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.
Seeing Beyond Tomorrow
by Djinn
Warning: SPOILERS for Adventures of Superman 636 and for WW issue 212.
Bruce watched Diana walk
through his study. She reached out, her
fingers touching chairs as she went, counting steps, memorizing the map of his
furniture. She came up on a low table;
he tensed, expecting her to hit it, but she slowed and her leg only bumped it
softly. She didn't lose her balance,
just reached down, getting to know the table.
"This used to be by the
window. I recognize the carvings on the
leg." She turned to where he was
standing. "You moved this
recently?"
He had moved it minutes
before she'd arrived. And he'd known
she'd recognize it, had chosen it because she would.
She just smiled when he
didn't answer. "Another
of your damn tests?"
"You object to my testing
you?"
"You know I do. But I know objecting is futile. You'll test me until you're sure." She turned, walking back to him quickly. She didn't reach out, didn't bump into
anything. It was like she was the bat, echolocating as she went.
She stopped before she got to him.
"You offered me a drink?"
"I have it
here." He pressed it into her hand.
She sipped at it, made a
face. "What is this?"
"Twelve-year
old scotch." He smiled as she tried it again, the same
grimace taking over her face--or what he could see of it. Between the red blindfold she'd taken to
wearing and her tiara, half of her face was covered.
"Another
test?" She handed the glass back to him, then turned, walking toward the fireplace. "It's cold. Why no fire?"
He moved closer to her. "I didn't think you'd be here that
long." He touched her
shoulder--bare because she was wearing her uniform. She hadn't done that before: worn the uniform
during off hours. Was she trying to
prove a point? And to
which one of them? "Besides,
you don't get cold."
"I get cold." She turned her head, so she was looking back
at him--he sighed, was it a slip of the tongue to say looking when she couldn't
look anymore? Did he need to excise
words like that from his vocabulary with her?
See. Look. Sight.
He turned away, afraid that
even if she couldn't see, she'd be able to tell how angry he was over what
she'd done. Why the hell hadn't she made
a sturdier blindfold on the battlefield?
One that Medusa couldn't just yank off?
Why did she have to blind herself?
"Bruce?" For the first time that night she sounded
uncertain.
"Why did you come
here?" he asked. "When you
called, you didn't say why you wanted to come over."
"I felt uncomfortable
after we talked to Kal. You were so
quiet on the way back." She was
lying. And she never lied.
"So you came to check on
me? I'm fine. You can go now. I'll walk you to your plane." He made his voice harsher than normal, terse
and final so she'd get the message that it was time to go. So she'd leave before he said something
they'd both regret because she was getting in, getting farther than she ever
had before. And this time, she didn't
appear to be trying.
"All right, I didn't
come for you. I came for me." She took a deep breath--he'd never known her
to have to gather courage just for a talk.
"I understand it's in your nature to test people. And I don't expect to be exempt. But the League? Why do I have to be reevaluated by the
League?"
He didn't say anything.
"Is it because I make you
nervous?" She moved, found him where he'd stopped and touched his arm. "Does Oracle?"
He pulled away from her. "We're not going to talk about
Barbara."
"Being paralyzed is
something that was done to her. But I
did this to myself. I had a choice; she
didn't."
"This isn't about
Oracle. Barbara moved on; she left
Batgirl behind and found a new way to make a difference."
"And that's what you
think I should do? Leave Wonder Woman
behind? I can't. I am Wonder Woman; she's not some alter ego I
can put in a box." She turned,
sighing so loud it came out as a huff.
He pulled her back to face
him. "The test isn't for me. I've seen you in action. You saved my life the other day, and we both
know it."
"Then why?"
He'd never heard her sound so
betrayed. Not even when she'd discovered
he'd created the means to kill her. Not
even when she'd voted to kick him out of the League.
When he didn't answer, she
turned away from him, toward the door. "You and your damn secrets." She moved fast, faster than he expected.
He had to run to catch
her. "Diana, wait."
She stopped, turning toward
him. "Why the
test, Bruce?"
"It's not for you, and
it's not for me. It's for them. The rest of them. I know you can still fight. But they don't. And they'll be looking out for you. Making mistakes trying to
protect you. We can't afford
that." He pulled her close, as
close as he had on that battlefield when he'd kissed her. That damned kiss that had started them down
this road.
That
wonderful, amazing kiss.
"
She smiled at his choice of
words. He traced her smile with his
fingers, then realized what he was doing and dropped his hand.
"You're not going to
protect me?" she asked.
"No. I'm not," he said. "You want to fight by my side, then fight by my side.
And frankly, it'll be me fighting by your side. You're stronger."
"You only say that
because you think you're smarter."
"I am
smarter."
"I guess we'll find out,
won't we?" She moved closer, her
body just shy of being pressed against him.
"They'll hold back. When they fight me.
Your test won't be worth anything."
"It will be for
She frowned. "What are you planning?"
He only smiled. She frowned again, then
lifted her fingers to his face, tracing the smile.
"That's the one I don't
like," she said. "The
smile that means only bad things."
She kept moving, her fingers sliding over his cheek, then across his
brow, down his nose, back to his lips.
"I never mean bad things
for you."
The idiocy of that comment
hung between them, and she laughed softly.
He tried again. "Okay, other than planning how to kill
you, I never mean bad things." He smiled.
"That's a real
one." Her own smile grew.
"What do you feel when
you do that?"
She reached down, pulled his
hand up slowly. "Close your
eyes."
Smiling under her hand, he
did what she said. He felt her lay his
fingers on her cheek, let his hand slip down, learning the curve of her jaw,
then he moved back up, felt her cheekbones, then the soft material of the
blindfold. He skimmed over it, up to the
tiara, then to her hair--it was always coarser than he expected. He heard her sigh, then
she began to explore his face again.
Keeping his eyes closed, he
ran his fingers around to the back of her head and pulled her closer. She dropped her hand, and he could tell she'd
lifted her chin, that her lips were right under his.
The kiss on the battlefield
had been frantic and rushed and full of the desperate certainty that he would
never see her again. This kiss was slow
and unhurried despite the fact that she would never see anything again.
When he finally pulled away,
she said, "Are you doing this now because you feel sorry for me?"
"No." He took her hand, pulling her out of the
room.
They walked slowly, her hand
clasped tightly in his, and he let her get her bearings. "Stairs," he said, uncertain if she
would welcome that much help.
"I know," she said
quickly. Then she sighed.
"What?"
"If we were somewhere
that I didn't know very well, that kind of information would be a good
thing."
He could tell it had cost her
something to say that. She was so like
him. She'd rather do everything on her
own, didn't like to admit that she needed help.
"We might be able to
work up something, some kind of sensory feed." Maybe something that really did use
echolocation?
She just nodded.
"We can talk about that
later."
"Okay." She was clasping his hand even more
tightly.
He could tell she was
hesitating, and he turned. "We're
going up to my bedroom, Diana. Is that
what you want to do?"
She nodded.
"Not an overwhelming
endorsement."
He saw her swallow; her lips
seemed to be pressed together very tightly.
Taking the last step, he resisted telling her they were there. She didn't stumble. But again she seemed to hesitate.
Stopping, he pulled her
close. "What is it?"
She pressed against him, but
her body was tense, as if she was holding herself in check for some reason.
"Diana? If you don't want to do this, we'll go back
downstairs."
"I'm afraid."
He started to say something
but she lifted her hand, her fingers falling on his mouth.
"I'm not afraid of
you. Or of sex. I'm afraid that if I let you in..." She swallowed again.
"That
if you let me in, you'll break?"
She nodded.
"If you break, it'll be
our secret." He kissed her
cheek. "If you break, I'll catch
you."
"I thought you said you
wouldn't protect me."
"I lied," he
whispered, his lips pressed against her hair, over her ear.
She shuddered, and he felt
her relax. Pulling him this time, she
got them started down the hall, then let him lead her to his bedroom. He closed the door and drew her over to his
bed, pulling her uniform down, letting her show him the best way to undo
it. She took the tiara off and handed it
to him. He stared down at her, finally
seeing what
"Bruce?"
"I'm admiring you,"
he said softly.
"Oh."
He reached for the blindfold,
but her hands flew up, grabbing at the fabric.
"Don't."
"I want to see
you."
"My eyes...they look
strange. Or so I've been
told." She took a deep breath. "Artemis, with her normal lack of tact,
told me that while she doesn't care what I look like, she thought other people
would find them creepy."
"That's perfect,
Diana. People find me creepy too."
Smiling slightly, she dropped
her hands. "I guess you have a
point."
He untied the blindfold, let
it drop and said, "Open your eyes."
She did, and he was startled
at first by the semi-opaque film that seemed to cover both eyes.
"I had pretty
eyes."
"Yes, you
did." He decided not to coddle
her. They weren't pretty anymore. But they didn't put him off. It was just...new. "The film covering them...it looks
odd."
"Magic." She
shrugged. "The healers can't fix
it."
"I hate
magic."
"I'm not terribly fond
of it right now either, Bruce." She
smiled, a brave smile, but her lips trembled and he had to kiss her, his hands
running up and down her bare back.
She pulled away from him,
whispering, "You're overdressed, Mister Wayne."
"Yes, I am."
He wasn't sure if she would
remedy that for him, was pleased when she pulled off his clothes with rather
sure hands. She obviously wasn't new at
this. He found himself both disappointed
and relieved, but kept that to himself, busying
himself with easing the bedcovers back.
He pulled her to him, startled by how right it felt to stand with her skin to
skin. Nestling against him perfectly,
her body fit his as if they were made for each other.
"Diana, when you used J'onn's machine, you said we ended badly."
"Does it matter? It was only my idea of how it would go. My subconscious...not some
kind of oracle."
"It matters. Did you lie?"
"Yes."
"And here I thought you
never did that."
"I'm not a paragon, even
if people make me into one. I'm just a
woman."
He decided not to tell her
that she would never, ever be just a woman.
"If you'd told me the truth...or if I'd gone under and seen what I
really thought, we might have--"
"--Well, I didn't and
you didn't." She kissed him. "I've always had to believe you pulled
away from me for a reason."
"Maybe so I'd be here
now? When you really need me?" He kissed her again, and there was something
different about this kiss.
She was letting him in--or
maybe, he was letting her in. He pulled
her closer, then fell back with her onto the bed. Neither of them let go, kissing slowly,
deliberately. There was great purpose
and passion and more tenderness than he usually allowed himself to feel. He moved over her until he could join with
her fully, and closed his eyes at the sensation.
"God, Diana." He started to move, but she made a sound, and
he couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or protest, so he stopped. "Are you all right?"
She nodded,
staring up at him with those strange, sightless eyes that he knew would soon
become beautiful to him because they were hers.
Then she pulled him back down to kiss her, and they found a rhythm
together, soft and hard mixing in a way that left them both breathless.
When they finally lay
quietly, she cuddled against him, and he felt her shudder again.
"Are you cold?"
She nodded. "I've been cold since I killed
Medusa."
He pulled the covers up
around them. She continued to shake, and
he realized she was crying. He didn't say
anything, just pulled her closer, wiping her tears away.
"I just want to be
strong." Her voice was muffled,
lost in his chest.
"You are strong. You're the strongest person I've ever
known."
"No, I'm not. It was easy before. Now..."
"So, it's not easy
anymore." He kissed her. "So, you try a little harder."
She shook her head.
"Do you think I don't
understand that? Do you think I don't
come home from some of our missions wondering if I've gone crazy? There are days I can barely get out of bed I
hurt so bad."
She raised her head, staring at him.
"I didn't think--"
He stroked her cheek. "I know.
But now...now you understand."
"Is that why you're
letting me in?"
"Maybe." He touched the
soft skin around her eyes gently.
"Or maybe it's that I had to just sit by and watch as you were
nearly killed by that monster. And when
you got back up, when you killed her and rode out of that arena, I got another
chance--we got another chance. A chance
I want to take."
She smiled and lay her head
back down on his chest. "I've been
lonely. For so long..."
"I know." He found her hand, clasped it. "Don't be lonely now. I'm here.
We're together."
"And
tomorrow. If the reevaluation doesn't
go well?"
"Tomorrow isn't here
yet. Don't borrow trouble."
"What? No protestations that you'll quit the League
too?"
"The thought has crossed
my mind." He tightened his hold on
her. "We have to think of what's
best for them. Ultimately, that's what
matters."
She nodded, but there was a sadness in her face that he wished he wasn't responsible
for.
He touched her face. "You know I'll make the hard
calls."
"I know you
will."
"And you know, don't
you, how much I love you?"
She shook her head.
"I do. I love you and I have for a long time. It's why I kissed you that day. It's probably why I didn't kiss you again
after that day. And it's why we're here
now."
"I love you
too." She kissed him, and he pulled
her half on top of him, so he could reach her mouth better.
Then he let her go. "You have a test tomorrow. You should rest."
"I'm not tired,"
she said as she crawled the rest of the way onto him.
She didn't take it slow this
time, didn't take it easy on him. He
kept up with her...barely. And he
thought he might die from pleasure. She
enjoyed herself too, if her dreamy smile was any indication. Or her loud cries.
He hoped Alfred was safely occupied in the kitchen. Or better yet the batcave.
She sighed, and it sounded
like she was letting go of a lot more than just breath.
Then she yawned, and he
pulled her close and whispered, "Go to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to get up."
She didn't argue, just moved
closer, her arm warm over his stomach, her legs wrapped around his.
She was with him. Finally, she was with him. And it felt...right. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling
of having her pressed against him.
She fell asleep quickly, and
she made little noises as she slept, moved a bit more than he expected, her
hands gripping and her feet pushing at him as she fought what must be dream
foes.
When he murmured to her, she
quieted down.
"I love you," he
whispered.
She smiled. Even in sleep, that made her smile.
Then she went back to fighting whatever terrible thing populated her dreams--he
wondered if she could see the monsters in her dreams or if they'd gone dark
too.
As she thrashed a little,
finally quieting under his repeated assurances, he realized that sharing his
bed with her might not be the restful proposition he'd fantasized about.
Hugging the real woman close,
he found he didn't care.
FIN