DISCLAIMER: The Justice League of America
characters are the property of DC Comics. The story contents are the creation
and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2005 by Djinn. This story is Rated
R.
Exorcising Demons
by Djinn
Old Eyes, Young Face
I was born of earth. Tamped down by shaking
hands, dirt held in place by the tears of a woman who wanted above all things a
child to love. A daughter--I was
hope in the form of a small clay child.
I was my mother's future. The
child she could never bear herself because her body would not hold life. She told me that and in the same breath told
me that she wished she'd given birth to a more normal daughter. She stopped short of telling me she wished
that I'd never been born. She wasn't
very happy with me at that moment.
She was often unhappy with
me, from the moment I defied her to get to man's world to the day she
died. I disappointed her as often as she
disappointed me. But is that not the way
with mothers and daughters? It didn't
stop me from loving her, or her from loving me.
Nor does it stop me from
loving my own children, even though they have at times frustrated me and
disappointed my hopes. As I'm sure I
have done to them. My
daughters and sons. None of them
born of my own body--like my mother before me, I was denied that. But then I never expected to be given the
power to create life. After all, I was
born of dust and tears, and reborn of some kind of
divine fairy dust when the gods thrust me out of
My rebirth. I remember it
even now. People still ask me what my
first thoughts were as I looked out on the Earth--my home once more. I tell them all the right answers, that I
felt relief, determination, a renewed sense of purpose, and hope. That I could not wait to be reunited with my mother. But it's not true. I thought of those things...eventually. But my first thoughts were of him. My husband. But he was not my husband then. He was someone else's husband then.
Kal. Kal-el of Krypton. Superman. My love.
I must have said his name out
loud, for he looks over at me, his smile quizzical. He holds his hand out to me, and I go to
him. His arms are strong--age has not
dimmed his might although there is some gray in his hair and deep creases at
the corners of his eyes. But they still
shine as blue as the first time I saw him.
I fell in love with him the first time I saw him.
I could have had him
then. But he scared me. I spent a lot of years regretting how I ran
from him. He has told me that he spent a
lot of years regretting that he rushed me.
Souls have a way of
recognizing their mates. Minds have a
way of overthinking such a treasure trove. Feet have a way of running the hell away.
"What are you thinking
about?" he asks as he pulls me to him for a kiss.
"Could you two
stop?" Lina, our oldest daughter,
is sixteen. We found her shortly after
our wedding, wandering hungry and cold in the northern reaches of
We teach them something but
not as much as they give back to us.
They are the link that keeps us tethered, that keeps Kal and me from
flying away forever. It was Bruce's
greatest fear. Our
disassociation, our potential detachment. He hated the thought that we'd pull away and
become something apart. Before he died,
Bruce made me promise that I wouldn't withdraw to the island or to Kal's
Fortress. Bruce never had any illusions
about my ending up with Kal. I think he
was just glad to have gotten in the way of that for a while.
That makes him sound
terrible. And I do not mean to do
that. He loved me. As much as it was possible to love someone, I
think he loved me. And he made me
stronger. But it didn't start out that
way. It started out darker. And I do not want to think of that now. I will focus on our last days together, when
our demons had been laid to rest and he was just the old man I loved so
much. The old man who was watching a
still-young woman sit by his deathbed. My tears were real, and he knew that. He'd spent years jealous of Kal, but I think
when Bruce was dying he knew that the part of my heart he owned would never be
shared territory.
"Find a way to
live," he said. "Find a way to
keep in touch with the pulse of humanity.
Bruce was wrong. Kal knew what it was to
be human because he knew Bruce. Bruce
was the living symbol of everything Kal aspired to be. The determination in the
face of overwhelming odds, and the ability to get up from a fight, ignoring
broken bones and torn muscles simply because he was needed. Everything Bruce did was hard. There was nothing super about Bruce. But he made it look effortless.
I loved him. So did Kal.
They were best friends. Only I
was Kal's best friend too. Not Bruce's
though, not at first anyway. It is
confusing trying to chart the tendrils of any relationship, let alone one as
odd as our little trinity.
Kal pulls away and studies
me. "You look so sad."
"I was thinking of
Bruce."
He smiles, but there was a
time when he would not have smiled at such an admission, and I would not have
been comfortable making it. There was a
time when I kept what I felt about Bruce to myself. That time is gone, thank all the gods.
"I miss him,
Diana." He hugs me close, and I
hear Lina sigh in a dramatic teenage way.
Kal chuckles, a rumbling sound that reaches to my bones. He nuzzles my ear, his breath making me
shiver as he asks, "Would you rather your mother and I didn't talk, Linishka?"
She laughs. "Yes.
It's embarrassing the way you two can't keep your hands off each
other." But she doesn't sound as
mortified as she would like us to think.
I steal a look over at her;
she is smiling and looks down quickly so I will not see. She has a boyfriend, or will have soon. A young man has been nosing around the
Embassy as Kal describes it. He is much
more protective of his daughters than I am.
Much more suspicious of the boys who come to pay
court. But then he was a boy
once too--even if never a human boy. He
understands their urges.
Lina stands up. "I have a friend coming over
tonight. We're going to watch movies."
"We'll watch them with
you," Kal says, all interest in me fleeing in the face of the invasion of
the adolescent daughter-snatchers.
"And you're babysitting tonight."
I smile, lean in and whisper,
"You're no fun."
"She's sixteen," he
whispers back.
"That's not what I
meant." I tell him what I had
planned for the evening--it involves a deserted beach and very little
clothing. I seal the deal with, "I
asked Artemis to baby-sit. She could drop
in on Lina and her friend a few hundred times during the evening to make sure
they're not misbehaving?"
"Have fun tonight,
Lina. Your mother and I are going
out." Kal has a silly, dreamy look
on his face, and Lina shakes her head at me, but she laughs when I wink at
her.
She is singing under her
breath as she leaves, closing the door with a wink of her own, which makes me
smile. I am not worried about our
daughter. She knows there are limits. And if she forgets where those limits are, I
know Artemis can remind her better than I can.
Artemis says I have gone soft over the years. Needless to say, she has not.
"Do you remember when
you were that age?" Kal asks.
I nod but don't meet his
eyes.
He pulls my chin up
gently. He seems confused by my
evasion. "You were a virgin when I
met you."
I roll my eyes. "I had never
had...intercourse." It is a
technicality. Two bodies joined in the
way he is thinking, that is what I had never had. But there are other ways to love, as he well
knows, not that I plan on discussing them with him when his eyebrows are
already going up farther than I've ever seen them go. I laugh and trace them. "Have I shocked you, Kal?"
"I thought Bruce was
your...first?"
Even after so many years, I
can tell it still hurts him to say that.
Bruce was my first, and in Kal's mind it should have been Kal.
"He was my first
man." I move so I can straddle him.
He kisses me deeply. "This conversation probably shouldn't be
turning me on, but it is."
"You're such a typical
male under that superhero exterior."
He laughs, and looks at the
door with great concentration. Smiling,
I push myself out of his lap and walk over to turn the lock. Despite his sudden belief in his abilities,
telekinesis is not one of his superpowers.
"I'd have gotten
it," he says, from behind me, turning me and pushing me against the
wall. He pulls my clothes off, and I
return the favor.
"You are turned
on," I say, pressing against him.
"Did I do that?" My
smile is probably very satisfied. After
this many years, I know exactly what I do to him.
And he knows exactly what he
does to me. He thrusts into me, does not
check to see if I am ready for him--for all I know he can smell that I am. I've never asked him; it's more romantic to think
he has some lover's sense of that than that my scent changes when I am
aroused.
I wrap my legs around him,
and he steadies me with one hand, the other braced against the wall as he moves
with a force that might injure a mortal.
I only smile, throw my head back with abandon. I love making love with Kal. We waited for so long, and it could have been
awful when it finally happened. But it
wasn't. It was everything I'd ever
thought it would be.
He slows, his lips finding
mine, tongue questing and I hold him tighter, riding him this time. I can feel his lips turn up as I kiss him as
fiercely as I'm moving. He loves this
passion between us. He told me once that
even though he adored having sex with Lois, he was always aware of how he had
to take care with her. He could never
really let go, not like he can with me.
"So," he says, as
he pulls away just enough to watch my face.
"Tell me more about your evil adolescence."
"Pervert," I say, then I don't say anything more because I can feel completion
crashing in on me.
He holds me while I ride the
pleasure out, and when I collapse against him, he brushes my hair back, his
eyes soft. "I love you," he
whispers as he begins to move again.
Then his expression grows wicked.
"Now.
Tell me about you with a woman."
Blood of the Moon
"Princess,
pay attention." Meleke's voice holds more disappointment than
irritation. I am usually a good
student. Today, I have not been able to
hit the target in my normal fashion.
She takes the bow away from
me, steers me to the nearest bench.
"Tell your Aunt Meleke what's wrong."
I squirm out of her gentle
touch. I have imagined her hands on me
for months. The moon's blood may never
come on me, but her fever has marked me.
I feel something stir--something deep in my belly--when I think of
Meleke.
"You're sixteen
now."
I nod. It is well known how old I am. The whole island celebrates when I achieve
another year. I am everyone's child
here.
I hate feeling caught
somewhere between being a child and being a woman. Mother has told me I won't be a woman until I
bleed.
If I don't bleed, will I
never be a woman?
Dirt does not bleed. Clay vessels sweat, but they do not bleed.
I know in my heart that I
will never bleed.
"What is it,
Diana?"
"If I were a woman,
would you be interested in me?" I
do not mean to blurt it out so roughly.
"I mean...I have these thoughts about you..." I can feel that my face is scarlet. The blood that will not come out of me has no
problem finding my face.
Her smile is tender. "How long have you been feeling this
way?"
I shrug. Not a very mature way to answer, but I am
suddenly mortified that we are having this conversation.
"Diana, I have a
lover." Meleke leans down, kisses
my cheek. As if to make me feel better. To ease any discomfort.
It is far too late for
that. I can feel myself blushing even
more. "I didn't know."
"It is a new thing. I am happy."
And I am miserable, but I nod
and try to smile for her.
"Go do something
fun. Lessons are over for today."
I try to show some enthusiasm
for the freedom she is giving me, only I can't help but wonder if she just
wants the time off so she can be with her new lover. I walk away from her and can hear her
whistling softly as she puts the equipment away.
The palace is quiet, activity
sounding from mother's council chambers but silence reigning in the living
quarters. Kessia sees me come in and
leaves the fountain she is sitting by.
"Diana?" Her smile is soothing. She has been my closest friend for so
long. "Is something wrong?"
I sit down at the vanity in
my room, staring at myself in the mirror.
Meleke found someone else while I loved her. How could she? Am I not pretty enough? My mother tells me I am beautiful. Even among all these lovely women, I am
considered one of the most beautiful.
Why am I so hard to love?
"No one wants me."
Kessia sits down on the bench
next to me, and leans her head against mine.
She smiles at me in the mirror.
Her blonde hair lies in stark contrast to my own darkness, and I reach
up and stroke her fine locks. My hair is
coarse, not silky like hers.
"What do you mean no one
wants you?" She closes her eyes as
I continue to stroke her hair.
"Meleke has found a new
lover."
Her eyes open. "I wasn't aware you were interested in
her."
I nod miserably.
"I'm sure she's sorry
she didn't wait till she heard that."
Kessia laughs huskily. "Silly goose.
Don't you know we all love you?"
"Not that way. No one loves me that way."
"Some do." She smiles at me again, her eyes very
soft.
"Is it because I don't
bleed? Because I'm not
a woman?"
Her smile turning into
something that is not innocent, Kessia says, "I hear you at night. Touching yourself."
I look down. "This is not spoken of," I mumble.
"Yes, it is. We all speak of it. In the old days it was when a girl bled that
we told her...showed her things."
She sighs. "But it is not the old days and it has been so long
since any of us were young. We've had no
one to initiate."
"Who initiated
you?"
Kessia
smiles. "Daria."
I frown. "You don't even like her."
Laughing, Kessia shrugs. "I like her...we just don't get
along."
"You still see her for
that?"
"Not anymore. But I used to."
I lean in, resting my lips on
her neck. I can smell the Sillis flower she has rubbed on her neck; its heady
fragrance is a smell of comfort. "Why not anymore?"
I let myself kiss her. Her skin
is so soft under my lips.
She goes very still. "I'm interested in someone else."
"Lucky
woman." I pull away immediately--why is everyone
interested in someone else?
I reach for my hairbrush, and
she stops my hand, wraps her own around it.
"No, Diana. I would be the
lucky one if she was interested in me."
I meet her eyes in the mirror. I have to turn to see her face in truth,
touching her skin, memorizing the planes of her face. "You will initiate me?"
"I will." She leans in, her mouth soft on my neck. "It would be my deepest joy to do
so."
I twine my arms around her,
just as I have for years. But now it is
different. Now she is more than just my
friend. Why have I never thought of her
for this? As she pulls me up, I
frown. I love Kessia. I care for her deeply. But I do not feel the disconcerting passion
for her that I do for Meleke.
"What, Diana?"
"I do not...my feelings
for you..."
She lays her fingers over my
lips. "I know. That is better. For an initiation, it is better. Trust is good. You do trust me?"
I nod. That is an easy question.
Smiling, she stands up.
"Will my mother approve
of this?"
She looks down at me, as if
she does not understand why I would ask.
"She says I am not yet a
woman."
"You are. You are just...different."
"Can I tell her that we
did this?"
"If
you wish." She pulls me up to her. "So many questions. That is good.
But perhaps we could kiss before you ask more?"
I laugh as she draws me to
her. When I am nearly to her, she
stops. I realize she is giving me the
choice. I imagine the initiation will be
like that. Her
offering, me choosing to take. I
close the distance between us, feel her lips open under mine. It feels nice, but I am strangely
detached. But then she begins to touch
other parts of my body, her hands roaming gently, and any distance I feel is
gone.
She urges me to the bed,
works her way in stages until I am naked.
My robes come off only after they've been peeled back slowly. She is doing the same thing to me with her
mouth and tongue and fingers. It is the
same way I touch myself. Fingers finding places that respond, places to touch and explore. But it is different having her do it. It is better,
even if I feel very vulnerable spread before her.
But as she touches me again
and again, as I cry out and lay back against the pillows with a sated sigh, I
begin to feel a confidence fill me. When
she reaches for me, I say, "No. My turn."
Her smile is beautiful. I kiss her and then push her to her back,
removing her robes the same way she removed mine, touching her the way she did
me. And when she cries out, her fingers
clenching the sheets and my hair, I smile in triumph.
"Diana. You're such a good student."
I laugh. She has always praised me for that. I doubt she ever thought it would apply to
this situation.
As I cuddle against her, I
ask, "Have you wanted me for a long time?"
She studies me. Then she nods. "But you only saw others. And I did not want to push it." Stroking my face, she whispers. "This initiation. It is for one night only."
I can feel my face
falling. "You don't want me
anymore?"
She smiles, kissing me
quickly. "No, I don't mean
that. If you want me for a lover, it
will be up to you to tell me that. After
you have had time to think. After the rush of pleasure has worn off."
I nod, and reach for her
again.
She frowns, as if she is not
sure I am understanding. "What I mean is that you owe me
nothing."
"I will always owe
you," I say as I nuzzle her chest.
"No. This was freely given and freely
accepted. There is no obligation." She pulls me up, kissing me almost
desperately. "But I love you,
Diana. I shouldn't say that, but it's
true."
"I love you too."
Her eyes are sad. "You don't even know what love is yet,
my dearest. Tell me that in fifty
years."
"I know what it means. And I do love you. You are my greatest friend."
"That does not mean I am
your greatest love...the other half of your soul."
I look down because I do not
want her to see that I don't believe she is the other half of my soul either.
"Let's go to sleep,
Diana," Kessia says softly, and I realize that the initiation is over.
"I have made you
sad."
"No, Princess. If anyone has made me sad, it is I."
I can feel the distance
between us; she is using my title like a wedge to open a space in the bed we share. "Kessia, I don't want--"
"--Go to sleep,
Diana. Choose later. When you've had time to
think."
Crashing Waves
"So, did you choose
her?" Kal asks as we float in the water, watching the sun go down. The island I have picked out is deserted, and
the water is warm.
"Yes. But she turned me away for the first three
nights. She was never sure of
me." Like Bruce was never sure of
me at first. Always
expecting me to be gone, to go running off to Kal, but part of that was just
his furtive outlook coloring our early interactions.
"She must have missed
you when you left?"
"She didn't agree with
my decision to compete for the right to be Wonder Woman. She wanted me to bow out. She and my mother had remarkably similar
outlooks."
Kal turns me so I'm facing
him. We are naked, and the moon shines
down on us, lighting the night as the sun is swallowed up by the sea. Kissing him, I forget the past.
But he does not seem inclined
to let it go. "They wanted to
control you."
"They loved me."
"I love you. I don't try to control you."
"Well, not now you
don't. There was a time
though..." I smile. "Besides, you have the advantage. Being my soul mate, you've never had to
doubt."
His face
changes. "I've doubted. When you married Bruce..."
"You knew I still loved
you. I never stopped."
"But I lost part of you
that day. Actually, I lost it before then, it was just official that day."
"The part of me that
Bruce held. I don't think that was yours
to have."
He looks surprised at such
candor. Although Bruce is not a sore
subject any longer, we do not share these kinds of truths. But it seems to be a day for truths.
"I can't begin to
describe what it felt like to see you with him."
I stare at him as if he's a
moron. Which at times my husband is. "No?
I can describe it to you. It's how I felt every time I saw you and Lois
together."
"We had a chance. Before Lois. But you pushed me away."
"You practically ran in
relief."
"That's not
true." Kal is agitated. He does not seem to realize we are not
floating in the water anymore but in the air.
And going higher. I look up.
At our current speed we should hit thirty-five thousand feet just in
time to give a passing jetliner a moonlit look at our various assets.
"Love, we're
naked," I say, pointing to the approaching plane, "and I'm not
interested in becoming the main attraction of their in-flight
entertainment."
"Oh. Damn."
He is blushing the way only a
I laugh, kissing him. "What were we arguing about?"
He lets us float back down
closer to the water. We hover above it,
the same way we hovered above the frozen ground that first time he kissed
me. When we met alone
finally.
"Remember that first
kiss?" he asks, following my thoughts with an ease that used to surprise
me but now no longer does. His ability
to read me has saved our lives more than once.
"I do."
He touches my cheek and
smiles, but I notice that the past leaves lines of pain on his face. "I don't know why I rushed you that
way."
"Because you were
excited, and you acted on impulse. I
understand it now. Back then...I didn't
understand it at all. Love was a mystery."
"But you loved Kessia,
didn't you?"
"I loved her. I was
never in love with her. She was with me,
but I had the power. I was the one who
loved less."
He nods sadly. It is a lesson everyone eventually
learns. That the
politics of love can be terribly unfair.
"I never felt the
uncertainty with her. There was no fear." I touch his face, kissing him the way I
should have then but didn't know how.
"You terrified me."
"You terrified me
too." He looks down. "I think I might have been..."
"Trying to sabotage
us?"
He pulls me close. "Back then with Lois, I had it both
ways. She loved Superman;
I laugh. He's not wrong. It took me years to understand the game. Even more years to master
it.
"We barely said hello
and you were kissing me."
"I know."
"That's not really
showing much basic understanding of the game, you realize?" I laugh at his expression. "Sorry, Don Juan. Hate to burst your bubble."
"Okay, so I wasn't the
most experienced. Not compared to a
millionaire playboy." His voice has
the caustic edge that I thought we'd gotten beyond.
"Kal, I didn't mean..."
He sighs, lets us float back
down to the water. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't...but he was so much better with
women."
"And he dated Lois before you did."
It was a story Bruce liked to tell me when he was in the mood to hurt
me--or Kal.
"Yes. He did."
Kal releases me, swimming away from me.
I let him go. He needs to work out the pain he hasn't ever
let go of. He won't take it out on me;
it's not his way. Normally, he'll hold it
in and stew. Since it's an improvement
to see him pushing himself, letting the energy go in a less destructive way, I
lay back and float while he swims super-laps around me. I pity any of Arthur's subjects who get in
Kal's way.
Arthur is another subject
that Kal is not very comfortable with. I
should probably not bring him up tonight.
All the men of the League
have the potential to be a sore subject with Kal. Most of them desired me. Some of them even liked me. A few felt real love. Of them, Bruce and Arthur were the ones who
seemed to threaten Kal the most. I think
he knew the odds were good that I was not going to end up with Wally or
Kyle. I liked them both but we never had
much connection other than a professional friendship. And J'onn was too much like a big brother to
think about that way. And I'm not sure I
could live with a man who could read my every thought. It's bad enough sometimes living with the
super-voyeur.
"You
getting tired, sweetheart?" I call out as he passes me.
"No."
"Okey-dokey."
As he pulls away from me, I
can hear him laugh at my choice of words.
He gets almost out of sight before he slows and turns. He swims back to me and I wait, treading
water as he approaches.
"Do you remember
Asgard?" he asks as he pulls me to him, easing me back onto him.
"It's a little difficult
to forget a thousand years. Especially
with a man you're desperately in love with."
We are floating to shore, and
Kal leans back, ending up lying on the sand with me astride him. He stares up at the stars the way he did by
the fire in Asgard.
"I wanted you so badly." He pulls me down, his mouth locking on mine,
hard and possessive.
I know my lips will be
bruised in the morning. He slides his
hands off the back of my head and finds my waist, moving me up and down,
helping me find a rhythm that is almost violent.
Apparently, we are exorcising
all our demons tonight.
He breaks the kiss, his eyes
closed. "I could hear you in your
tent when you touched yourself. You
called out my name."
I can't talk, can only ride
him. Harder and
harder.
"But it wasn't always my
name," he says. "I'm not sure
which was worse."
In a thousand years, a girl
can get quite creative with her fantasies.
For Kal's sake, I hope that I didn't call everyone's name out. By the look he gives me, I think I may have.
"Diana, I...I..." He is at the point where he can't talk
anymore either, but he's still trying.
"Shh, Kal, shhh." I kiss him as
I come, kiss him until he does too.
When he can speak again, he
says, "Diana, when I got home. When
I made love to Lois that night, I pretended it was you. I think...I think I almost hurt
her." He closes his eyes, as if he
cannot stand what he has just said.
"You never told me
that."
"How could I? I resisted you for that long and then I do
that? What kind of man does
that?" He opens his eyes; they meet
mine with the hard honesty that is his best quality. He does not lie. He is capable of self-delusion and evasion
and omission. But he does not lie
outright. "She didn't know we'd
been gone. I pulled back as soon as I
realized that I'd let go too much. I
think she thought I was still upset over the argument she and I had over you
that morning. She had no idea I'd been
faithful for so long."
"Not until I told her
anyway." Not one of my smarter
moments. Although at the time, I was
still stinging from Trevor's rejection.
"I had a hard time
explaining why I hadn't told her. I
think that was when she finally figured out what you meant to me. When she thought back to the sex...and then I
wasn't there for her when she needed me."
"There was a war going
on. You had more to defend than just
her...or her father." Even now,
this makes me mad.
"Your
mother instead of her father? As far as Lois was concerned, I chose you,
Diana."
I nod. It is old ground. I still feel angry because I still feel a
little bit guilty.
"We almost split
up. But we worked it out. I guess we wanted that enough." He stops, as if he is not sure he should say
what he wants to, but then he says it anyway.
"And you had Trevor."
"Yeah. That went
well." Trevor. Nice man.
Whiny as hell.
But nice.
I don't know if I would have slept with him. I wonder what life would have been like if I
had?
So much
unsaid. I look at Kal, wonder if he can follow my
thoughts this time. I expect him to push
me off, to cuddle in his arms instead of letting me stare down at him, still
connected to him. Sometimes he doesn't
like this much closeness and scrutiny when the past intrudes, but instead he
pulls me down to lie against his chest.
His voice is so low, I can
barely hear him. "I want us to talk
about everything, Diana."
"Why?" It is a cowardly thing to ask. But we've been doing so well dealing with
things slowly. Pulling
the arrows out gently.
"We need to," he
says. "We're strong enough
to."
It does not surprise me
actually. Despite a tendency to wallow
in pain, Kal has always been a man who prefers to yank the arrows out. Which is not to say he
won't obsess over this for weeks--possibly longer. But it will all be out.
"Where do you want to
start?"
"Bruce."
Smiling, I lie motionless on
top of him. Of course he starts with
this; it's always been Kal's way to attack the strongest foe first.
"Diana?"
"Yes. All right. But let's just lie here for a while?"
His arms tighten around
me. "I love you. I wouldn't want to talk about it if you
weren't so important to me."
"I know." I ease my head up, rest my chin on his
chest. How long have I loved this
man? Did I love him before I even knew
him? Isn't that what is meant by the
other half of our soul? That we love
that person no matter what?
He smiles at me. It is the smile that won me. The smile that charmed me
utterly when we first fought together.
A combination of "aw, shucks, ma'am" and the utter certainty
that he is the most perfect male on the planet.
It's a deadly combination. I
think it's why Lois could never shake him.
Kal's personality seems obvious to the casual observer, but once you
scratch the surface, he is a mass of fascinating contradictions.
Like loving me for so many
years when he loved his wife just as much.
I always knew that he adored her.
Sometimes it made it easier. Sometimes not.
I imagine Kal felt the same
way about me and Bruce. He knew I loved
his best friend. It must have set him
free. And broken his
heart. All at
the same time.
"You want to know
everything?" I ask.
"I never really knew how you two came together. My view was imperfect."
"Even
with super-vision?" I smile to take any sting out of the
question.
"I didn't watch. I learned my lesson with Alcmaeon."
Another
painful chapter in our lives.
He is reading my face. "Bruce was there for you then."
"Yes, and you
weren't." It was the first chink in
the armor that plated my heart, that marked me as
Kal's--that he could believe so little in me.
But back then I still didn't understand love. Didn't understand what it could make you do
to the ones you loved.
"Was that when it
started?" he asks.
"No, it was after
Trevor, after the book came out, and Daniel Keyes was killed."
Kal nods,
then he asks, "Did you love
Trevor?"
I have told him before that I
cared for Trevor, but obviously he wants more now.
"In my
fashion." It is an answer that has no real meaning.
"Which means he was a
convenient way out from us?" Sometimes, Kal's ability to leap to the right
conclusion is annoying.
"Maybe."
"He never seemed right
for you. Always
complaining."
I see his grin. It is not a nice one. "Were you spying on me?"
"I wasn't the only
one. Bruce and Arthur
too." He laughs--Trevor is
evidently an easier subject to address than my first husband. He still doesn't laugh about Bruce.
"Trevor was taken away
before I was anywhere close to deciding."
"Is it bad to admit I
was happy about that?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm a bad
man. But you still ended up with
Bruce."
I touch his face. "Bruce and I came later. And our coming together probably wasn't how
you think."
"No? He didn't wine and dine you?"
I smile. "Every time he had the chance, he
ran. You know we almost hooked up before
that? When we went
back to find Arthur?"
"I knew something was
going on. Super-hearing can be a
bitch."
I imagine overhearing us
didn't help Kal understand what was going on.
Bruce wouldn't talk about it, and I was too inexperienced to push him
the way I should have. All Kal would
have heard was a lot of careful questions and uncomfortable pauses.
"He ran away from
me."
"Stupid
man." Kal smiles. He doesn't look terribly sorry for Bruce or
me. "So tell me"--he kisses
me, as if letting me know he's serious--"how it did happen."
Shot Down to Earth
"Is there a reason
you're in
I'm not sure why I came to
the Batcave.
It's clear from Bruce's body language that he isn't happy I decided to
pay him a visit.
"I like what you've done
with the place," I say softly.
"It has a real welcoming feel.
Are those new cobwebs?"
"What do you want,
Diana?"
I sigh and sit down next to
him. He still won't look at me. "Did I do something to make you
mad?"
"No." He reaches for a tool, but his aim is off,
and he won't look up to find it.
I hand it to him. "Why are you being like this? You helped me figure out what happened to
Keyes. Without your help--"
"--Yes, I was
invaluable. If you're here to thank me,
you didn't need to do that."
He has the ability to throw
me. His coldness sets my nerves on
edge. Part of me wants to smack
him. The other part wants to go into a
corner and cry--if the Batcave even has a
corner. "Sometimes, I hate you,
Bruce."
He stops working. "Sometimes, it's mutual." He does look up then, and his eyes are
angrier than I've ever seen them.
"What?"
He wrenches control back around
him like it's his cape. "Get out,
Diana."
I am trying to figure out
what I did to irritate him, but our interaction up to now seemed normal. Dysfunctional, sure. But that's normal for us. Walking over, I touch his shoulders gently.
He flinches as if I have
struck him. "Diana, don't."
It is as if he has dared
me. I tighten my hold,
begin to massage his shoulders the way Kessia liked me to do.
He is sitting so still he
could be a statue. "Diana, I'm
warning you. It's a bad night for
me. You don't want to push this."
"I'm just giving you a
friendly massage. Isn't that what we do,
Bruce? 'Friendly'
things? Isn't that what you
wanted?" I lean in,
notice that my breath on the back of his neck makes him shudder. "You don't want me, remember? You walked away."
He whips around faster than
I've ever seen him move. I am standing
over him one moment, pulled into his lap the next. And he is kissing me. With more anger than love,
but still kissing me.
Then he throws me away from
him--I keep my feet. Barely.
He goes back to his
repairs. "You think I don't know
why you're here?"
"I don't
understand. We worked so well
together." It has been nice working
with him again. It's been like it was
after he kissed me the first time--or the second time, if you count when we
first met...that strange, spontaneous kiss he gave me when he caught me bathing
in
"I'm not in the mood for
games tonight, Diana."
I am about to answer when I
hear, "Miss Diana?" I whirl; I
have not even noticed Alfred approaching.
He does not seem alarmed at
my expression. "Perhaps you would
like to come upstairs before you leave."
He shoots me a look that seems to say:
"Get out while you can."
"Diana can see herself
out, Alfred."
"Yes, Master Bruce. But she's never seen the house." It's a lie; Alfred gave me a tour of the
house the time Bruce invited me over for dinner and then stood me up.
But Bruce doesn't know
that. "Fine. Go see the damn house."
I follow Alfred up the
stairs. "What's wrong with
him?" I ask when we are safely out of range.
"You don't know what
today is, do you?" At my look, he
points up to the portrait of Bruce's parents.
I realize the way he is
pointing looks like a gun, and I feel a little sick. "I didn't know, Alfred." Bruce and I aren't friends. He doesn't tell me things like important
dates. Not even the most important date.
"He had a run-in with Catwoman today too, miss.
That always leaves him surly."
I hear something in his
voice. "He likes her?"
"Like would be such the
wrong word." Alfred walks to the
bar. "Can I offer you a
cocktail?"
"I don't drink," I
say, walking toward him. "So he
loves her?" How long has he loved
her? Why didn't he tell me he loved her?
Why aren't he and I better friends?
"I'm not sure love is
the right word either." Alfred
pours water into an exquisite crystal glass and hands it to me. "He is attracted to her. But she...infuriates him." He frowns, then
shoots me a small smile. "I might
say the same thing for you, Miss Diana."
I put the glass down; I'm not
thirsty. "Does he have any normal
relationships, Alfred? Other than with you?"
Alfred chooses not to answer,
instead pours himself something golden.
Breathing deeply, he seems to be drinking in the liquid through the
aroma alone before he takes a long sip.
"Don't tell him I'm into the bourbon, miss. I only do this once a year. And not to excess."
I nod, it may not be very
charitable of me, but I don't care what or how much Alfred drinks. He's always been the soul of responsibility,
and I imagine even falling down drunk he'd still be someone you could put your
full trust in. "Why is he mad at
me? I don't understand."
Alfred looks at me, an
intense look that holds none of his normal deference. "You really are an innocent, aren't you,
my dear?" Walking away, he stops at
the window, staring out into the night. "He's mean to you because he wants
you so terribly much."
"So if I walked back
down there...?"
"Oh, I don't recommend
you do that."
"But if I did?"
"He's in control...but
only barely. And of anyone I've known, you seem to slip past his defenses. It's a dangerous combination tonight. If you
go down there, he'll take what you're offering."
I feel my face turn red. "What if I'm not offering
anything?"
He turns, full of his own
kind of darkness. "Don't play
foolish games, child."
My blush only deepens. "I'm not a child."
"Oh, but you
are." He walks over to me. "He's in love with you. And this is the one night you don't want to
be near him. I've told you, and now I'm
going up to bed. What happens now,
that's up on you." Chucking me
under the chin, he smiles. It is an
expression full of weary experience.
"And you won't like it."
"He's not going to hurt
me."
"Not physically,
no." He sighs. "I've learned to leave him alone on this
night. If you're as smart as you're
reputed to be, you'll leave him alone too." He walks up the stairs, his steps slow and
heavy, as if his honesty has cost him something vital.
"Alfred..."
But he waves me away.
I should leave. I should listen. But I've never been good at obeying
orders. I've always found another
way...a better way. My
way. And my way is to reach
out. Bruce has always been the one to
pull back.
I walk to the hidden
door. I am about to open it when it
opens on its own. Bruce is there. He knows I'm waiting--he would never have opened
the door without checking to make sure the coast was clear.
His expression does not
change. "Were you coming back
down?"
I nod.
"Alfred didn't give you
the disaster briefing? He must be
slipping."
I swallow hard; I do not
think I like this Bruce. "He told
me some things."
"I'll dock his pay for
that."
I can't tell if he's
kidding. It doesn't seem like a kidding
sort of night. "Don't. He cares."
His eyes are dead as he looks
at me, as if he's waiting for me to say more, something that matters.
"Doesn't that move
you? How much he cares about you?"
I step closer. "How much I
care?"
He laughs. It is a mocking laugh and makes me stop in my
tracks. "Nice try, Diana but the
role of seductress wasn't made for little girls." He walks to the bar. "Or for liars. If you care about anyone, it's not
me." He pours a glass of bourbon
and throws it back. As he pours another,
he looks over at me. "The old man
thinks I don't know he drinks this.
Well, I know."
In a strange, darker echo of Alfred,
he walks to the window and stares out. I
stand frozen, nearly paralyzed by the overwhelming bitterness that permeates
this house. I've never felt it to such
an extent; tonight there does not appear to be a single warm thing in the
mansion.
"You think you can help
me, don't you?" he asks.
"I'm not sure
anymore."
He turns to me. "That's the first honest thing you've
said all night." Throwing back the
drink, he walks to the bar and barely slows as he sets the glass down on his way
to me. "You're off balance. Unsure. And I like it." He licks his lips, and I don't know if it's
to get the last bit of bourbon or if it's in anticipation.
I back up and keep going
until I hit the wall. He is smiling, but
it is an ugly expression.
"What did you see? In J'onn's
machine?" He is close to me
now, his body pressing against mine.
"Did you see this? Hmmm?"
I could push him away, could
stop him with one blow, and we both know it.
Alfred was right. This isn't
physical intimidation, even if Bruce is standing much too close. He's going for my mind and my heart.
"I saw us," I say.
"Yes? Were we happy, Diana? Was it all rosy sunsets and white picket
fences?" He reaches for my hair,
twists a strand around his finger.
Licking his lips again, he presses in and says, "Did you tell me
you love me? Did you delude yourself
into thinking you meant it? Or did I
have to share you with
"Bruce." My voice breaks. I have never seen him like this. And up to now, I thought I'd seen him as dark
as was possible. I should have listened
to Alfred. I'm not ready for this. I don't know what to do.
But I do know what to
do. I should do what I've always
done. Reach out. Or at least try. I can't let him push me sniveling into an
emotional corner.
I touch his cheek, gently as
if he was a deer about to bolt.
"Kal wasn't there." My
voice is low, soft.
He looks up at me. For a moment, I think I've reached him, but
then he laughs again--I hate that damned laugh.
"Well done,
Princess. I almost believed
you." Walking away, he sits down on
the couch, his arms spread out over the back, one leg crossed over the
other. He is the picture of disinterest. "Do you want my theory on you why you're
here?"
I cross my arms and wait.
He smiles. "Well, your boy-toy Trevor was
unfortunately removed from the playing field.
Now you are down an escape hatch.
So you've come to the next-most-likely candidate to relieve you of that
annoying virginity and help you loosen the chains you've let
I feel as if he's stabbed me.
Does he really think me so cruel? "You're horrible."
"I've never doubted
that. Maybe it's time you realized
it. Or do you still think you care about
me? Do you still think you can make me
whole, Diana?"
I shake my head. I can't speak, am trying hard not to
cry.
"Oh,
poor princess."
"Shut up."
"Poor
masochistic princess. Why don't you leave if I'm so
horrible?" He seems to not be sure
about that one.
It is the only opening he has
given me. "Because
I do care."
He drops his leg, leans forward. "Really?" His voice is a little warmer. Not much, but a little.
I nod.
"Come prove it. Show me.
Give me whatever you want to give me."
"Do you even want
it?" It is not what I meant to say;
it slips out before I can stop it.
"Oh, I've always wanted
it, lover." His smile is
strange. "Lover. Does that idea make you shiver, Diana? Me. Inside you?" He
is staring at me intently, and I am both attracted to him and repelled.
He seems to realize it. "Go home, little girl."
I make my feet move. Not to the door but toward him.
"Ooh. Bluff called." He leans back, pats the couch next to
him. "Come here, girl."
"I'm not
Lassie." My voice is tight. It is the first time I've let the anger I
feel out, and he laughs.
"You certainly aren't,
Diana."
I expect him to pull me down
when I get close enough. But he just
sits, staring up at me blandly. Then he
pats the sofa again. I sit slowly.
"Aren't you going to
kiss me?" I ask, laying my hand on his thigh.
"No." He leans his head back slightly. "If you want it, come get it."
I know that I should give up
now. I am too off balance to keep up
with him. "Please, Bruce, meet me
halfway."
"That's a fair
request." He sits up, meeting me
exactly midway. His eyes dare me to
close the gap.
I can never resist a
dare. Our lips meet, and I expect more
games from him, but he pulls me to him.
His kiss is as good as I remember.
His lips are surprisingly soft, but the pressure is not. He kisses me for a long time before he nudges
my mouth open with his tongue.
He pushes me down, and I feel
dizzy. As his body covers mine, I feel a
moment of panic, and I fight to keep it in check. Taking a deep breath, I flinch as it comes
out as a sob.
He stops what he is doing and
stares down at me. For the first time
tonight, I see the Bruce I know--the Bruce I love. Then the anger comes over him again, and he
pushes off the couch, moving quickly to the stairs. "Go home, Diana."
I'm up and after him,
grabbing him and pulling him back to me before he can escape.
"No!" He tries to push me away, but I'm too
strong. So he goes limp, sliding down to
the floor, taking me down with him.
"You can't hurt me,
Bruce."
He stares at me. "Oh, yes I can. I just did."
"You won't. You stopped." I brush back his hair--it's damp with sweat
and his skin is hot. "Bruce."
"Not your first time,
Diana. I'm not the man for it. Wait for
I do not expect the
"please," and it nearly breaks my heart.
"Bruce." I kiss him as gently as I can. "Please?" I say it exactly as he just said it to me. "Don't make me let go."
He is shaking his head and
saying "No" over and over.
I pull him closer, holding
him. "I'm sorry. You never told me what this day was. I wouldn't have come. I didn't know." I am crying, and I try to stop.
"Diana." His voice is different now. Soft and broken and tired. Terribly tired. "I want you so."
"Then take me
upstairs."
"I'm not the man."
"You are." I haul him to his feet. "I know you are, Bruce."
"But you
see, I get like this. You won't
know when... or even why."
I smile slightly. "I bet Alfred
does. He'll warn me."
"Aren't you afraid of
anything?"
"I am. Lots of things. You're just not one of them."
He kisses me then and it's a
tender touch, one that moves me more than I expect. I feel dizzy again but not off
balance--kissing him is like floating.
He pulls away. "I know you love
There seems no point in
evading this. He knows me and Kal too
well. "I love you too." Stroking his cheek. "Kal knows I love you, Bruce. He's not going to like this."
It is the right thing to
say. I am learning how to play the
game. Only it's not a game anymore. Tonight, the stakes feel much too high to be
anything but life or death.
I lean in, press against him
in a way I'm relatively sure he won't be able to resist. I'm not wrong. He groans heavily.
"Will you show me,
Bruce? Show me what it is to love?"
"I'll show you what it
is to make love. I'm not sure I'm
anyone's idea of a teacher for how to love."
"Well, I'll teach you
that." Even though I'm not sure I'm
qualified either. "Or better yet,
we'll teach each other."
That makes him smile. "Did you come here to do this?"
"No. I came here to spend time with you. I mean other time...not seduce-you
time." I am unsure why he is
asking.
He smiles gently. "I
have a practical reason for wanting to know.
If this is your first time...you may not have..." He looks supremely uncomfortable.
I make a face, not
understanding.
He tries again. "I know we're both up to date on our
physicals, so I'm not worried about disease.
But the League isn't big on maternity leave."
"Oh." I smile, touched that despite his mood he can
think of this. "I don't...I'm not
like normal women."
He suddenly looks concerned.
"No. I mean, that's normal." I am blushing and I hate it. "I don't bleed. I don't make eggs. They checked for years on the island. I was made of clay; the gods forgot, or maybe
I'm not meant to have children." I
pause to take a breath. "This is
probably more than you wanted to know."
"It's not." He smiles, and it is the first real smile I
have seen all night. "I'm sorry I
hurt you." He kisses me again,
pulling me close and holding on tight as if he thinks I might run away. "All I know how to do is push people
away, Diana."
"I know." I kiss him this time. If we don't move, we'll never get
upstairs. I wonder what Alfred would
think if he came down and found us both on the floor. Knowing Alfred, he'd probably just ask me how
I like my eggs.
"You want to go
upstairs?"
I nod. Taking my hand, he leads me up the stairs.
"Your hand's
sweaty," I say.
"So's yours."
"Not
very sexy." I consider pulling away from him.
He tightens his hold. "But very real."
His bedroom is down a hall
and behind a substantial door.
"Soundproofed?" I ask.
He nods,
his smile gentle.
I look down. "You've done this a lot?"
He nods again.
I take a breath and look up
at him. "A lot-a
lot?"
"I'm afraid
so." His look is resigned, as if he
is not sure if I will turn around and leave at the news.
"Have you done this
before? A first
time?" It is ridiculous, but
I want to be the first for him in some way.
He thinks about that. A long time. Then he smiles, a quirky little grin that
fades quickly but is endearing while it is there. "I don't think I have."
"You're not just saying
that?"
"I'm not just saying
that."
"Well, good. I
think." I am suddenly very nervous,
and my hands feel even sweatier.
"Diana, we don't have to
do this."
It's tempting. I'm so on edge that I feel like throwing
up. And I'm relatively sure most men
don't find women vomiting in their bedroom a turn-on.
But if I turn back, he'll
just run away from me again.
On the other hand, if I do go
through with it, he still may run away from me.
"Diana?" He moves closer, his eyes suddenly
bleak. As if he knows I'm
doubting him.
"Do you love me?" I
ask.
He nods.
"No. Say it."
"I love you."
Before I can lose my nerve, I take off my uniform. Standing there in front of him, I am suddenly
sure that it is not good form to spontaneously become naked. I probably should have let him take the
uniform off slowly. I reach for the
uniform. "I'll put it back
on."
He stops me. "I'd rather you didn't. Now that you've got it off..." He looks like he is trying not to laugh, and
it's the first time I've seen that particular sparkle in his eyes.
"I'm glad I amuse
you," I say, pretending to pout.
"You charm me. There's a difference."
I smile, feel immediately
better about being without clothes when he is fully dressed. I suddenly understand his success with
women. Then I realize he is studying me
as if I'm something he might want to add to his collection.
"Would you like to see
my teeth?"
He grins. "Teeth have their place. We'll go over when and how to use them,
and--just as crucial--when not to."
He could be giving me a
fighting lesson, his tone is that casual.
It is exactly the right approach.
I relax.
"I take it I meet with
your approval, Mister Wayne?"
"Was there any
doubt? You know you're perfect."
My smile fades. "I'm not perfect, Bruce. I'm just a person."
"No, you're not. Just a person could not have gotten in
here."
"You were going to do
this. Earlier. On the couch."
He looks down. "Yes.
On the couch.
Not up here."
"You were going to make
us sleep on the couch?"
"We weren't going to
sleep." He does not look up. "I was going to kick you out when we
were done."
That hurts. "Oh." I can imagine what it would have felt like,
how his derision would have cut me. I
turn away from him, walking to the dresser, absently playing with the cufflinks
in a small bowl. I'm having trouble
seeing. "You were really going to
do that?"
"Diana. That was then. This is different." He puts his arms around me, and the feel of
them encircling me is strange. Kessia
used to hold me this way, but Bruce is bigger, his bulk pushing against me
makes me feel...vulnerable.
"You're not going to
now? Because I don't think I could stand
that."
He turns me, kisses me so
tenderly I start to cry. Why are my
emotions so volatile? I force myself to
stop crying.
When he pulls away, his look
is full of understanding. "You're
just nervous."
"I'm scared."
"You said you weren't
scared of me."
"Well, that was down
there. Up here, I am."
He starts to take off his
clothes. "Maybe it would help if I
took these off. Make us more
equal."
I nod. Then I realize he'll be naked. Gulping, I'm about to tell him to wait, but
he's already naked.
And he's beautiful. His body is covered with scars and bruises,
but I don't care. He's so...solid.
He looks down. "I know. Not a centerfold."
I realize he is embarrassed
by the scars. "Wait a minute. How do you explain that?"
"Explain?"
"To
the lots and lots of women? Why the millionaire goof-off playboy looks
like an ad for Soldier of Fortune?"
He shrugs. But when I glare at him, he says, "Well,
I didn't say the lots and lots of women were recent."
"How long has it
been?"
"Long
enough."
I am grinning, and he pulls
me to him and says, "Stop that."
The he kisses me even as he maneuvers me to the bed. What he does to me at first isn't any
different than what Kessia taught me. As
I lay back after the orgasm, I realize he is staring at me and frowning.
I frown too. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Not wrong," he
says. "But...you've done that
before, haven't you?"
I smile. "Well, yes."
He looks very
put out. "What else have you
done? Because I'm
envisioning my teaching gig being a very short one."
I laugh. "Does it mean that much to you that you
be my teacher?"
He has to think about
that. "I guess it does." He looks mad that it does, but I find it
sweet.
"I had a lover on the
island. A woman."
"Ah." He seems to think about it for a while. "That's sexy, you know."
"It is?"
He laughs. "Oh,
yeah. Guys really dig
that." He is rubbing my neck as he
moves closer, then he begins to kiss his way from my ear to my chest.
"Why do guys like that?"
He shrugs and keeps on with
what he's doing.
"But you must have a
theory. You always have a theory."
He glares at me. "Diana, we're busy here."
"We can't talk
during?"
He laughs. Pulling me to him for a quick kiss, he says,
"It's simple. We all think we'll be
invited to join in."
"Oh." As he returns to his slow exploration of my
body, I think about that. "Bruce, I
don't think you and Kal would invite me in if I caught you in bed."
"Oh, we'd invite you
in." Then he looks up at me. "Only you're not going to catch us in
bed."
"Well you never
know." I am joking, but at his
glare I stop. "You seem awfully
defensive."
"Don't go there."
"Something I should
know?"
He seems to be trying to
escape by heading for my toes, so I pull him up and give him the Wonder Woman
glare. "Do I have to get the
lasso?"
"It was a long time
ago. Way before
you."
"You
and Kal?"
"It was a phase. A short one." He makes a face. "I don't mean that it was wrong...but it
complicated things almost to the point where our friendship fell apart."
I wait for more. He smiles tightly, as if he knows I'm not
going to let him off without a better story.
"Lasso," I whisper.
"We were so
different. I think that was what
attracted us to each other in the first place as friends and later as
more. But those differences hurt us too. So we backed off. And then you came into the picture. We both fell hard for you and that was
that."
"Do you love
him?" I am finding the conversation
fascinating, and I make him stop what he's doing and come up to lie beside me.
"Diana, correct me if
I'm wrong, but aren't we in the middle of taking your virginity away? Why is this the time to discuss me and
Clark?"
"It's a facet to
you...and to him. Something I didn't
expect."
"I love him as a
friend. Sex with him...it was fun. But we were never in love."
I am staring at him, and he
looks uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
"You've surprised
me." I start to laugh then. "We really are the trinity."
"No," he says,
rolling me under him. "We really
are not."
I can feel him against
me. He wants me. This talk of Kal has not changed that. Another facet indeed.
I kiss him. "I'm ready, I think."
He touches me and
smiles. "Yes, you are."
"Will you show me how to
please you?"
"You could lie there
like a rock and it would probably please me.
I want you that much."
"Well, I'd rather not
lie here like a rock. And I meant...all
the ways I can please you. Show me what
you like?" That menu has suddenly
widened with Kal's presence in his romantic history. I have a feeling I'll be reading up.
He seems to figure out what
I'm thinking. "Diana. Forget
"You're sure? Because if you want to--"
He kisses me. "Shut up. Please?"
He shakes his head. "It's
supposed to be more solemn than this."
"Why?" I let my hand roam down until I can feel what
will soon be inside me. His body is so different
than Kessia's. It is not like making
love to another woman, all yielding and soft.
I touch him again, and he groans, and I decide it is a groan of pleasure
not of pain. "Will it hurt?"
"Probably." He waits.
"My goddesses are
virgins. Artemis. Athena too." I let go of him as I think about that.
"Do you want to
stop?" He sounds as if the thinks
that a terribly bad idea. "Because
if you do, I'd like to counter that Aphrodite is anything but a virgin."
"Good point." It sounds flip, and I meet his eyes. "I'm not making fun of my
goddesses."
"I know you're
not." He eases off me. "Do you think they want you to do
this?"
"I don't know. And it's not like they'll tell me. Seems like they only show up anymore when
they need something." I sound like
a bratty teenager, and I cringe at my tone.
"You want to think about
this?"
"No. If it's purity we're talking about, I stopped
being pure when I was with Kessia. Why
should this be different?"
"I think it is."
"But why should it? I stopped being pure when I started touching
myself, didn't I? And why is that pure
anyway? Is pleasure bad?"
"Well, I don't happen to
think so."
I resist telling him Batman
isn't known for being the happy-go-lucky hedonist.
He sighs, seem to realize he's
in for a philosophical moment. "Do
you think it's bad?"
"It's a way to
connect. And a way to
understand who I am. Why should
my power be wrapped up in that?"
"Will you lose your
powers if you--"
"You mean like Solitaire
in Live and Let Die? No. And why should that have mattered? And what kind of psychic was she anyway if
she didn't know that Bond had stacked the deck."
He is staring at me in a sort
of horrified amusement.
"Some of my staffers are
James Bond fans. I had to sit through
the marathon over the holidays." I
wave him off. "But it's a valid
question. Why should it matter? Demeter and Hera and
Artemis's Isis. All ripe women."
"Very
true." He lies back, staring up at the ceiling.
"You don't have an
opinion on this?"
"I feel I should stay
out. I'm not precisely a disinterested
party."
I let my hand run over
him--he's not quite as interested as he was.
Groaning, he closes his
eyes. "You want that lesson
now?"
I lean in, so my ear is close
to his mouth. "Tell me."
He does, and I do what he has
outlined. Apparently I do it quite
well. He is moaning. Then he is pushing me away.
"Not good?" I ask.
"Too
good."
I feel a momentary surge of
triumph. "I love the idea that I'm
making you feel good."
He pushes me over, his hand
finding me again. "You enjoyed
doing that."
I smile. "You enjoyed having me do it."
"That I did." His kisses are
soft and sweet, but they turn hard very quickly. He holds me down. He's not hurting me, but I can tell he would
not normally let go to this extent. He's
not as strong as I am, but he's turned his body into a machine that answers to
his every call. A
machine that I'm enjoying feeling moving over me.
"Bruce, do it."
"Mmmm,"
he says.
His hand is back down, touching
me this time to excite. I buck and
groan, moaning my pleasure into his mouth since he won't stop kissing me. Then I feel him pushing down, and I tense
up.
"Relax. It's better to relax." He touches my hair. "Diana."
I let go, let him in. It does hurt.
But not for long.
"Are you all
right?" He is moving so carefully,
as if I'm porcelain.
I nod, closing my eyes.
"Open your eyes,"
he says, and I do. He seems to be trying
to make sure I'm all right.
"I'm fine." I keep my eyes open as I get used to the feel
of him inside me. It is different than
anything Kessia did to me. She was like
me. He is like my mirror image, going
out where I go in. We fit together, and
the feel of his body spreading across mine is a most intimate form of connection. Intimate beyond sex.
He is staring at me,
something lost in his eyes.
"Bruce?"
"I love you. I'm sorry for the things I said
downstairs...I would never hurt you."
"You didn't hurt
me."
His kiss is gentle. "But I did. And I will again. It's how I am."
"Maybe. But you're not
hurting me now. So shut up."
He smiles. "Yes, Princess." He moves faster, watching me to gauge if he's
hurting me
But it doesn't hurt
anymore. It only feels good. I smile up at him, experimenting with different
motions of my own, and he grins.
"I love you,
Bruce."
He is moving faster and
faster, then his eyes close and he is calling my name over and over. He seems to be in another world, but my name
comes easily to him. It occurs to me that
he may call it out when he's alone, which makes me smile even more. I try out some new muscles, clenching down,
and I hear him call out again, and then once more, even louder. I hold him as he collapses, his lips finding
my neck.
"Diana," he
breathes against my ear.
I kiss his cheek.
He starts to pull away. "I'm too heavy--"
Laughing, I won't let him
go--I don't want him to leave me.
"I'm a superhero, remember?"
He smiles goofily, collapsing
for real this time, his full weight on me.
Despite super strength it is an odd feeling. Almost like being buried
under him.
"Not so fun, is
it?" He is grinning as he takes
some of the weight off me. He nips at
me, kissing lightly, his lips dropping on my neck, my cheek, my forehead, then
my lips. As he nibbles on my ear, he
whispers, "So, what did you think of it?"
I smile. He may be the experienced one, but he's needy
too. "I loved it."
"It gets better. You'll get used to me."
I nod, suddenly tired. He looks wiped out too.
"Can we sleep?" I ask,
because I can tell he is pretending he is not as tired as he is.
He nods, then
he looks guilty. "It's your first
time. I should be giving you hours of
pleasure."
"Give them to me in the
morning. When you
don't kick me out." The last
part comes out too arch.
He touches my mouth, his
fingers tracing my lips. "I'm not
going to kick you out. You can stay here
as long as you want." He smiles at
me. "Alfred will be pleased to see
you in the morning. He loves you."
"He does?" After our conversation tonight, I'm not sure
that's true.
Bruce nods. His eyes are closing and he pulls me to
him, murmuring, "There's a bathroom behind that door." He points to the dresser. "And an extra robe in the dresser. Bottom drawer." He points to what must be the bathroom door.
I smile. "Okay."
He looks over at me. "Just so you know,
I never share my robes. Pajama tops,
yes. Robes, no."
I smile. "I feel honored."
"No, Diana. I feel honored." Kissing me one last time, he pulls me
close. As he falls asleep, I expect him
to let go of me. But his arms only
tighten around me, and he mumbles my name.
I hope that we have given him
a little bit of good to make the day bearable in the future. I kiss him, and relax against him, letting
his soft snores lull me. But the noise
is unfamiliar, and I soon grow too warm in the circle of his arms. I shift, trying to find a way to lie that
does not involve some part of him poking into some part of me.
I finally doze. Sleep doesn't claim me; it teases me. I look at the clock,
see that a few hours have passed. Bruce
lies quietly, and I wonder if that is his normal way to sleep. I have always imagined he would be a
thrasher. Normally I fall asleep easily, normally I do not wait for morning.
Morning. When he might still kick me out. The thought is unbidden and very
unwelcome. He would not do that. Not after our night. He would not...
How much did he drink last
night? Will he remember our night?
He lets go of me, shifting, but
his hand still touches me, as if in sleep he is reassuring himself I am still
there. I find the thought comforting and
close my eyes. When I open them again,
it is morning. I am on my back and Bruce
is on his side, asleep still, his arm thrown across me. I sigh, watching him for half an hour as he
sleeps, before he opens his eyes and looks over at me.
His smile is slow and
sensuous. "It wasn't a dream."
I smile back. "I'm here."
He moves closer. "How do you feel? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." I stare at him, trying to read him. I've always had trouble doing that. It's why his first kisses took me by
surprise.
"Diana?"
"If you wanted me to
leave, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
He snuggles closer. "Do you even have to ask? Batman is not known for his social
skills. You've told me that
yourself."
"But Bruce Wayne is very
skilled." I am not sure why I am
saying this except that I have lain awake all night afraid of what morning
would bring.
"Don't leave." He kisses me, and I can feel myself relaxing
as his hand starts roaming. "I
promised you hours of pleasure."
"Yes, you did."
"Then we better get
started." His hand is moving down,
teasing me as he goes, lingering on my breasts, my stomach, and then
lower.
I sigh, and the sigh turns
into a long moan as he touches me as if he's been doing it all his life.
"Did you think I'd let
you leave?" he asks.
I look over at him. I realize I need to let him have the
truth. We should have that between us
from the start. "I thought you'd
make me leave."
"Why?" he asks, not
stopping what he's doing with his hand.
"I wasn't sure. Last night was a bad one for you. And after what you told
me...about kicking me out."
I sound pathetic, and I force my lips closed so I won't say more.
"I shouldn't have told
you that." He nuzzles my ear. "I think I still wanted to hurt
you. I'm not a nice man, Diana. You need to know that."
He has intensified his attack
on my body, moving his lips down to my chest, going back and forth, licking,
sucking, kissing me.
I can feel the pleasure rumbling up from deep inside me, and I don't
fight it, just ride it out.
"Do you have any idea
how beautiful you are?" He pulls me
on top of him, his expression so tender I have to lean down to kiss him. "Go slow. You may be sore," he says as he lifts me
up and onto him.
I am sore. But it is the soreness of a good
workout. I exhale as I sink down, the
feeling a mix of intense pleasure and discomfort.
"Okay?"
"Yes." I feel very exposed sitting on him this way;
he can see so much of me. "What do
I do?"
"Just move, find out
what feels good. Play." He pulls me down for another kiss, then
gently lifts me up to get me started.
As I sink back down, I
moan. It is awkward at first, trying to
find a rhythm, but then I get it, and he smiles as I settle down and ride
him.
"That's my girl."
His girl. It's a sweet
thing to say, and it surprises me that he can discard the worldly playboy in
favor of this less sophisticated man. I
feel another climax rumbling and ride him harder as I throw my head back and
call out his name. He is watching me,
and I keep moving even though it almost hurts to move so soon after coming
because I am so sensitive. But I don't
want to stop because he is close--I can tell that, and I smile at being able to
tell that.
Clutching my waist, he
adjusts my motion just a little. "Oh, god.
Diana. Don't stop."
I don't stop, and soon he is
crying out things that make little sense except that my name figures
prominently. I smile as he finally lies
still and looks up at me. Grabbing my
hair, a large hunk that doesn't hurt when he tugs, he gently pulls me down to
him. We kiss for a very long time.
Then there is a soft knock on
the door, and Bruce pulls me off him and to his side, drawing the covers
up. "Come in."
Alfred acts as if seeing me
in his master's bed is an everyday occurrence.
Handing me my phone, he says, "This was ringing when I went
downstairs, Miss Diana. I thought it
might be important."
"Thank you." I call the voice mail. It is the Embassy. They have scheduled an early meeting with the
Secretary General--a meeting we've been trying to get for weeks. I look at Bruce.
"You have to go,"
he says.
I nod.
"I can make you
breakfast," Alfred says.
"No time."
"I'll make it to
go. By the time you finish your shower,
it will be ready." He smiles at me
and leaves, closing the door behind him.
"See. I told you he likes you. He doesn't make breakfast-to-go for just
anyone, you know."
I laugh. "I don't want to leave."
"But you have to?"
"I do. I've got non-stop meetings this afternoon and
an event tonight."
"Come back when you're
done. No matter how late."
"You'll be up?"
He moves my hand down and
waggles his eyebrows. "I'll be
up."
"I love you." I laugh as I kiss him long and hard, in a
way that I probably wouldn't have known how to do before our night. He has taught me more than he knows. I wonder if anyone will notice I'm
different. I feel different. I feel...powerful. I feel like I finally own my body, finally
understand what it's capable of.
"Diana." He strokes my hair. "I love you. Thank you for sticking around last
night."
"I'll be back
later."
He nods and lets me get
up. "You're always welcome
here."
When I finish my shower, he
is asleep again. I kiss him gently and
then pull my uniform on and leave him in peace.
Alfred looks up as I walk
into the kitchen. The smile he gives me
is radiant, and he hands me a small bag.
"An egg sandwich," he says softly as I look inside.
And
strawberries. He has packed me strawberries. I walk over, kiss his cheek. "You're a sweet man, Alfred."
For a moment, he rests his
hand on my arm. "Normally, on this
morning, I'd go down to the Batcave and find him at
his desk, dead tired but still awake.
Since his parents were killed, he's never slept through the night of
their deaths unless he was injured. Not
until now."
I can feel my eyes
stinging. "I'm glad I didn't take
your advice."
He smiles, but his eyes are
suspiciously bright. "Oh, I knew
you wouldn't. You're just like him. Stubborn." The way he says stubborn makes it sound like
a good thing. "You'll be back
tonight?"
I nod.
"Is there anything about
your diet I should know?"
"I'm a vegetarian. But you know that."
I yawn, and he smiles, almost
in sympathy, as if he somehow knows the sleepless night I spent.
He walks me to the Batcave door.
"Get some sleep tonight now that he's let you in. I don't think he'll ever shut you out
again."
"No?"
"I know him. What kind of man he is. And how he loves. And he loves you, my dearest." He straightens. "I won't keep you."
"I'll see you
tonight."
"Until
then." He is suddenly formal, but his eyes twinkle
as the doors close between us.
I hurry down to the Batcave and out to the clearing where I call the plane to
me. I am in a hurry to start my day
because I cannot wait for it to end. I
cannot wait to come back and learn what it means to love Bruce Wayne--and to
have him love me.
Tides and Tales
Kal stares up at the
moon. His eyes are hooded; he's turned
away just enough so that I cannot read his expression. "I didn't know it was that day."
"I never told you."
"You never told me
anything about the two of you. It was a
closed subject."
"Well, it's not now."
He turns to me, and I see old
pain in his eyes. "I hated that you
wouldn't talk to me. You shut down when
you hooked up with him."
I cuddle close to him. I can't make this any better. I did shut down with Kal, but it was so long
ago. I can't fix it, nor do I really
want to. Life was how it was.
"It wasn't all sweetness
and light, Kal. He and I were
volatile. Alfred was right. We were both so stubborn."
"I just thought you two
were fighting like normal. You didn't
even tell me, Diana. Why didn't you tell
me?"
"It was...we wanted to
keep it just for us. At
least for a while."
He doesn't answer. Then he sighs and turns away.
"Why didn't you mention
you were with Bruce?" I run my
fingers through his hair, digging in and pushing it back over his ear--he loves
this.
"I don't know. It happened so long ago."
"Did you love him?"
"Next to you, he was my
best friend." He pulls away from my
fingers.
I am not surprised that he is
trying to escape. "And you always
fall in love with your best friends, don't you?
You can relax with us and with no one else."
He turns to look at me.
"You seem open on the
surface, but you're not. You have a few
choice friends and everyone else is kept at arms length. You guard yourself as carefully as Bruce ever
did." I move closer, nuzzle his
neck until he reaches for me again.
"As the members of the League were killed or just got old and
retired, you pulled away more and more.
When Lois died..."
Kal disappeared for two
months after her funeral. I still don't
know where he went. None of us could
find him. And we looked. He was just...gone.
Bruce knew he'd come
back. I wasn't so sure, but Bruce
was. "He'll come back because
you're here."
And he was right. Kal did show back up in his uniform. But
"Bruce was good to
me," Kal whispers. And he's
right. Bruce invited him over and made
Kal socialize when he finally came back.
Bruce was old then, still mobile but in pain most nights. Sometimes I didn't sleep with him because it
hurt him when I moved around. Other
nights, he was better, and he held me the way he always did when we slept. One hand always on me, finding me, making
sure that I wasn't going to run away or be taken away like his parents.
"Bruce loved you,"
I say, and my voice breaks because I have started to cry. I do not expect it.
Kal looks over at me. His eyes are full of tears too. "I never told you where I went when she
died."
"No. You never did."
He pulls me close, squeezing
me with such intensity that my ribs protest.
Then he eases up. "There's a
series of mountain caves in
"Did you want to be lost
forever?"
He nods; I can feel the
motion against the top of my head.
"I always knew how much
you loved her."
He is silent for a long time,
just holding me. Then he says,
"That's not why."
I pull away.
He traces my cheek, his hand
stopping to cup my jaw. "I knew it
was only a matter of time before Bruce would be gone too. I'd lost my wife, I'd watched her grow old
and tired and crotchety. And I was
watching Bruce do the same. And you were
still there. Glowing
with youth. A prize if I just
waited long enough. When she died, I was
so sad. And I was..." He drops his hand. "I felt so guilty. I missed her, and yet...I was thinking about
you. Just like I had
throughout our marriage. Somehow,
once she was gone, it seemed the greater betrayal."
Bruce had known Kal was
waiting for me. One night, when he was
angry with me for something I wouldn't let him do, he said, "How long are
you going to wait?"
I wasn't sure what he
meant. "Wait for what?"
"How long are you going
to wait after I'm gone before you fall into his bed?"
I ignored him, which made him
angry. I ignored him because telling him
I didn't know would only have made him angrier.
Kal and I waited six
months. At the time, it seemed a long
time. Looking back, I wonder if Bruce
would agree.
I was a widow for six
months. I still miss Bruce. Even with Kal in my life, I miss Bruce. There was a tension with Bruce that Kal and I
don't have because usually he won't fight with me the way Bruce did. But he also doesn't hurt me the way Bruce
could. And I don't tend to hurt him
either. We're gentler with each other,
Kal and I.
But Bruce and I rubbed at
each other sometimes. We didn't always
get things right.
Come to think of it, neither
did Kal and I.
Not back then.
Reflections of Older Love
The party is full of
glittering people in slinky dresses and elegant tuxes. I wander on the perimeter, sipping at my
water, smiling at anyone I know. The
lights seem overly bright--they have ever since I got my sight back. It is strange to navigate by eye again. I wasn't blind for long, but I got used to
relying on my other senses. Bruce thinks
it has made me a better fighter. More dangerous.
Bruce and I have kept our
relationship quiet, only the League and those who know both his identities are
aware that Batman and Wonder Woman are a couple. But now he wants to come out, to slowly let
Bruce Wayne the millionaire woo Diana, Ambassador of Themyscira.
Bruce wants to marry me. I would have
expected it of Kal, but that Bruce wants to honor such a tradition surprises
me. Since he can't marry me as Batman,
our little dance has to be carefully choreographed--this is Bruce's and my
coming out party. We've danced around
each other at a handful of these fetes.
At the first one, we talked for a little longer than was normal. In the next, we danced once. A photographer snapped us on the dance floor,
and we were on the
And I try to avoid looking at
Kal. He and Lois are dancing, but he
keeps glancing over at me. I look away,
but not before I see his face tighten.
I am not even sure why he is
here. Other than that he is a masochist.
It is not something I would
have thought in the past, but I have become harder since I've been with
Bruce. And since I was
blind. Life was starker then, and
Kal fell short of what I wanted from him.
Only Bruce stood by me. Only Batman supported a Wonder Woman who
lived in his kind of darkness. He nearly
quit the League when they were not going to allow me to continue. It was his idea to test me, and I passed his
test. But they were still too
uncomfortable with a blind Wonder Woman to let me remain. And they thought since it was his idea to
test me that he felt the same way.
It was only because they
could not afford to lose both of us that they allowed me to stay. I have still not forgiven most of them. I'm not sure I ever will.
Kal...Kal had his own reasons
for wanting me gone. I know that I was a
distraction to him.
"I can't protect you all
the time, Diana," he said one night as I tried to get him to spar with me
as he had in my sighted days.
"You don't need to
protect me at all."
"Yes. I do."
"No, Clark." Bruce was behind me. I could hear the anger in his voice. The jealousy. "If anyone is going to protect her, it
will be me."
And then he kissed me. In front of Kal. With no warning.
And I kissed him back. I could hear Kal's heart break from where I
stood. And I didn't care.
Harder. Colder. More dangerous.
"Diana?" I turn, see Kal standing close. His expression is wary, as it probably has
been since he had to learn of Bruce and me by being a voyeur.
"
"I hate this." He is looking out at the crowd. Lois is at the bar, laughing with some other
woman. But he is not looking at her, his eyes are trained on the entrance.
"This
party?"
"This
farce."
"Is that what you think
my relationship with Bruce is?"
"You even sound like him
now." He sighs. "I mean having to watch you two pretend
to fall in love."
"We are in love."
He turns to me and his eyes
gleam in a way that on Bruce would be dangerous. "You know what I mean," he says.
I am feeling cruel. "Bruce and I will kiss tonight."
"Thanks for the
warning. Too bad you didn't give me one
when it really mattered...when it really hurt."
I turn to him and want to
knock him across the dance floor. His
wife is here, and he's lecturing me about hurt?
"This isn't about you, Clark."
He grabs me, pulls me onto
the dance floor. He is the only one
stronger than I am. The only one who can
hold me.
"Make a scene, Diana."
He is daring me. He knows my temper.
But if I do make a scene, it
will spoil the real show of Bruce and I kissing on
this same floor. "Kal," I say,
not caring about Lois anymore. "Go
back to your wife."
He pulls me closer, and I can
feel he is aroused. I notice that now; I
know things I did not before Bruce showed me the power in my body.
"I could kiss you
first...beat him to the punch," Kal says, pushing even closer. If we were naked, he would be inside me.
"You forget
yourself." I am trying to look as
if I am a bit embarrassed, say rather loudly.
"You've had a few drinks, haven't you, Mister Kent?"
I see Lois looking over at
us. She does not look pleased.
And then I see Bruce. He is standing at the entrance, staring at
me. His eyes are dead, his face set like
a stone.
"Kal," I say so low
that I know only he can hear.
"You've done your damage.
Let me go."
He doesn't look back at Bruce
as he lets me go. Walking back to Lois,
he takes her arm, drawing her onto the dance floor. He kisses her tenderly, and I have a feeling
it is more for my benefit than for hers.
"Damn you," I
mutter as I turn to look at Bruce.
He is working his way around
the room. But he does not come near
me. Not once. If I try to get to him, he changes course.
There will be no kiss for the
paparazzi tonight. There will be nothing
tonight.
Finally, angry and tired and
not sure why he is punishing me, I head for the entrance.
As I walk up the stairs to
the roof, my shoes begin to pinch, and I take them off and pad up the steps
without them.
He is waiting for me on the
roof. I have no idea how he has beaten
me up there. Or how he
found time to change into his Batman costume. But he has.
He stands, arms crossed against his chest.
I slip my shoes back on. "Get out of my way," I say, as I
push past him. The roof is immense, but
it is typical of our relationship that I pick the spot of roof he occupies as
the one I must pass through.
He grabs me, spins me to him,
and we are dancing finally. It is not a pleasant dance as he holds me close,
his teeth closing down on my ear.
I am tempted to send him
flying across the roof. "Don't be
an ass, Bruce. I've already danced with
one of those tonight."
"Yes, I saw. He was practically screwing you."
"He tried." I push him off me. "Thank goodness for good American-made
satin."
I stroke the icy-pink fabric,
letting my hands run down my stomach, over my pelvis. Bruce follows my progress, his eyes
cold. I picked the dress out for him. He likes me in this color. Likes me in the bias-cut dresses
of the thirties. He doesn't seem
to like me in this one tonight. He looks
like he might rip it off me.
Or try to at least.
"Diana. Why do you let him--"
"--I didn't let him do
anything. He's stronger, and short of
compromising his
"--Did he? Or did you let him?" Bruce turns, striding away until he gets to
the side of the roof, then he just steps off.
I rush over, see him slide down the rope he
must have used to get up to the roof. He
jerks it loose, and it falls down.
Looking up, he stares at me.
I step off the roof and let
myself fall, moderating my speed just enough to keep from plowing into the concrete
when I land.
I see his face change. I rarely remind him how much stronger I
am. But tonight...tonight it seems
necessary.
Then I walk away.
He catches me in five steps,
pushing me into an alley, deep into the shadows where we won't be seen as he
pushes up my dress, and tears at his uniform, and presses me against the
wall. He is kissing me frantically, and
I'm kissing him just as desperately.
"When will you believe
that I love you?" I say as he lifts
me up onto him.
He is violent tonight,
terrible and strong and I revel in it.
He has to put his hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.
I have to return the favor a
few moments later.
He lets me down, the dress
falling back down around me as he leans against me, his head buried in my
hair. "Should we go back
inside?"
"There'll be other
parties." I kiss him. "Let's go home."
He smiles. Home is his house, sometimes alone, sometimes
sitting with Alfred. We watch television
together, the three of us. And Alfred makes
fun of us when we do not understand the teenage phrasings he seems remarkably
adept at deciphering. He has become
hooked on teen dramas while waiting up for Bruce. I find it utterly charming.
"I'm sorry," Bruce
says.
"I know you
are." It is the truth. We are always sorry after we've fought. Or at least after we've
made up. And we always make up
the same way--with passion. "I'll
see you there."
He nods. As I turn, he says, "Diana?"
I look over at him.
"I love your
dress."
Smiling, I fly up to the roof
to call the plane and head back in the direction of
I beat him home, and Alfred
frowns when I walk in.
"I didn't hear the
car," he says.
"The night didn't go
exactly as planned."
A frown is his only
answer. He can say more with a single
expression than anyone I know.
I give him more. "
"Ah."
I shoot him a look. "Ah?"
He nods. "You're Joey. They're
Unfortunately, I know what
he's talking about. He's made me watch
his DVDs. "And which one is
"Oh,
"I see." I squeeze his shoulder. "Not everything is like TV, dear
Alfred."
"No?" He turns to the door. I heard the car before he did, but not much
before. "Here's Pacey
now."
I laugh as Bruce steps
in.
"What?" he asks.
"Alfred's just telling
me about
"There's lasagna staying
warm in the oven," Alfred says as he turns the TV on.
I look at Bruce. He shrugs but makes a beeline to the
oven. We both love Alfred's
lasagna.
I walk over to the old man,
who is studiously ignoring me. "How
did you know?" I ask as I lean over him.
"I saw
"And how did you see the
guest list?"
"A good butler never
reveals his sources."
I walk away from him, back to
Bruce. "He knew we'd be back."
"Seems
like." He grins at me, holding out a forkful of
lasagna, his hand cupped underneath it to catch the drips. "Not sure I like that we're that predictable."
I open my mouth, closing my
eyes in appreciation as I savor the lasagna.
"We need to work on that."
He rubs tomato sauce on my
lips and kisses it off. "Yes, we
do."
I slip in close, pulling him
to me, holding him tightly. "I
don't know why Kal did that." But
it is a lie. I do know why Kal acts like
that. I know, and Bruce knows that I do.
"Maybe I need to talk to
him. Maybe if I'd talked to him in the
first place..." He sighs. "I wanted to hurt him when I kissed you
in front of him."
"I know. And I think I was fine with you hurting
him. Maybe he had it coming?"
"No. He just loves you. He can't help it." He kisses me again, his lips soft and sweet,
as they always are when he is feeling tender--and contrite. "I love you."
"I love you
too." I pull away from him. "I'm starved."
He hands me a fork and puts
the dish of lasagna on a trivet on the counter.
We sit on stools and dig into it, laughing as we feed each other bites.
Alfred walks in and shakes
his head as he gets a bottle of water from the fridge. "We do have plates."
"Mind your own business,
old man," Bruce says, but he drops a hand on Alfred's arm as he passes to
go back to the TV. And he stares fondly
at him as Alfred sits down heavily--he is getting older, and I know it worries
Bruce.
"Once he's done taking
care of us, we'll take care of him. Always."
Bruce looks over at me, as if
surprised that I know what he's thinking.
Then he smiles.
I smile too. We may fight like tigers, but we're finally
becoming friends.
Burying the Dead
Kal holds my hand as we walk
in the surf. "When did you first
realize that you looked younger than Bruce?"
"The
opening of the second
He nods. "I remember the pictures."
"He was angry when he
saw them. It took him days to tell me
why."
"He looked like your
father."
"I didn't think
so." I squeeze Kal's hand. "You and I were both a little older than
he when we all met. Do you
remember?"
He nods. "He caught up. Then he pushed past us. You looked like his granddaughter at the
end."
"Kal, don't."
"I bet it hurt him. He was so proud. And he loved you so. Loved you from the moment he set eyes on you,
Diana. We both did."
"Back then I only saw
the cape...all that blackness. Always behind you."
I don't resist as Kal pulls me closer, and I snuggle against him as he
drops an arm around me. "I only saw
you at first."
"That hurt him."
"I hurt him a lot in the
early days." We walk in silence for
a moment, then I laugh. "Do you remember when he kissed me on
the
"I thought you were
going to kill him."
"If I hadn't been so
stunned, I might have." There is a
sound overhead, and I say softly, "Listen."
He cocks his head the way he
always does when he's listening to something, then he begins to chuckle. "Bats."
"He's watching us."
Kal nods. "He always was. He was so sure we were going to fall into
each other's arms."
"We never
did." I look up at him.
"We did damn near
everything but."
He's right. Before I married Bruce, Kal and I talked
until
"When did you notice you
looked younger?" I ask.
"When
she wanted to get plastic surgery."
"You never told me she
wanted that."
"I never talked about it
to anyone. I barely talked about it to
her. It...hurt. In so many ways. For her, for me, for us as
a couple. She was outpacing
me. As
Even if it is probably
exactly what he wants to know.
"Things weren't always
good" is all I'll say.
"I bet not. Bruce judged himself harder than anyone. To not be able to..."
"Have you ever not been
able to?" I have trouble imagining
him not able to.
"When
I lost my powers, just before Lois called off the wedding." He looks
down.
"But never as
Superman?"
He doesn't meet my eyes.
"Kal?"
He starts to pull away, and I
hold him close. "Kal?"
"On
your wedding night. I shouldn't have tried to do it, because I
only ended up hurting Lois." He
shakes his head. "I kept trying. It kept not working." He seems very far away--a place that is
filled with hurt. He looks at me and
there is anger in the look as he tries to push me away--I don't budge, just
stay locked in step with him as we walk.
"I didn't hear her cry very often, but she cried that night. In the bed, turned away
from me. Silently. She thought I was asleep, I think."
"I didn't know."
"Why should you
have? We were barely talking back
then. Not after that party, after what I
did. Bruce was furious with me. He told me to stay away from you."
"He did?"
"Oh,
yeah." Kal relaxes and stops trying to push me
away. "I can still remember him
stomping into the monitor room, cape billowing behind him. 'I'm going to marry her,
I laugh. It's the sort of thing Bruce would do:
confront Kal alone on neutral ground. Alpha male to alpha male.
"It wasn't funny
then. I'd lost you, and I was nearly
frantic." He sits down in the surf,
pulling me down next to him. The nearly
transparent scarf I've wrapped around me soaks up water and clings to my
body. He pushes me to my back, pulling
the scarf taut over my breasts and leaning down to kiss one of them through the
material. I can feel his lips closing
over me, sucking hard, and I dig my fingers into the wet sand.
"I had these elaborate
fantasies of stealing you and taking you...anywhere. I would have gone back to Asgard. Gladly. I would even have killed the monsters if it
meant having you all to myself."
He shifts to my other breast,
and his hands smooth the fabric down lower, his fingers teasing it over me,
using it to rub me, making me moan.
"I would have done
this. Over and over and over until you
couldn't remember who Bruce was much less that you wanted to marry him."
He suddenly yanks off the
scarf, pushing my arms over my head, forcing them into the sand. Then he is on
me, in me. Moving
harder than he ever has before.
It almost hurts.
"You're mine." His voice is ragged, raw with emotion and
effort.
I do not argue; just call his
name as I succumb to what he's doing to me, the relentless pounding calling up
my own pleasure. As I collapse in bliss,
he stretches my arms a bit more.
"Try to get away."
I am still groggy with sensation,
but I struggle half heartedly.
"Try harder," he
says, increasing his tempo.
I try harder. "I can't get away, Kal."
My words seem to be more than
he can stand. He pumps into me, saying,
"You were mine," over and over until he finally crumples.
We are both breathing hard,
and he lets go of my arms. Looking deep
into my eyes, he says again, "You were mine."
"No, Kal, I wasn't. Before and now--yes. But not then. I was Bruce's then."
"Yes," he says,
burying his face in my hair. "You
were his."
He is shaking, and as I run
my fingers lightly down his back, I feel him shiver even more.
"I love you, Kal."
"I know." He lifts his head, stares down at me. "I used to have to imagine you with
him."
"I used to have to
imagine you with Lois." I suddenly
hope that Lina never has to know this terrible kind of passion. I hope that love, when it comes for her, is
something sweeter and gentler.
"I was sure I'd show up
at the Watchtower to find out you were pregnant."
I just smile. He knows better now. But then he didn't know I couldn't have
children. Although I went one thousand
years with no period, and he was a married man who had no doubt been sent out
on a few emergency supply runs. He
should have figured it out.
"Did Bruce want children?"
Kal asks.
Bruce never talked about
it. He knew I couldn't from that first
night. I don't think it ever occurred to
him to worry about it. If we were
supposed to have kids in our life, we'd have them. And we were so happy just the two of us--three
with Alfred. But I don't tell Kal
this.
"He had kids," I
say. "Dick, and Barbara, and the
others he took in. And
"What about Catwoman? Didn't you
worry about her?" He laughs. "I used to have this fantasy where you
came to me crying because you'd found Catwoman in bed
with Bruce."
"If I'd found Catwoman in bed with Bruce, I'd have killed her. And possibly him too."
"Well, I didn't say it
was a fantasy that made sense." He
grins at me.
I laugh. "I was never sure what was between the
two of them. He'd be in a mood every
time he had a run-in with her. Alfred
told me to let go of the jealousy."
Actually, Alfred insisted on
using another TV reference. "She's
like Faith. You'll always be Buffy. Live with it."
I still miss that dear old
man.
"What?"
I do not tell Kal why I'm
chuckling. The reference would be lost
on him. But I do say, "I was just
thinking about Alfred's knack for handling Bruce. And me. He could get me to do nearly anything, no
matter how opposed I was to whatever he suggested. He had a genteel bullying style that was
impossible to resist."
"Bruce was lost when he
died."
"We both
were."
Alfred died quietly. He wrapped his passing with the same loving
dignity he'd shown in his life. And his
last thought was of Bruce. "Take
care of him, Diana," he said. He
knew that in time I'd have to watch Bruce die too.
"I loved Alfred. He was our family." He and the bat-kids who
traipsed in and out. Or who we
ran into when we patrolled
It had been the thing he
hated the most about getting old: losing
control.
Going Not Gently
The bedroom smells stale and
sour. Bruce is finally sleeping, and I
walk to the window, opening it slightly, trying not to wake him as I do
so. He sleeps so fitfully now.
I'm not stealthy enough.
"Don't open it,
Diana. I'm cold."
"Some fresh air would be
good."
"You can air out the
room as soon as I'm gone." He is
crotchety today.
I am worried by that. He has had so little energy lately, and now
this burst of irritation. The doctors
have told me this often happens just before the end, and I'm not ready for the
end.
I turn to close the window
and spend a long time fiddling with it so I can get myself under control. He does not need my tears.
"Are you crying?"
Wiping at my eyes, I
turn. "No."
"Liar." His voice is
tender suddenly. The
voice of the man who loves me, not the old man who resents that I am still
young while he is stuck in bed.
"Come here, Diana."
I go and sit by the bed,
taking his hand. His eyes gleam
strangely, and I feel as though I have a lump that begins in my stomach and
runs all the way to my throat, making it impossible to swallow.
"It's time, Diana."
"No." My voice breaks--there is no Wonder Woman
here, just plain old Diana whose heart is shattering. "Stay with me."
"We've had a good
life."
"Yes, we
have." I try to find the man I
first loved in the face of this old man.
He taught me so much, my Bruce.
And I taught him things too. And
I can still see him if I look for the love in my husband's eyes. "I love you, Bruce."
His smile is tinged with the
pain that never leaves him now. He
shifts slightly and starts to cough.
I realize this is the end,
and I feel a wave of dizziness.
"I know you and
Clark..." He closes his eyes.
"Bruce. Shhh."
"No, this must be
said." He squeezes my hand; his
grip is feeble. "It's all
right. I know he'll come for you. Eventually, the two of you..."
"Bruce, don't waste
strength on this." I put my fingers
on his lips.
He pushes my hand away. "You have to know that it's all
right."
"Bruce."
"Diana, I haven't been a
true husband to you for years. You
deserve happiness. You've given me so
much."
"I wasn't just the
giver. The love you gave me, Bruce--I
wouldn't be the person I am if I hadn't loved you."
I cannot stand this so I lean
down and kiss him. But his lips are hot
and dry, and they barely press back on mine.
I pull back. "Bruce?"
He tries to lift his hand but
can't, so I reach for him. He
squeezes. I can barely feel it.
He coughs again, then says, "My life started when you came to me that
night. I have never regretted loving
you." His words are hard to
hear. He is talking so softly that I
have to strain.
I wish I had Kal's
super-hearing; I don't want to miss anything he says. "Bruce, I'm glad I came too. It was the smartest thing I ever did." A tear slips down my cheek, and I dash it
away.
"It's all right,
love. You can cry."
"I'll cry later. Bruce, stay awhile."
His smile is so sweet and sad
it would break my heart if it wasn't already breaking. "I'll stay," he says. "For you, I'll stay." But then he glances away, his attention
caught by something at the end of the bed.
His face wrinkles in confusion for a moment, and then he starts to
smile. "Is my uniform ready, old
man?"
I try to see what he's
seeing, but there is no one there.
"Alfred?" I say, and I can almost feel a ghostly hand touch my
shoulder. "Alfred, don't take him
yet."
"Is it time to
go?" Bruce's grip on my hand is
weakening.
"No."
But he looks down at his
phantom Alfred not at me, and Alfred must be telling him another story. "I have to go, Diana."
And I can see that he is
already half gone, but he is fighting it and I know it is for my sake. "If you have to, Bruce, then you
should." I take a deep breath. There is an order to these things--a rightness--and I must play my part. Leaning in, I say, "Safe journey, my
love. May the afterlife be all that you
want it to be."
He turns to look at me and
smiles. This time he does lift his hand,
and I lean in so he can touch my hair.
"Diana, you glow. Did you know
that you gl--"
I can almost see the life
slipping out of him as his hand drops. I
hear a terrible ripping sob and realize I have made the sound.
His eyes are open; I close
them. "Goodbye, Bruce." I sit with him for a long time, not speaking,
not really even thinking. I feel
numb. And lost.
I've had him for so
long. First to love
and fight with, then to love and grow old with. And finally to love and
take care of. Now there is no
Bruce. There is only me and this
shattering pain that descends on me as I open the door. Falling to my knees, I weep huddled against
the door, my back to my husband's body.
I cannot look anymore. I want to
pretend that he is alive. I want to
pretend that he is more than the husk on the bed.
I hear footsteps, then hands are lifting me up. "Diana."
I think it is Kal and I
strike out. "Get out! Get
out!"
"Diana. It's me.
It's Dick."
The hands on me are not so strong as Kal's.
And he is thinner as my arms go around him and hold on for dear
life. This is Nightwing,
not Superman.
Dick belongs here. Even if he is too old to be
playing superhero anymore. I hate
the thought, force it out. Young, Dick
is young. They are all young. Bruce too. Bruce is young. Bruce is alive.
Bruce is dead,
my mind relentlessly tells the part of me that wants to create fantasies. Bruce is dead.
"I'm sorry," I
whisper, hating myself for ruining Dick's moment with Bruce. "I didn't know you were here."
"Barbara and Helena are
downstairs too. We didn't want to
intrude. We just wanted to be here for
you."
"And
the others?"
"Out
fighting. Evil doesn't stop for the death of an old crimefighter."
No. Nothing stops for that. Not even my heart even though I think it
should.
"I'll go down to
them." I touch Dick's face. "You say goodbye now."
"I will."
I leave him alone, walk
slowly down the stairs. My legs are
shaking, and I feel as if I might fall.
I nod, let her take care of
me. She seems glad to do it, and it is
not hard to let her. In fact, I probably
need her to, because I can't think what to do now that I have made it safely
down the stairs.
And I know there are things I
need to do. Steps I need to take. But my brain refuses to plan even what I will
do tomorrow. I probably should call the
lawyer. Bruce knew I did not want to
live here without him. He left the
mansion to Dick. We talked about it;
Bruce took care of it all. I should not
have to do anything other than be the grieving wife.
I am a widow. That thought is horrible as it falls around
me like a black shawl. I have lost a
husband. I have outlived a husband.
"He's gone," I say,
the words coming out as little more than breath.
"Yes," Barbara
says.
I get up, walk over to the door to the Batcave. It has not
been opened for so long. I hear Dick
coming down from the bedroom and turn to him.
"I should call this in."
"I can if you
want."
But I want to shake off the
fog that seems to be trying to drown me.
"No, I'll do it." Only
when I call the non-emergency number to report Bruce's death, I can't remember
the address of the mansion.
"Ma'am?" the young
man on the line is waiting, very gentle with me, very patient.
"Let me,
Diana." Barbara takes the phone
away from me and gives the dispatcher the information he needs.
"I know the
address," I say. "I just can't
remember it right now."
"You're
tired." Dick leads me away from the
phone, back to
I hear her saying,
"Sleep, Diana." She is pulling
me down to lie in the couch, my head in her lap.
I protest that I am not
tired, but she ignores me. As she
strokes my hair, I close my eyes for a moment.
And suddenly, I am with
Bruce. He is young again and being dragged
away from me by something I can't see.
I run after him, grabbing for
him as he disappears into the shadows.
I catch hold of his foot and pull, tugging almost hard enough to hurt
him. Finally I manage to free him, and I
drag him back into the light.
As the sunshine hits his
hair, and he looks up at me, I realize it is not Bruce--it is Kal.
I jerk awake.
I am alone. I push myself to my feet, walk to the window
that Bruce and Alfred used to stare out of.
How could I dream about Kal?
"Diana?"
I whirl. I did not hear
"It's okay," she
says. "I didn't mean to startle
you."
"You're still
here?"
"Dick
and Barbara too. They're with the EMTs."
I didn't hear them arrive,
was too lost in my dream. "Oh. Okay."
"And Superman's here."
"He shouldn't be
here."
That's right. He was Bruce's friend. And his lover once. He's not here because he loves me. He's here because he loves Bruce. "Where is he?"
"Upstairs. I wanted him to see Bruce before they take
him away."
I just nod.
I go back to my study of the
night.
"Diana?"
How could I mistake Dick's
voice for Kal's?
"I'm sorry." His voice is low and cracks with emotion.
I turn. Kal's eyes are red. He has been crying for Bruce.
"He's dead." If I say it enough times, it will seem real.
"Yes."
I feel dizzy, but I don't sit
down. Even being dizzy is better than
the fog that seems to hover around me.
"I've got you," Kal
says as he eases me into a chair.
"I'm all right."
"Yes, you always slump
down the wall that way." Despite his
words, there is no humor in his voice, just concern and his own pain. "Let me get you some water."
"I don't need
water." I don't know what I
need. Except for my
husband not to be dead. That
would be a thing I need.
"Do you want me to
leave?"
"Yes."
He starts to move away.
"No."
He stops.
"He's gone."
"Yes." He stands where he stopped, not moving toward
me, not turning to leave. He stands
there as only a Superman can, while I state the obvious in elementary fashion
and the bat-kids who look at least twice our age bustle around being useful.
Finally, he moves. Taking the chair across from me, he exhales
loudly. "Do you need
anything?"
"No." My response is immediate; horrified. I keep seeing Kal in the dream.
"I mean do you need anything
done?"
"Oh. No.
Thank you." I am fading into
the fog again.
"I'm going to go
now."
"That's a good
idea," I say, trying to muster up some emotion. But all I feel is numb.
He stands up, then reaches
over and touches my hair.
"Don't."
He jerks his hand away.
"Go. Now."
"He was my friend
too."
He was more than a
friend--our relationships are too complicated to be contained nicely by that
word. But I choose not to say that. Or maybe the fog won't let me. Either way, I just nod.
"If you need me..."
"I know where you
are," I say as he leaves.
Kal has moved into the
Fortress full time. He is already
pulling away like Bruce feared he would.
Bruce didn't want that for me. Bruce
wanted me to feel.
I hope he won't mind if I let
the fog take me over...just for tonight.
For tonight, I don't want to feel anything, especially not this terrible
emptiness as I watch the EMTs take my husband away in
a bag.
I close my eyes and will
myself to feel nothing.
It doesn't work.
Specters of the Future
"You avoided me for
weeks," Kal says,
"I avoided everyone for
weeks."
He shoots me a look, and I
smile.
"Okay, I avoided you
especially." I reach into the
backpack we've brought with us and pull out some fruit the chef at the Embassy cut
for us. She's new and I like her. But she's no Ferdinand.
"Mmmm." He moves closer as I hold the bag out. "You know what I want?"
"I am not peeling you a
grape, Kal."
He makes a pleading face, and
I relent, peeling slowly, laughing as his smile grows. I finish and admire my work. He opens his mouth.
I pop it into my own mouth
instead.
He moves toward me. "Do I have to come get it?"
I nod, my mouth closed around
the grape. I haven't bitten down; it
rests whole and juicy on my tongue.
"Open up," he says,
then he kisses me, his tongue pressing gently until I
let my lips slide open slightly, teasing him.
He can get his tongue in
enough to touch the grape, but he can't slip it out of my mouth. So he just kisses me for a long time until I open
wide enough for him to steal the grape from me.
I let him enjoy it and grab another one from the bag. Biting into it, I split the firm skin and let
the sweet juice roll over my tongue.
"Did you feel
guilty?" he asks. "Is that why
you avoided me?"
"Like you after Lois
died? Yes, I did." I munch on a slice of apple.
He digs around in the bag,
coming out with pieces of plum and peach.
"You wouldn't even talk about him back then. I didn't know what you were feeling..."
"I couldn't talk about him."
"He was my friend
too. You weren't the only one who lost
something."
I thought of that often back
then and had felt even guiltier that I was punishing Kal for being what I
wanted. "I know." I snuggle closer, and he holds out the peach to
me.
Taking a bite, I close my
eyes, just enjoying the fruit and the night and the fact that I am spending it
only with him--and a bunch of ghosts.
"I didn't want to talk about him.
I was too busy holding him close inside me. I didn't want to let go."
He touches my lips, wiping
away some juice. "I understand
that."
"And then you'd get mad
if we talked about him."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you
did." I watch the plum. In the past, if we'd been having this
argument, he'd have squeezed the life out of it by now. But it sits unhurt in his hand, waiting for
one of us to eat it.
He looks down. "See.
I'm getting better." He
polishes off the plum. "Not that I
didn't want to squash the hell out of it, mind you. It's going to take a long time before I don't
hurt over Bruce." He holds up a
hand when I start to protest. "I
know, I know. I had Lois. I didn't have a right to hurt over you being
with him. I understand that. I even believe that. Unfortunately, I never could convince my heart
of that."
The way he strings words
together can be very sweet. I kiss him,
and he tastes of plumy peaches. Pulling
me onto him, not minding the bag of fruit that we are crushing into the sand, he
kisses me. He is unhurried, takes his
time, making me moan as his hands find places that love to be touched. Reaching over into the bag, he pulls out a
piece of plum, then rolls me to my back. Squeezing juice over my belly, he licks it
off.
"You're going to make me
all sticky." I am teasing. He is leaving nothing behind him in his quest
for juice.
"There is a very big
bathtub just thataway," he says, cocking a thumb
toward the sea.
I am about to say something
smart, but his tongue has left my belly and found more sensitive places to
explore. I moan, and soon I am doing much
more than moaning. As I spiral down from
where he's sent me, he squeezes out more juice, into my mouth this time. He knows how dry my mouth gets after I come. Then he holds the fruit to my lips, and I
suck at it for a moment before eating it.
Lifting my eyes to his, I let them roam lower and lower, bound for
naughtiness.
"Now, what are you
thinking about?" He smiles as I
push him away from me and onto his back.
I don't bother with fruit as I
kiss around his groin, getting closer and closer and teasing him terribly
before I finally take him. His hand
tangles in my hair gently, not holding me there, just connecting with me as I
send him to heaven.
I notice his toes are curled
and smile. They don't call me Wonder
Woman for nothing.
Lying down on my back next to
him, my arm touching his, I stare up at the stars. "While you were
waiting for me, Kal. After Lois died. Did
you ever fall for anyone else?"
"Nope." His hand finds
mine, holding softly. "I only
wanted you."
"Love was that simple
for you?" I ask, looking over at him.
"Diana, loving you has
never been simple." His hand
tightens on mine.
"Was I worth the
wait?"
He looks over at me, smiling
gently.
"Yes?"
"I'll tell you a secret." He rolls to his side, pulling me to mine so
we face each other. "If we hadn't
been kept apart for so long, I'm not sure it would be this sweet now." He touches my cheek. "I never take us for granted. I don't think I ever will."
"I'll have to whup you if you do," I say, affecting a silly southern
accent.
He laughs. "Yes, you will." He stares into my eyes, which with anyone
else would be utterly sappy, but with him it just seems right. Then he closes the distance between us and
kisses me. It's a kiss full of love,
full of promise. A kiss that mends the
tears and rents in our souls--damage we did to each other and to ourselves.
"Do you remember our
first time?" I ask.
He smiles. "I'll never forget it."
Thunder and Lighting
"Are you all
right?" Kal's voice is low as if he
thinks that I'll bolt if he talks too loud.
"Yes." I am all right, but it's odd to be back in
the watchtower again.
We stand in the conference
room. Our chairs are occupied by others
now, but I'm standing on Kal's right, his second still. Even if these youngsters don't seem very glad
we helped out on this latest mission.
"You're welcome to stay
for the meeting if you want," Domino says.
But it is clear he is not interested in having us hang around.
"We'll just take a quick
tour and leave," Kal says.
They all look relieved.
He turns, and I follow
him. In front of this younger version of
the League, I want to appear to be in lockstep with him. They think they don't need us, but they do. But like Bruce grew weary of superheroes, I
find I have too.
"Were we that
arrogant?" I ask.
"Probably." Kal smiles at
me and holds his hand out to me, and I take it.
I let him back into my life a
few months ago. I expected him to rush
things the way he had the first time we met alone, but he's taken it at Smallville speeds.
Dinners, walks in the park, long talks by a roaring fire, and easy,
gentle good-night kisses. He's not
rushing me this time. It's nice.
It's also making me wonder if
he wants me the way he used to.
"Working together
again," he says, as we walk through the Tower. "It's good."
"It is." We sparred again. It's been decades since we did that. It felt good to let go that way. To fight someone who was my equal. To not have to be mindful
of brittle old bones.
I feel a quiver of
guilt. I loved Bruce. And it's not a betrayal to admit that he grew
old, that I had to be careful. It's not
treason to be happy with someone who can keep up with me.
And Bruce gave me
permission. He said it was all right.
I pull my hand from Kal's.
"Diana?"
"Just...just give me a
minute, all right?" I head into the
women's locker room. It is empty, and I
rest my head against the mirror, breathing hard.
I want Kal, and I feel bad
about wanting Kal. It's been years
since I've made love. And the fighting
on this mission was so intense, and Kal was there always looking out for me,
just as I was looking out for him.
I think both of us will be
damned if the other is going to be taken away before we touch.
"Diana?" He is at the door.
"Women's
room, Kal."
"You're the only woman
in here." He walks up behind me,
meeting my eyes in the mirror. "We
look pretty together, don't we?" He
says it matter-of-factly, as if he's commenting on the clouds in the sky.
And we do look pretty
together. My black hair matches his, our
eyes shine the same blue in the harsh light of the locker room. Red and gold and blue costumes compliment
each other. He is slightly taller, much bigger.
And we are both staring at each other with the same helpless look.
"I haven't rushed
you," he says as he strokes my arms, then sweeps
my hair off my neck.
"I know."
"If you don't want me to
do this"--he leans down and kisses the back of my neck--"then just
tell me and I'll stop."
The feeling I get as he
kisses me is electric, and my knees buckle.
He catches me, holding me
until I find my feet again. "I
guess you do want me to do that?"
A moan is the only answer I
give him.
"Do you want to go to
the Fortress?" He is watching me in
the mirror.
"Yes," I say, and
then I close my eyes.
This moment has arrived
finally, and I want him so badly. But
I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm going to
lose Bruce if I move on to Kal.
"If you want to wait, I
will. I've waited this long; I can wait
till you're ready."
I turn in his arms, and stare
up at him. Part of me does want to
wait. But waiting won't help--I'll
always feel guilty about this. Until it's
done, I'll feel guilty. Maybe even
after.
But Bruce said it was all
right--it's becoming a mantra.
I take Kal's hand. "Let's go."
He swallows suddenly, then
turns and leads me to the teleporter. As we walk, he whispers, "He's
here. Tonight. Can you feel him?"
"Yes." I wasn't going to say it, but I've felt him
since we got back to the Tower.
"He's the heart of this
place. The heart of the League, even if
those young yahoos are too sure of their strength to ever understand his
message."
"Kal, can we not talk
about him?"
He looks hurt but nods
quickly, and I worry that I have just ruined our night. He doesn't look at me as he programs the teleporter and pulls me into it with him. It sets us down in Metropolis, on the roof of
the Daily Planet, and I wonder at his choice.
As far as I know, he has not been back to this building since he let
"This was my home for so
long."
"I know."
"I was happy here."
"Maybe you could be
again?" I am not sure what he wants
me to say.
He looks over at me. His face is a mask that would rival the best
Batman blankface.
"Kal?"
His smile breaks through the
blankness like the sun peeking out from a cloud. "Diana, don't you know the only place
I'll ever be happy is with you?"
I find myself smiling
too. "You've been going awfully slow. I wasn't sure
if you still wanted me."
He moves closer, puts his
arms around me, then lifts off. As we
slowly fly south, he kisses me gently.
But I can tell the passion we've denied is trying to break through.
We land in front of the
Fortress. It is ages since I have been
here. Kal's hand is firm on my back, and
he kisses me again in front of the entrance before he signals for access. As the door opens, he surprises me, scooping
me up and carrying me over the threshold of his lair.
He doesn't put me down once
we're inside, but carries me slowly, kissing me the whole way through the
Fortress as he heads for the habitat area.
I expect him to carry me to his bedroom, but he turns and walks into the
living room, dropping into a chair, never stopping the kiss as we sink into the
soft cushions.
His hand is roaming down my
side, and I am running my fingers through his hair, digging into his
scalp. He moans, and we finally come up
for air.
"Diana." He looks lost. Utterly and completely
lost. As if I am everything in
his life--the only thing in his life.
"I love you so."
"Kal. My love." I
touch his face gently, the way I have always wanted to. Tracing his lips, running
lightly over his eyebrows. Connecting the pale freckles that you can only see on his nose when
you are this close.
His eyes are half closed, and
he lets out a sigh. "So
long. We've waited so long."
"Yes, we
have." I kiss him again. Kiss him because we have waited so long, and we
don't have to wait any longer.
Our kiss this time is
different. There is fire between us now,
and it pushes us to go faster, to kiss harder, to hold
on tighter. Kal pushes me off his lap,
and I pull him up after me. He takes my
uniform off carefully, yanks his own off with much less care. We stand naked before each other.
He doesn't tell me I'm
beautiful, and I think it is because he's been looking at me for decades
now. What was a surprise for Bruce has
never been hidden to Kal and his super-vision.
But I've had no such preview. And
Kal is beautiful with his supple skin and perfect build.
I move toward him slowly
until our bodies are touching. Skin to skin, finally.
I groan, hear Kal echo the sound.
We sink together to the rug,
and he is kissing my neck, then he begins to move down my body. He stops frequently, kissing, sucking, licking. I am
writhing by the time he gets to the heart of me. When he finally touches me there, I nearly
scream. I hear him chuckle,
can imagine the smile he is wearing.
"I love you, Kal,"
I murmur as he teases me, taking me to the brink and then pulling back. I am twisting underneath him, practically
begging him to finish it, but he does not.
The exquisite torture goes on for what seems like forever until he
finally lets me come. I am shaking
violently when he pulls away from me.
He moves back up to lie next
to me, and there is a strange look on his face as he leans in to kiss me.
I can taste myself on him,
and I taste right on him. I was worried
that this might not work. That after all
this time, we'd find out we were all wrong together. "Kal?"
"You will never forget
this, Diana." His
eyes burn into me. "You will
never forget our first time."
I know why he is doing this;
he has had months to plan this. And I
think it is motivated less by love for me, than his anger at what Bruce had
from me--what he thinks Bruce stole from him.
But Kal's shaky motivation for making me die from pleasure does not mean
he is not right. If what he just did to
me is any indication, then I will never, ever forget this night.
But two can play that game. When I can
move again, I slide down his body, my hands massaging him and scratching
lightly. At first, he just smiles, but
then he starts to moan. I know from
experience that the feelings this technique call up will build slowly. Bruce taught me this. I do not think he will mind that I am
teaching Kal. If things had been
different, maybe he would have done it himself.
I have worked my way past the
critical areas without touching Kal, and I am now down near Kal's ankle. He is moving slowly, as if he cannot lie
still. I work my way back up the same
side and he reaches for me, trying to tug me onto him.
I resist. And I am strong enough to resist. I may be the only person who can resist a Kal
this aroused. I push his hands
away. "Behave," I say softly.
"Diana."
"Shhh." I go back to
my massage-torture, and he is soon writhing under my hands as I work my way
down his other side. If I've done my
part right--and judging from the red patches on his chest, I think I have--he
is so sensitive to my touch that he will jump with anticipation every time I
drop my fingers down on him. I get to
his foot and start to work my way back up, his skin twitching as I go.
I can tell he thinks I'm
going to start over. But I don't. I lean down, my mouth relentless on him.
And he lets out a startled
cry as I press down even more, increasing the pressure.
He is too aroused to last
long. And when he lets go, his cries are
very loud.
I crawl back up to him. "Kal?"
He looks over at me. His eyes are glassy.
"You will never, ever
forget--"
He bursts out laughing. "Come here," he says, as he pulls
me to him with a little less of his normal vigor.
I ended up squashed against
him, but I don't mind. I kiss him, and I
know that he can taste himself on me.
When I pull away, he smiles, licking his lips slowly.
"Sex is a messy
thing," I say.
He gives me a silly
smile. "It is if you do it
right."
"You feel better?"
I ask. Despite making him laugh with the
statement, I do want him to move past the hurt and anger and enjoy this--enjoy
me and the love I feel for him. The love
I know he feels for me.
He nods, but he is suddenly
not meeting my eyes.
"I understand,
Kal." He is complicated, but I have
had over a thousand years to get to know how he thinks.
"I know you understand,
Diana. That's your best quality...and
your most disconcerting one." He is
rubbing my arm now, tracing words that I cannot decipher on my skin.
"What are you
writing?"
He grins. Then he does it slowly. It says "SM+WW" and I smile.
"Silly." He shrugs.
"Not silly. Sweet. I love it." Kissing him, I let him push me over. I can feel him against me. Ready for me.
We don't say a word as we
press our bodies together. We fit
perfectly, and I close my eyes at the sensation of being joined with a man I
love after so much time.
"God, Diana."
"I know." I can barely talk. It is cliche to say
I'm overcome, but I am. I feel his hand
on my chin, making me look up, making me meet his eyes. I feel as if I'm drowning in them. Then I can't see him anymore, and I realize
I'm crying.
"It's okay," he
says, and I know he realizes I am crying for several reasons.
I am crying because this is
so damn good. I am crying because the
longer Kal is inside me, the more he is pushing Bruce back to the far reaches
of my heart, back to the past. And I am
crying because in a way that is a relief.
I want to live again.
And I know that Bruce would
want that too.
He gave me permission.
Kal is watching me, his
expression so tender that I sob softly.
"I have loved you
forever. I will love you at least that
long." He kisses me hard and fast,
and he is moving the same way, thrusting against me in a way that only someone
as strong as I could take.
And I do more than take
it. I respond to it. I've never felt like this. I let go, let myself claw at him, feel him
groan in reply.
We are like wild things, pummeling each other with our bodies, and when
pleasure takes us, it does so with a wild vengeance.
We crash together and lie
panting. Kal pulls down a throw and
covers us with it, and I realize I am shuddering.
He holds me close, kissing my
neck. "I love you," he says, his
lips lingering on my ear, his breath warm and making me shiver.
"I love you,
Kal." I turn to meet his lips with
my own. "I think neither of us will
ever forget this night."
He grins and says, "Yes,
but will either of us survive it?"
His hand dips down to touch me and I jump because I am so sensitive.
"I don't know."
His grin only gets
bigger. "Wanna
find out?"
He knows I can't resist a
challenge. "Okay." I am grinning as broadly as he is as I crawl
on top of him. I have a feeling we may
survive this, but I'm having serious doubts that when our first time is over,
I'll remember how to do anything complicated like walk or think.
Or remember my own name. Hopefully, I won't need to know it anytime
soon.
Sleepy Legacy
The Embassy is quiet as Kal
and I arrive home. Artemis looks up from
a book she is reading. I see her stick
it into the pillows and know that it will be a horror novel of Lina's. Her aunt,
the terror of Themyscira, is seemingly addicted to trashy fiction that scares
the pants off her.
"You're finally
home," she says.
"Yep." Kal smiles at
her and gets little back. But then he's
used to it. Artemis has never warmed to
him. But he doesn't mind--she didn't
like Bruce even more.
She gets up, and I notice she
has pushed the book even more into the cushions. I walk over, see that it is Lina's book, and pull it out.
"Artemis, don't you want
to know if they get back from Mars?"
"Oh, I wasn't reading
it."
I toss it to her. "Finish it. It's a great book."
Her eyebrow goes up. I just grin.
It's not just Lina's aunt who's addicted to
certain kinds of fiction.
Kal is peeking into the TV
room. It is dark. "Lina?"
"After
I caught her having sex with that boy and his friend, I sent her to bed." Artemis can
say something like this with a straight face.
She does not even break in the face of Kal' s
double-take. "I am kidding. She is upstairs asleep."
Kal relaxes. He does not understand Artemis's sense of
humor. Actually, he is not convinced she
has one. Screwing with his mind does not
constitute humor in his opinion.
"Did you like her young
man?" he asks her.
"No." But then Artemis doesn't like any young
men. She's not too fond of older ones
either.
For his part, Kal doesn't
look unhappy about her opinion. He can't
stand the thought that he will lose his little girl someday.
"Not sleepy," I
hear from the stairs. It is Mafuto. He is the
newest addition to our brood and is still not comfortable with the idea of us
leaving him alone. Not that we let that
stop us from leaving.
But we always have some
making up to do with his little four-year-old heart.
Kal walks over and swings him
up, and Mafuto's grin is immediate, as he scrunches
down in his adopted father's arms.
"He had a
nightmare," Artemis says softly.
"I decided not to make him go back to sleep."
I nod. Since we rescued him from the refugee camp,
he's had a lot of nightmares. But
they're becoming less frequent and less violent. It still shocks me what can be done to a
child. And how much a child can endure
without breaking. If he needs a little
extra attention when we leave him alone, it's to be understood. His mother went out one day to get food for
him and never came home. We found him
foraging among the garbage cans of the relief workers' enclosure. With no surviving family members, he was as
much a pariah as those dogs that skulked on the outskirts of town. And nearly as hostile.
The smile he gives Kal is a
welcome sight. When we first brought him
home, we weren't sure he'd ever smile.
Kal looks over at me. "I'll take him up and tell him stories
of Bruce until he falls asleep."
For some reason, Mafuto finds bat-tales soothing.
"You smell like
sex," Artemis says as she walks by, the book tucked under her arm.
"That's because we had
sex."
"All
night." Artemis sounds more disgusted than envious.
"You don't know what
you're missing."
"No. I don't.
And that's the way it should be.
We're Amazons, Diana."
I look down. I'm at peace with who I am. An Amazon who's not quite
what she should be.
"I'm not like you,
Artemis. Not a proper Amazon. I was formed of clay. And this world has molded me." And pain has fired me. And love has scored me and made me beautiful.
I was born of earth. And I am dirty and damp and full of things
that nice little Amazons might be scared of.
I am a woman; I am Superman's woman, and I was Batman's before
that. And I am my own woman.
I belong first to myself,
then to the men I love and the children I have found. Then to the world. And whatever is left, that can go to those who hold outdated notions that I can't lose myself in
the way Kal's body feels against me, or that I can't enjoy memories of racing
along
If they think I regret the
turns my life has taken, they are wrong.
I am surprised when Artemis
turns around and smiles at me. She holds
the book up. "Will I like the
ending?"
I think of how it surprised
me the first time. "Oh, yes."
She nods, then
takes the portal home to Themyscira; the book goes with her.
I put the backpack in the
kitchen, then wander upstairs. I hear can hear Kal's voice, low and sweet as
he tells Mafuto bat-bedtime stories. I peek into the other rooms, checking on the
others. Ana and Mei
and Tara all sleep soundly, but when I open Edvard's
door, he turns to me.
"What is it?" I ask
softly.
He reaches out, and I go to
him. His eyes are covered with a film
where they are not pinched with scar tissue, blind and strange looking. I never tell anyone, but I feel a deeper
connection with Edvard than with the others--and I
love them all with a fierce devotion.
But this child touches me deeper, touches me in the part of my heart
that is still blind.
"Mafuto
had a nightmare," he says.
"I know. It's just a remnant."
Edvard takes a deep breath.
"It was about a man who hurt him."
"Did he tell you
this?"
He nods. Then he says, "Will the man hurt
me?"
Edvard didn't start out blind. But acid does terrible things to eyes.
"No,
love. No one will hurt you. They'll have to get through me to find
you."
He seems to take comfort in
that. "I love you,
Diana." Unlike the others, he has
never wanted to call me "mother."
He remembers his mother. She
stood by while the man she lived with blinded her only son. Mother, for Edvard,
does not stand for good things.
"I love you,
sweetheart." I settle him back in
bed and leave him.
Kal is coming out of Mafuto's room as I open Lina's
door. She is asleep too. It is a ritual to check on them all this way,
even if Kal could do it for us in a second with his super-vision.
Kal holds out his hand. "Bed?"
I am suddenly very
tired. We won't be able to sleep long. We stayed for hours more than we'd originally
intended on our little island. Re-creating our first night together.
"I love you," he
says. Then he looks around. "I love our family."
When he kisses me, it is with
tenderness not passion. We've burned the passion out for one night.
"Let's go to bed,"
the other half of my soul says, and I follow him into our bedroom.
I would follow him
anywhere. And I know he'd follow me too.
We're lucky. Lucky he fell to Earth. Lucky I was created from it. Lucky that when sky and
ground collide, they make love.
I glance over at Kal. He grins back, and looks down, waggling his
eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, as if I'm
only doing this as a favor for him, but I'm already pulling his clothes off as
he closes the door.
Maybe passion isn't quite
burned out for the night.
FIN