted. "I meant, how are you doing after whatever it was that happened
in the little nightmare Phobos concocted for
you."
"I'm
fine, Princess."
"Really? Because even if you knew it was an illusion,
it wouldn't have been easy to follow along with their little plan, killing
everyone close to you."
Bruce surprised
her by laughing. "Even if they hadn't messed up with the blood from the
rape, I would have known something was wrong, because of one simple thing: the
idea that I would kill my family--even think of it--is ludicrous."
"They
were trying to combine two of your worst fears," Diana said. "Killing and your family dying."
"I
assumed as much," Bruce nodded. "The god of fear would have used the
best ammunition, but he didn't consider how those two fears would
interact."
"Oh."
Diana pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, decided he really didn't need
her there. She glanced toward the tunnel that led outside. "Since you are
fine, I'll be running along. Mind if I go out the cliff exit?"
"Actually, yes." Bruce reached behind him, grabbed an
object that had been sitting on the console. A flashlight, Diana realized.
"There's something I want to look at, and you could help me." He got
up, walked over to the edge of the cave floor.
Brow
furrowed, Diana followed him and peered down. Darkness.
"What did you want to look at?"
"The
bottom," Bruce said. "You can fly me down there."
"I
charge twenty-five dollars a ride," Diana said.
Bruce smiled,
and Diana had to remind herself that she couldn't throw him to the floor and
have her way with him. Yet. "I think I can come
up with that much," he said.
"Fifty.
There's the ride back up, too." Diana grinned and wrapped an arm around
his waist, lifting them both into the air, then began to descend. She set a
slow pace, in no hurry to go anywhere else for a while. They sank past the
lower levels of the cave which stored the large vehicles and generators.
"This is bigger than I realized," Diana commented.
"One can
never be too prepared."
"How did
you manage to have all of this constructed without anyone noticing? And who
constructed it for you?"
"Wayne
Enterprises often completes classified contracts for the government. This
followed the same rules: blind transport, no one going in or out. Most of it
was built off-site, though, and brought here piece by piece." He shifted
against her and turned on the flashlight, shining it past their feet. The
powerful beam revealed nothing. "If you have a couple hundred million, I
can have one built for you." She heard the humor in his voice.
Diana
grinned. "No, thank you. If I ever need solitude, I prefer warmth and
light. No fortresses of ice or caves for me."
"Just Wonderdomes."
"It
served its purpose, even though it's better put to use elsewhere since the
war." Remembering that Batman had once told her to throw it into the sun,
she added, "And during the war."
"Heh. Maybe."
Bruce clicked off the light. "We should come upon the second colony of
bats soon. Some live in the cave's ceiling, and some are down here. We don't
want to disturb them, so we'll leave the light off for a bit."
"Good
idea." Diana didn't like the idea of thousands of startled bats overhead,
and no umbrella. "Is the Joker back in Arkham?"
"For
now," Bruce said.
"Since
we've been back, I've wondered if we shouldn't have just erased all of his
memories," Diana said. "He might have shown some signs of imbalance,
but it was without the violence or complete disregard for life."
"It
might have saved a few lives in the future; then again, it might not
have."
"What do
you mean?"
"I don't
know who the Joker was before he became the Joker. I don't know if something
happened to him and he snapped, or if he was just is wired so wrong that it
wasn't any one thing, but inevitable."
"Predestined?
I find it hard to believe that you might buy into that, Bruce."
"Not
predestination or fate. Everyone has the capacity for violence and insanity,
and if the chemicals are wrong and the brain can't repress urges, then yes, it
is almost inevitable that the person could become socio- or psychopathic."
Diana
considered that. "So you think that even without his memories, the Joker
would have gone down the same path? Ended up the same?"
She felt him
shake his head. "No. He might have, though." He sighed, his breath
brushing past her neck. "In any case, with or without his memories, I
would hold the Joker responsible for what he's done, no question about
it."
"But, if
the memories did make him violent, if we had taken them away permanently would
we enacting justice against the wrong man?"
"I see
your point," Bruce said. "But on the other hand, maybe the best--or
worse--punishment would be to make him sane, then let him know what he's done,
so that he'd try to make amends. Right now, his incarceration is just a brief
pause in his big, joking life."
Diana nodded.
"Yes, although he would run the danger of becoming insane
again from the guilt of being the Joker, and you have the same dilemma
as before. I don't know if someone can live with that much guilt and still
function. How many people has he killed?"
"Directly or indirectly?" Bruce grimly recited
two numbers that made Diana's heart ache and her anger rise. "And those
are just the murders I've positively identified as his. There are many more possibles that don't have enough evidence to be sure."
He flicked on the light again; they were past the bats, but still couldn't see
the bottom, just the rocky walls revealed in the circle of light.
"He
saved our lives," Diana said quietly. "He willingly embraced the
madness of the Joker to save us."
She saw his
bitter smile in the diffused light. "Seems I was wrong
when I said he was like this cave, then. All dark, no
capacity for good."
"I
suppose it would be worse, though, to be deceived into thinking that someone is
good, when they aren't," Diana said.
Bruce's eyes
met hers. "I think it is worse to know that the good is in him, and he
just can't or won't stop killing."
Diana
frowned. "Maybe. It's depressing that, in him at
least, the inclination for evil is more powerful than the inclination for good.
But it isn't a sign of the larger picture, Bruce. Most people don't get their
laughs by hurting others, and good usually prevails." She glance at him. "And I know you know and believe that.
When Mageddon had
"Who
told you that?" Bruce scowled.
Diana
grinned. "I'll never tell." She tilted her head, listened. "I
hear water."
"There's
a river under here that feeds into the bay," Bruce said. "We must be
nearing the bottom."
Looking down
into the darkness, Diana said, "I find it hard to believe that you don't
know what is down here. You would have checked everything for possible security
breaches."
"I know
what's down here, Princess. I've just never looked myself. I've always used
sensors and probes."
"Why the
sudden curiosity?" she wondered.
Bruce paused,
then said, "I wanted to see how much longer you would go without
mentioning that we had sex because of a spell a month ago, closely worked
together for a couple of weeks, journeyed through the Greek Underworld,
discovered we'd already broken the spell, the spent our last night together,
but never spoke of it afterward." He brushed a gentle finger across her
cheek. "You are usually much more direct, Princess."
Diana opened
her mouth to speak, then closed it. What could she
say? Please, I want you to admit your love for me despite your fear of
losing control? Please forget that you saw me murdered in a nightmare, and that
it made you kill someone, which probably made you more determined not to love
me in case it really happened? No. She wouldn't beg for his love, or his
time, and she wouldn't force him to give them to her.
"I fell
in love with you during that time," she said finally, "but that's all
I have to say about it, except that I won't let it burden you. And I don't
expect you to say or do anything about what I feel, either."
"How
generous of you," Bruce said.
Diana studied
his face, trying to decide if he was being sarcastic or if the comment was
honest, but his expression was inscrutable.
"There's
the river," he said. Diana looked down; the light glistened against the
water. He shined the flashlight ahead of them. "There's a cavern in front
of us, which my sensors have indicated is the size of an amphitheater. I
thought we'd take a look."
She floated
them forward; after a couple hundred yards, the walls widened. Above them, the
ceiling domed a hundred feet above their heads. The beam from the flashlight
sparkled and reflected across the face of the rock, bits of light twinkling
like stars in the walls and ceiling.
Diana
breathed a sigh of pleasure.
Bruce smiled.
"It's the quartz in the granite. The parabolic shape of the cavern allows
it to reflect several times." He shined the flashlight downward, and the
twinkling disappeared. "There's a place to land." He pointed to a
flat piece of rock alongside the river.
She set him
down, took a step back, looked up. "This really is magnificent. Your own
little planetarium powered by 'D' batteries."
"Diana."
She
hesitated, then looked over at him. She'd had a
feeling he wouldn't let the subject of the spell and their night in the
Underworld be laid to rest. She didn't look forward to whatever he had to say.
"Yes?"
He was
casually leaning against the cave wall, but she could see the predatory gleam
in his eyes in the dim light. It was the look he usually had when he was
explaining to villains why their plan was going to fail in the very near
future. The look he wore when he implemented his counterattack.
"I have
an alert that tells me when someone tries to use my transporter," he said
conversationally.
"Do
you?" She tried to sound uninterested. "How handy.
The Watchtower has one, too."
"You
entered the code for my location twelve times before you actually came
here."
Inside, she
winced. She'd forgotten about the alert system. Stupid, but
understandable. She had a lot on her mind--most notably the man who was
now walking toward her. She watched him, decided stalking was a better
description. "Thirteenth time is a charm on
"Do you
know what I think, Princess? I think that you changed your mind, over and over,
about coming down here to seduce me."
Diana's eyes
narrowed. "Your arrogance astounds me."
He drew
closer, stopped less than a foot away. She stood her ground. "You are an
Amazon, Diana. Yet here you are, with your 'I'll sacrifice my love for you,
Bruce'--and it must be killing you."
"Are you
mocking me? My emotions?"
"No."
He took a final step forward so that she was forced to tilt her head back or
look at his nose. "I'm wondering why you are repressing the part of you
that wants to lay claim to me. The part of you that told me you'd be angry if I
loved you and stayed away."
Diana stared
at him, amazed, furious. This time she was the one to step forward; it pushed
him back one step, two. "What am I supposed to do? You leave a bed still
warm from our lovemaking, which happened after you told me you could never love
me. You tell me that you can't love me or you'll lose control and kill someone.
You have a nightmare where I die and you do just that. You don't want anyone in
your city; am I supposed to disregard that and impose myself on you?" Her
voice had risen; it echoed around the cavern. "You are right, Bruce. I was
up in the Watchtower, trying to decide whether to come down here and try to
break through the ice you keep around yourself. I want you. I want you so much
that I thought of scenarios, seductions, different clothing, even
damn perfume." She shook her head vehemently. "But none of those
things were me, and I knew they wouldn't affect you. Those are things
the
"Like
you are now," he said mildly.
"Yes!"
she shouted. "And then I was going to convince you, through any means
necessary, that just because I died in a illusion
didn't mean that you would kill someone in real life if the same thing
happened. That you wouldn't give in to that temptation, and that loving me
would make you less likely to snap and kill someone, because giving into lust
or love does not mean that you'll lost control over your sense of humanity and
honor." She took a deep breath, then continued
more quietly, "Besides, part of that worry stemmed from your belief that
the Joker didn't have anything good in him--but he does. Everyone does,
especially you. So everyone is safe from whatever you think will happen if you
allow yourself to love me."
"I
know."
Diana blinked
in surprise. "You do?"
He frowned.
"Of course I do. I constantly over-analyze myself, and I've been doing
little else since Hades' throne room."
She stared at
him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Then why did you make
me yell at you?"
His frown
deepened. She could almost see his costume and cape swirling around him; he
looked like he did at a JLA meeting. "Because it won't
be easy. I'm stubborn, I don't like people questioning my methods, I am
used to solitude except for when I'm playing Bruce Wayne, I have specific ways
of doing things. I would argue with you, frequently, and if you just accepted
what I had to say in that self-sacrificing manner, so that you wouldn't burden
me with what you really feel, it wouldn't work. You'd hate me in a week."
Diana's
eyebrows raised in confusion. Was he outlining reasons why a relationship would
never work, or warning her that they were going to be at each other's throats
in one? "Could you clarify?" If it was his attempt at telling her he
loved her and wanted to try something, it was the least romantic method she'd
ever heard.
She'd take
it, though.
He ran a hand
through his hair, tried again. "I'm emotionally distant sometimes."
"I've
noticed."
He slashed her a troubled glance. He was, she realized, very
uncomfortable. Continuing, he said, "When I get emotionally distant, I
push people away. If you accepted that, said you wouldn't make me open up to
you, it wouldn't work. You'd resent me. But if you fight for me, don't let me
push you away, it will work."
She
understood suddenly. "Because things worth fighting for
are the most important. If I didn't fight for it, there's no hope."
"Exactly." He rubbed the back of his neck, as if he'd
been tense the entire time. "And I will try not to push you away in the
first place."
His way of
fighting, Diana realized. Her heart soared, but she said casually, "And if
you do, I'll tie you up with the lasso and make you my love slave until you
give in."
He nodded, as
if seriously considering her comment as a method of action. "That might
work, although I'd resist at first."
"We can
practice," she suggested.
He laughed.
"I would take you up on that, but I've got work, and you've got to go see
Danielle Nichols."
"I'll
bring you back a brownie." She paused. "Will I see you tonight?"
He shook his
head. "I have a meeting tomorrow in
"Tomorrow,"
she repeated. "I'll be waiting for you."
***
She was
exhausted when she finally arrived at the penthouse. He was waiting in a corner
of the darkened room. She wanted to go to him, but she sat on the edge of the
bed instead, started pulling off her left boot. "You saw?"
"It
managed to feed into the news channels I run in the cave." He didn't mention
he'd picked up on the alert instantly--he'd set his computer to warn him when
she was in a major battle.
She rubbed
tired hands over her face, but managed a smile. "I think I got through to
her, a little. It took her daughter to do it, though. I just happened to be
there to beat the sense into her."
"You
spared her life."
"I had
to," Diana said simply. She looked at him fully for the first time since
arriving. "Have you been waiting long?'
"No,"
Bruce said. "But I can only stay for a few more minutes."
She nodded.
"I know. I'll try to make it out to
He grinned.
"Don't apologize." He bent down, quickly removed her other boot, then efficiently stripped off her armor. "Goodnight,
Princess. I'll ravish you another day."
"Good,"
she said sleepily, and pulled the covers over herself. She caught his hand.
"Stay with me for a minute or two."
He crawled
into bed behind her, curled around her. "Only for a minute, though."
Diana nodded
against the pillow. She fell asleep an instant later.
Bruce
breathed against her hair. He waited a half an hour, until he was sure she was
sleeping soundly, then got up. Their missions might be
different, but they had the same effect on the mind and body. Tomorrow night,
he thought, she might be doing this for him, if he let her. If
she made him.
He bent down,
pressed his lips to her forehead, then opened a window, and slipped out into
the night. She'd be in
THE END.