IN DARKEST LIGHT

By Meljean Brook (mickerella@yahoo.com)

Archiving: Go ahead, just send me an e-mail letting me know where, and keep my name and e-mail address at the head of the story. No editing without written permission and an approved edited sample (if you want to change it from an R rating to PG, for example).

Continuity: No specific continuity. Generally, after Wonder Woman #174. Primarily, I've changed Batman continuity around so that Officer Down takes place after OWAW and this story. I've changed things and made them up as needed. Last Laugh never happened in this universe.

Disclaimers: This work of fiction is blatantly infringing many copyrights, but it is a work for which I am making no money, nor receiving any other form of compensation (except, of course, personal gratification and greatly appreciated reader comments). I do not own the characters herein, nor claim in any way to own them. All characters, representations, and likenesses are owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Chapter 1: Costumes

Kyle Rayner, the Green Lantern, was craving double chocolate walnut fudge ice cream. He headed to the kitchen for the third time that day to get a bowl of it. He wasn't sure why last month he had started craving the ice cream, but it was so bad that he had stocked the freezer in the Watchtower's kitchen with several more gallons than it originally had, and had noticed a slight weight gain under his skin-tight, green, white and black uniform from his several-times-a-day ice cream binges. Kyle thought that no one else had noticed the extra ounce or two that he was carrying, but he was sure that in the next day or so Batman would probably say from some dark corner, "Too many Doritos, Kyle?" with an accompanying stare that would send the Green Lantern running to the weight room to burn off the four gallons of ice cream that he had eaten in the last week.

He strode through the kitchen's swinging door and was halfway across the room when he noticed the scene that was playing out on the kitchen table. He froze. Wonder Woman--naked, Kyle's mind registered ecstatically--with her head thrown back, hands clenched in the hair of the man whom she was straddling, moaning softly from whatever it was that his mouth was doing to her breast and his body was doing under her.

The couple must have sensed Kyle was there, because they stopped mid-thrust, looked at each other, then at Kyle. Kyle forced himself to look away from Diana's body and into her glazed eyes, and at her face, which registered confusion as she looked down at the man she was astride, then back at Kyle, then down at the man again. And then Kyle realized at whom Diana was looking. Bruce Wayne. The Batman.

In one fluid movement, Batman rolled over, pulling Diana with him, toward the chair where his black cape was draped over his cowl, body armor and Wonder Woman's uniform, swept the cape up and covered their nude forms. Kyle filed away the information that Diana was wearing only her red boots and bracelets for later self-erotic use, then felt his stomach jump into his throat when Batman turned to look at him. Kyle would rather have had Diana crush his skull with a flick of her hand than to receive *that* look from Batman.

"Eep," said the Green Lantern, wielder of the universe's most powerful weapon.

"Get out, Kyle," the Batman said in his softest voice.

Kyle got out.

***

Superman, the Flash, and Plastic Man were scanning for unusual incidents in the Monitor Room when GL burst in, white as a sheet, stumbling over his feet in his hurry. He skidded to a stop, and said, "I just saw Wonder Woman naked!"

Wally jumped up. "Wherewhichroomisshein?"

Plastic Man's chin dropped, literally, to the floor. He pulled it up again to say, "You lucky bastard."

"Not so lucky," Superman said mildly, "if his fear is anything to judge by. I suppose she threatened the life out of you and then threw you out?"

"No, that was the Batman." Kyle looked fearfully toward the door of the room as if he expected the Dark Knight to come through it at any moment. "Man, she was naked on top of him! And he was naked, too," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Oh, man, I can't believe I missed that," Plastic Man lamented.

GL threw himself theatrically at Superman's feet. "Please, Supes, you gotta protect me when he comes after me."

"Get up, Kyle," Clark said absently. He scanned the Watchtower with his x-ray vision, stopping when he saw Diana and Bruce in the kitchen, pulling on their clothing. Diana looked slightly stunned; Bruce's lips were drawn into a thin line. He heard Bruce say, "Diana, I'll figure out what happened."

She looked at him, figure stiff, eyes stricken. "I've never..I don't know...." She shook her head, composed her face. "We'll both figure out what happened. One way or another." She ran her hands through her hair. "Maybe we should start with the security discs in this room." Superman saw her grin. "Before Kyle distributes them over the internet."

"There's enough fake ones online about you that it wouldn't even make a difference," Batman said dryly. He turned to leave the room, hesitated, turned back. "Diana, are you all right?"

Her grin faded. "I should ask you that; we weren't exactly gentle."

"I don't mean physically." Batman grimaced. "I mean...emotionally."

"Oh, that." Diana waved her hand dismissively. "It wasn't exactly a bad experience, Bruce. I'm fine. Are you?"

Batman nodded, then leaned toward her, touching her bare hand with his gauntleted one. "No, it wasn't bad, Diana. But that doesn't mean it should have happened, or that it wasn't a violation of us both." He gave her hand a squeeze and let go. "I'll go get those discs now."

Wonder Woman watched Batman leave the kitchen, then sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands. "Great Hera," she whispered.

Superman looked away, feeling like a voyeur. Green Lantern was saying, "...wait until Donna finds out! She'll flip her lid, that's for sure."

"Donna won't find out," Superman said. His tone brooked no argument. "I'm not exactly sure what has happened, but I don't think it was of their own volition."

"Ah, man," Wally said, sinking into a chair. "You mean we are in possession of the best piece of gossip since Clinton had that thing with Monica, and we have to keep quiet?"

"I mean," Superman said, looking at each one of them in turn, "that if word of it gets beyond this room, they'll find tiny little pieces of each of you floating around Pluto." They could tell he wasn't kidding. "In other words, you'll have to answer to a very disappointed and furious me."

"And me," Batman said from the doorway. He strode silently across the room to the security station. GL, the Flash, and Plastic Man looked at each other, and started to edge toward the door.

"Stay away from Diana," Batman said without turning from the console in front of him.

"Okay," the three said in unison, then ran out of the room. Superman had the feeling that they probably wouldn't even look at Wonder Woman for three weeks; Batman's tone had been low, very dangerous and deadly serious.

***

Clark sighed as he returned to hall outside of the kitchen. Diana had been less forthcoming than Bruce about what had happened, and that was saying something. Bruce had sidestepped his carefully phrased questions, and asked permission to take the security disks for the kitchen area for the last couple of weeks and destroy the backups. He knew Batman wanted the discs to look for clues as to what had happened in that room as well as keeping them from falling into the wrong hands. Clark had readily agreed; he also did not want the video of his two best friends doing...whatever...to get out to anyone, and he definitely wanted to know what had caused them to act so uninhibitedly.

"Did you find anything?" he asked.

J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, materialized beside him. "No. There isn't a single sign of an outside influence or chemical imbalance in their minds. As far as I can tell, they just acted on feelings that they already had. Perhaps we should look at the magic angle?"

"I hate magic." Clark looked thoughtfully at the door to the kitchen. On feelings they already had? Clark decided he would ponder that statement later. "Have you noticed anything strange in there? If it is magic, is it specific to Bruce and Diana or is it everyone?"

"Except for my unusual craving for your mom's apple pie instead of Oreo cookies and the abundance of ice cream in the freezer? No." J'onn paused. "Someone could be trying to disrupt the JLA, to divert our attention away from something else."

"That's what I've been thinking. Keep an especially watchful eye out, and I'll get in touch with some of the magic users." Superman eyed the man next to him wryly. "I'm not sure how to explain the problem we have without explaining the situation to them, but hopefully one of them will know of something similar and can give us a clue."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Batman has beaten you to that."

"Neither would I." Clark hesitated, then asked, "How are they?"

"Bruce and Diana?" At Clark's nod, he continued, "They are . . . ok. Both are confused, and guilty. Neither is sure where their self-control went, and they blame themselves. They are distracting themselves, of course. Batman is already investigating and reviewing the discs, and Diana just went to the training room to beat the photons out of the holograms. I'd say they are reacting normally."

"Did she go in with her sword?"

"Yes."

Superman's shoulders drooped. "I'll call Steel and have him get a crew ready to do repairs to the room."

***

Wonder Woman cocked her head, listening to Superman and the Martian Manhunter. They didn't have a monopoly on super-hearing, and she wasn't sure if they had forgotten that or thought that she was too distraught to listen. So they thought she was reacting normally? How was a woman supposed to act, she wondered, after she has come onto a man like a cat in heat? Was there a precedent for this sort of thing that made her reaction fit into the category of 'normal'?

She sheathed her sword and called up the highest training level on the computer. She wouldn't use her weapon unless she had to; it suddenly seemed more satisfying to pound the holograms with her fists. A simulacrum of Darkseid appeared and hit her with his omega beams before she could react, throwing her back against the reinforced wall, knocking the breath out of her. She flew toward him, dodging his energy beam, landing a punch that made her hand go numb but barely jarred the dark god. And who had given J'onn permission to scan her mind? She broke the neck of a parademon that tried to attack her from behind. Granted, it was probably in the JLA's best interest to know if there was an outside source influencing her or Bruce, but why hadn't they asked? Did they think she would break, that her sensibilities were so delicate that she would never recover from a direct question? Darkseid slapped her against the ground, stepped on her. She thought he might have cracked a rib, so she drew her sword and speared his foot. She breathed heavily while he pulled out the sword with two of his fingers. She yanked it out of his hand with her lasso and re-sheathed it. And what about the magic? Did they think that Batman would only give into her charms under the influence of magic? She dodged another omega beam, punched another parademon. Or that she was so sexless it took magic to make her give in to a sexual urge? Another rib cracked when she tried to come around behind Darkseid and he hit her in mid-air. Granted, it had been odd that *they* had had sex and it was out of character for them both, but--she threw a parademon at Darkseid's face, then used the split second his vision was blocked by the creature to kick him in the back of his leg, causing his knee to buckle--it had been nice. For the first time in a long time she had been swept away by a feeling, and it had been wonderful. She crashed against the ceiling when a parademon she had been unaware of rammed into her from below. She pulled off its head by wrapping her lasso around it and yanking.

Wonderful, but wrong, she admitted as the scenery around her changed from Apokolips to New York City. Circe and the Silver Swan appeared above her. Diana's heart constricted when she saw that the Silver Swan's image had been updated recently to show that it was now her friend, Vanessa, then used her bracelets to brace herself against the sonic scream that the Silver Swan issued. Batman would be more than happy to remind her, she thought, that someone as powerful as she is shouldn't be swept away by urges.

"And he's right," she said aloud.

"Who's right, Wonder Bitch?" Circe sneered as she caught Wonder Woman's lasso before it snaked around Vanessa.

"Batman," Diana replied, yanking sharply on the rope. Circe didn't let go quickly enough, and flew off of her glider into Diana's fist. Her nose crunched. The Silver Swan screeched and attacked. Wonder Woman blocked her flailing nails with a bracelet, kicking Circe out of the way. The witch landed on her feet, holding her nose.

"Where's your mommy, Diana?" Circe taunted. "Are they going to make her a goddess so that Zeus can fuck her whenever he wants, just like Herakles did? The retroactive Wonder Slut."

Twenty minutes later, Wonder Woman stepped away from the pulped body of the witch, and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. "Computer, program off," she commanded. New York disappeared, but she could still see the carnage she had created in her rage. And she could still feel the alien touch that had been Batman's.

Mother, she thought, I wish you were here.

Her mother didn't answer her; Batman did. He said over her comm-link, "Diana, I think I've found something. Come to the cave."

***

Diana found Alfred waiting for her in the cave.

"Good evening, miss," the butler said. "Master Bruce was called away on sudden business. He said that he should only be away for two or three hours. He tried to reach you, but you were . .. . indisposed, and he felt that under the circumstances, leaving a message with the others telling you to delay your visit to him would be unwise."

Diana smiled slightly at the butler's polite unwillingness to mention that she had been in the shower, and acknowledged that Batman must have told Alfred at least the basics regarding their "circumstances." She was grateful for his tact; the Watchtower would have been abuzz with new rumors had they known she was visiting him alone less than three hours after GL had found them in the kitchen. She had taken a few hours to herself after Batman's summons to the cave; she felt she needed to calm down before she saw him again. She had written a letter to the Chinese government, contacted Artemis to discuss Cassie's training schedule while Themyscira was being rebuilt, then showered and taped her ribs. They would heal quickly, but the pressure of the tape eased the pain her movements caused her while they knitted back together.

"Would you like any dinner if you wait, miss, or would you rather return when Master Bruce does?"

"Thank you, but no dinner, Alfred." She looked toward the huge computer screen at the center of the bank of computers. A fuzzy image of a large male pointing a gun at what looked like a bank teller filled one half of the monitor; the other side had a name and a list of stats.

Diana nodded toward the monitor. "Is that Bruce's 'business'?"

Alfred nodded. "A particularly nasty criminal element, I believe. He held up this teller this afternoon; just before you arrived, Oracle managed to track down this man, and Master Bruce went out to apprehend him."

Intuition made Wonder Woman ask, "It wasn't just a hold up, was it?"

"No, Miss Diana," Alfred said. "I'm afraid that the teller and a security guard were killed during the robbery. He didn't use the gun to do it."

Diana looked at the statistics for the man more closely. "It says that he's a metahuman. Class C strength and speed, Class B invulnerability," she read. She turned back to Alfred. "Why didn't he wait until I got here? Even with his belt of tricks, taking this guy down won't be easy."

"I don't expect it will be; I'm afraid that this might be another night spent bandaging and medicating him," Alfred said.

Determined, Diana walked over to the computer station. "Not tonight. Will you show me on this thing where to find him?"

"Of course. However, I would suggest that you do not go."

"Why not?"

"Master Bruce does not accept help often from what he calls the "flashier heroes" for two simple reasons, Miss Diana: flashy heroes are obvious targets that are dangerous for non-powered humans to be around, and, if word were to spread that the Batman needed help, he would lose that element of fear that, more often than not, gives him an edge over the criminals of the city."

Diana hesitated, then insisted, "But if he's lying bloodied and beaten, they'll lose their fear of him, too."

Alfred smiled. "He's walked away on a broken leg and breathing with punctured lungs, miss. He doesn't show them weakness, and they would consider help from a metahuman a weakness."

"By the gods, that man is stubborn!" Diana drummed her fingers on the console, thinking. Her gaze lit upon a Robin costume in a lighted tube. So damn stubborn, she thought. Even when Robin had been killed by the Joker--a boy who had practically been his own son--he had not sought comfort from anyone. Instead, he had embroiled himself deeper in his quest, shutting out nearly everyone for months. How in the world did she expect him to let her help with one metahuman, when he didn't accept help when his world was ripped apart? How would he--

Wait, she thought. The costume.

"Alfred, is there another Bat costume that I could use?"

Alfred didn't hesitate. "Of course, miss. We'd have to alter it slightly, though."

"Very slightly," she said, pulling off her WW breastplate. "We don't have much time."

***

Diana looked at herself in the mirror. The costume was too big; it hung from her loosely in several places. Alfred had taken out some of the body armor, zipped her lasso into a pocket in the cape lining--"just in case," he had said-- and covered her bracelets with the costume's sleeves and gauntlets. Diana watched as Alfred used a penknife to cut a slit in the back of the cowl and pulled her braided hair through the hole.

"That should suffice, miss," Alfred said, stepping back to survey his handiwork. "I have a locator that you can use to find Master Bruce. I use it when he needs me to send him one of the jets or collect him when he can't make it home himself."

"Hopefully this won't be one of those nights." She checked her image in the mirror again, amazed by the difference the costume made for her look and, she noted with some excitement mixed with trepidation, feel. She felt more powerful, more dangerous. "Any last minute suggestions, Alfred?"

"Two, Miss Diana." Alfred adjusted the cape so that it draped around her shoulders, hiding her body. "Try to make yourself look as big and as frightening as possible. Be theatrical, but don't use your powers in a flashy or obvious way. The point is not to seem metahuman."

Diana nodded. "And suggestion number two?"

"Amazons are hunters as well as warriors, aren't they?"

"The best in the world, Alfred."

"I suggest then, Miss Diana, that you change your demeanor and approach from that of a warrior to that of a hunter." He smiled very slightly. "Gotham is more like a jungle than a battlefield. If you go in as Wonder Woman, no costume can hide your identity."

"I *am* Wonder Woman, Alfred."

"No." Alfred turned her to look in the mirror again. "Tonight you are Diana, goddess of the hunt."

Diana smiled. "You are well versed in your mythology."

"There have been many nights when I've stayed awake waiting for Master Bruce with nothing to do but read, miss. Hopefully I'll sleep well tonight."

Diana picked up the Bat locator. "I'll do what I can, Alfred." She turned and flew toward the cave entrance.

Alfred watched her leave. "Happy hunting, miss."

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Chapter 2: The Jungle

Batman shifted his weight to his right leg to keep his left foot from going numb. He glanced at Batgirl, briefly envying her easy posture before returning his attention to the scene below. Four men sat around a table counting money. A fifth stood by the door as sentry; two more were in an enclosed office. The room was open and well-lighted, making it almost impossible to take the men out one by one; he and Batgirl would have to make one concerted effort and take down the men in the room as quickly as possible before the two in the office came out, guns blasting. Normally, Batman would not hesitate this long. It was usually easy, especially with Batgirl's help, to have men in the open disabled before anyone in another room was even aware they were under attack; in this case, however, one of the men, David George, was metahuman.

Batman ran the scenario through his head several times: Batgirl takes out the sentry then the three non-powered men while he goes after the metahuman, trying to knock out George chemically at first, but if his metabolism processes the depressant too fast, Batman has to fight George, whose strength and speed far exceed his own. Batman doesn't underestimate his own talents--he's fought metahumans and won many times--but doesn't like to physically engage a metahuman in a fight if he can help it, especially when that metahuman is backed up by two men with guns who enjoy the cover of an enclosed room.

Batman didn't like the odds. Even with Batgirl's amazing talent to help him, fighting David George involved taking on a metahuman whose abilities weren't well-documented and whose known history--which consisted of one double murder during a bank heist earlier that day--was spotty at best. It was a wild card he didn't need.

A change in the shadows to his right caught his eye even as Batgirl pointed at the movement. And here is another unneeded wild card, he thought. He changed his lenses to night vision so that he could see into the gloom of the rafters. A Bat costume? One of his, he noted immediately. Female form, long black braid.

Diana.

She ran silently along the wooden beams on the opposite side of the warehouse ceiling from where he and Batgirl waited, vaulted over a pipe, and then crouched in a corner, out of the sight of the men below. Batman frowned. Wonder Woman didn't move like that. Diana ran boldly, with purpose and efficiency, like a warrior into battle. This woman's movements were subtle, almost feline in their stealth.

He knew Batgirl had seen Wonder Woman in New York when Circe had enchanted Manhattan, and she could identify her with a glance. Batgirl had an uncanny ability to read the movements of another person; that ability also allowed her to identify a person by their movements, even if they were in disguise. He turned to Batgirl and whispered the name, "Diana? Wonder Woman?"

Batgirl nodded. He noticed that one of the men below had changed position without him being aware of it.

Diana. She had distracted his thoughts all evening in the cave; now she was distracting him in person on patrol.

Batman wanted to swear, but instead forced himself to consider how her arrival could benefit their operation. Aside from his own circle of Robin, Nightwing, and Oracle, there was no one in the world--maybe Superman--that he trusted more than Diana. He could count on her to help him with George, even though what he wanted to do was tear a verbal strip out of her for wearing his costume and daring to come to his aid. In his city.

He patched himself through to the receiver in the ears of the cowl she was wearing. "I told you to stay out of Gotham, Princess."

He could almost hear the smile in her voice when she said, "You invited me to the cave, you are the one who left George's stats up on the screen, and you know my personality; it doesn't take the World's Greatest Detective to know that I would come here. Count yourself lucky I changed costumes and am doing it on your terms."

Bruce frowned. She was right--and he didn't like it.

"And don't call me 'Princess.'" He almost smiled at that. He hadn't forgotten she'd given up her title, of course; he had known it would irritate her. She was so predictable.

He frowned again. She hadn't been predictable in the JLA kitchen earlier. Neither had he. But they'd deal with that later.

"Diana, you cover the two in the office; they've got guns. Batgirl will take out the guard and the three non-metas around the table--they are armed, too. I'll hit George with the narcazine. Hopefully he'll go down. If not, I take Diana's place, and Diana, you take out George, as quickly and cleanly as possible. Batgirl, you back me up and take care of any unexpecteds. On my mark."

He threw three batarangs, destroying the fluorescent light tubes over the table. One second. He dropped to the floor behind George; Batgirl had already taken out the sentry and was on the men at the table before they could stand up. Two seconds. Batman broke the vial of narcazine under George's nose as the meta stood, and heard Diana's murmur of astonishment over the transmitter as Batgirl took down the three men with a fist, foot and final backward kick. Three seconds. George swayed. Batman heard shouts from inside the office. Four seconds. George fell to his knees, then onto his face. Five seconds. Silence now from inside the office.

Batman turned to watch Diana, who cocked her head as if listening to the men inside. "I'm going up," she said, and he watched as she lifted herself to the low roof of the office, sliding along the top on her hands and knees. She stood when she reached the middle, her head inches from the rafters, then fell through the roof. He realized she must have put enough downward pressure on the roof to cave it in, probably taking out the light fixtures in the process. There were yells from inside, a shot, and two distinct thuds. At Batman's feet, George stirred. Bruce flipped backwards just as the man's beefy hand closed on the air where his legs had been. George was on his feet in an instant; Batman got another vial ready, but wasn't sure he'd have the chance to get it close enough. "Diana," was all he was able to say before George hit him, knocking him backward through the door of the office. Underestimated his speed, Batman thought. Knocked on my ass--humiliating.

He felt the brush of Diana's cape as she left the office. From his perspective on the ground, she looked taller than normal--no, he realized as she drew close to George, she was floating about twelve inches above the floor, the cape hiding the fact that her feet weren't touching the ground. George tried to hit her; she caught his fist mid-swing. She bent over him; Batman didn't think that George could see anything in the dim light other than a menacing shadow coming closer and closer to his face.

Diana--closely imitating his own voice, Batman realized--said, "You murdered two people in my city. Never again." She slammed her fist into George's chin; he flew backwards and hit the ground. Diana settled to the ground and walked to his prone form, bending to examine him. "He's out," she announced in her own voice.

Standing in the shattered office doorway, Batman contacted Alfred. "Call GCPD and have them bring their reinforced wagon to pick up George and six others at this address."

"Very well, sir. Did Miss Diana find you?"

"She's here."

"Very good, sir. I hope she was able to offer assistance." Alfred paused. "Were you aware, sir, that the Bat-signal has been lit?"

Batman looked up at the ceiling automatically. No skylight to confirm the Bat-signal. "How long ago?"

"Only a few minutes."

"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be back later."

"Good luck, sir."

Batman broke the connection and looked at Diana. She was shaking hands with Batgirl; Bruce imagined that under her mask Cassandra's face was probably filled with adoration, not unlike Dick's had been the first time he'd met Superman.

"I would love to learn some of your techniques," Diana was telling her as Bruce bent to snap titanium cuffs around George's wrists. Batgirl nodded, then shrugged, pointing at Batman. It's his decision, her gestures said. Diana glanced at Bruce. "What do you think?"

"Batgirl, cuff the others." He tossed her some plastic quick-tites. She quickly complied. "I didn’t know you did impressions, Diana," he said when Batgirl was out of earshot.

"Kal taught me." Batman saw the flash of her teeth in the dark. "’Precise muscle control,’" she quoted in Clark’s voice, then switched back to her own. "I’ve never practiced yours, so it’s a little rusty. It'll be a neat trick at JLA parties." Her grin widened.

"Keep not practicing it." Batman reached forward and tugged the locator out of Diana’s belt, then punched a few buttons. "I’m resetting this to locate the Batmobile. I need to you stay here with George until the PD arrives, then meet me at the car. No flying, no powers. If you have to, walk." He gave her the instrument, turned to go, then said over his shoulder, "Stay out of sight of the police when they get here."

"I’ll skulk in a corner, let a detective talk to me, then when he looks away for a brief second I’ll disappear, leaving him scratching his head in wonder." Batman could hear the smile in her voice. Her current cheerfulness was almost as distracting as the memory of what they had done earlier that day, and how she had felt. So, he ignored it.

"Good. Batgirl, when you are done here, go patrol east-side. Keep in touch through Oracle."

***

Wonder Woman crouched on a gargoyle, looking out over the city. She could see the Batmobile below her; Batman was nowhere in sight. The police had arrived at the warehouse quickly; an unconscious George had posed no problem to them. After allowing them a shadowing glimpse of her on the rooftop, she sped away. She hoped she was an imposing a figure to them as Bruce seemed to be.

That was power, she thought. Fear. Not the kind she could instill with her fists and strength, but the type of fear that made men stay at home instead of selling dope on corners. Not a fear of death—she knew that she inspired that kind of fear in some people; they looked at what she could do and imagined her crushing them, killing them with her powers. No, the criminals in Gotham had a fear of justice, that if they were unjust they would be caught and punished; if not by the law, then by The Batman. And it worked for him.

She, on the other hand, had been trying for years to instill a love of peace to the world without much success. And she was starting to wonder if people weren’t swayed by love, but by fear and hate.

Diana watched as, below, a woman walking down the street was pushed into an alley by a much larger man. She heard a short scream, quickly muffled. She started to fly down, then stopped herself. She would continue to play by his rules tonight. Pulling a grappling hook from her belt, she aimed it at an outcropping on a lower building. It wedged firmly around the ledge; she smiled. It wasn’t much different than her lasso. She swung into the air, fighting her urge to control her descent, and for a moment felt the unfamiliar panic of freefall. Her swing reached its downward arc, and she let go of the rope, exhilarated by that instant of fear, landing silently on the sidewalk next to the alley. It was dim, but not dim enough, she thought. She would make this quick, no theatrics, so that the man and woman would never have time to realize that the face showing beneath the mask wasn’t masculine.

Diana stepped into the alley, then stopped. The man lay facedown on the pavement, and the woman was holding her shoe in her hand. She looked over at Diana. Fright and pride warred on her features. "I did it! Just like in my self-defense class; and Jerry had said they were a waste of time. Ha ha. I just thought, 'What would Batman do?' even though I really don't believe in you, but here you are." She stopped to catch a breath. "And I was so afraid, but I guess it was like those grandmother-picking-the-car-up-off-the-grandson things. One whack! and that was all she wrote." She began laughing hysterically.

Diana cuffed the unconscious man, checked his vitals, and said, "He should stay out until the police arrive. Do you have a phone?" Shaking and holding her sides in her laughter, the woman nodded. "Call the police."

"Oh-Okay." The woman rummaged through her purse, trying to calm herself. She pulled out her cell phone triumphantly after a few moments; the alley was empty except for her attempted rapist and her. She looked up and down the alley, then ran to the corner to look up and down the deserted street. "Holy shit," she said finally.

Back on the gargoyle, Diana drew her cape tightly around herself, trying to dispel a cold that had settled deep within her. But it wouldn't be warmed, she acknowledged, because it wasn't physical. The police arrived at the alley, their lights flashing garish red, white and blue over the gothic facade of the buildings. Her own colors; here in Gotham, they were out of place. The black costume she wore now was the perfect reflection of the city, and the people of Gotham responded to it.

Diana traced back through her memories; she could remember several women mentioning how she had inspired them, but only to a small extent. Some women left their abusive husbands, or they stood up for themselves at a male dominated workplace--Diana recognized the value of that for the individual woman, but she had always hoped for more. That men and women would join her cause and act in the name of peace and love, instead of waiting for Wonder Woman to do it all for them. And Batman, he had inspired action from an outmatched woman who hadn't even known that he was anything more than an urban legend. Wonder Woman was a public presence--a reality--and she couldn't generate that kind of action, no matter how many speeches she made, supervillians she fought or TV shows she appeared in, espousing her message. What was she doing wrong?

Diana barely kept herself from jumping when Batman appeared beside her. "Let's go, Princess." She curled her lip at the name but didn't say anything; instead, she followed him over the rooftop and swung down to the Batmobile. The top slid open and she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Back to the cave?" she asked.

He didn't spare her a glance as he reversed the car. "No. We are going to pay a doctor a visit first."

Diana bit her lip, wondering how to phrase her reply, before finally saying, "Bruce, I don't think that is necessary. I won't become pregnant."

His head whipped around and he slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched. Diana could see the horror and surprise in his eyes, and in the expression on his face beneath the line of his mask. His voice hoarse, he said, "No, that's not what I--" He shook his head. Diana watched in fascination as he composed himself, became The Bat once more. He put the Batmobile into gear once more.

"The Joker escaped tonight, and his last visitor was a Dr. Kaeklis. Gotham PD has tried to question him about what he told the Joker, but he is claiming doctor-patient confidentiality. We are going to get some answers out of him."

"What if he won't talk?"

Batman smiled grimly. "That's why you are here. If I have to administer a truth serum, he might be disoriented enough to only speak his native language--Greek."

The buildings seemed to fly by outside the car, a collage of gothic architecture and modern sparity. Diana was struck again by how alien this place felt to her. "Your ethics are questionable, but when it comes to the Joker..." Her voice trailed off.

"Exactly."

***

After remotely commanding his computers to sweep for transactions involving the Joker's usual aliases, Batman cast a sidelong glance at the woman beside him. It had been five minutes since Diana had last spoken. She had pushed back her mask and he could see her face clearly; she was gazing blankly out of the passenger window.

She was brooding, he could tell; he usually had a monopoly on that. It didn't exactly make him nervous, but he couldn't ignore the fact that the one and only other time he had seen her brood, six hours later she had thrown a piece of granite at his head and put him an escape pod headed for the asteroid belt so that she could die in place of the JLA. It was probably better to find out now, he thought, what was going on in her head. He didn't think it was their sexual encounter in the kitchen. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that yet anyway, so he started out on a safe topic--the Joker.

"More often than not I break a few ethical rules when dealing with the Joker," he said abruptly.

Diana's eyes narrowed. "You never start conversations."

"I am a man of surprises." He ignored her disbelieving snort. Then her eyes widened, and he knew she was thinking of what happened in the Watchtower and how *that* must have surprised her, so he hastily continued. "I am simply stating that in times of life or death circumstances, ethical considerations are by necessity often thrown out the door. The path that you followed when confronting that dragon wasn't exactly black and white. You betrayed and deceived every one of your friends."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," she replied, her face serious. "It broke my heart to do it, but if it saved your lives, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again." She paused. "It did make me, however, more sympathetic to your situation when you devised ways to take out every JLA member. What I did, I did to keep all of you from dying. What you did was plan a way to save the world from us."

She added quietly, "I'm not sure there is a difference between the two anymore."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure." She waved a hand in the air as if whatever she wanted to say she could grab out of thin air and hold on to. Batman didn't think he had ever seen her at such a loss for words. "I think...I think I can't help but wonder if the world does need saving from us. We have good intentions, but are we doing more harm than good?" She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, as if she was very tired. "How many years have I been in Man's World? How long has Kal been here? Are we just making the problem worse by letting the people of the world rely on us?"

"Yes," Batman said as he pulled to a stop behind an apartment complex. "And no. And it's not just you and Clark, you know."

"I know, but we are considered the symbols, the epitome of the powered hero." She grinned ruefully. "That sounds incredibly conceited."

Batman shrugged and opened the car. "It's true." He got out. "We're here."

Diana pulled the mask forward over her face. "So I gathered," she said dryly, and climbed out.

"He's in one of the penthouses."

Diana tilted her neck back, looking up at the building. It was smooth glass and steel. "On what do we fasten our ropes?"

"We are in a hurry. We'll fly." He stepped close to Diana and put his arm around her waist. She immediately lifted them, sliding smoothly through the air. He gave himself a brief moment to enjoy the feel of her taut muscles under his own, then tried to stop feeling when he realized that enjoyment was quickly turning to lust.

"This is cheating," he heard Diana mutter. He didn't know if she was talking about the flying or the physical contact. He forcefully pushed every thought not concerning the Joker and his escape out of his mind: Gotham couldn't afford for him to be distracted by sexual urges.

"His is the second balcony from the top."

Diana set him down easily on the landing. He immediately moved to the shadows and motioned for her to follow him. Kaeklis lived alone; hopefully, he wouldn't have company tonight--it would make this easier.

"I can hear snoring from out here." Diana said. Batman nodded; snoring was a good sign.

He picked the lock on the French doors, then slipped inside. Diana trailed him, as silent as he had been. At the bedroom, he signaled for her to stay outside. He listened at the door--light snoring, as Diana had said. He turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, heard a click, took in the scene with a glance. He turned and ran back to the balcony, trusting that Diana would follow him, and that she would catch him when he dove from the edge. She caught him two stories down, knocking the breath from him; above, the penthouse exploded.

Diana dropped him unceremoniously to the ground, glass and burning debris raining down on them. "I’m going back up," she shouted, then flew back into the smoke and flames.

***

"Just a few singed hairs, Alfred," Diana was saying as Bruce came out of the changing room. "The fire exploded outwards instead of upwards, luckily. There were only a few flames when I reached the families in the apartments above and below."

Bruce caught the glance his butler threw his way. "She has a bunch of glass in her back that needs to be cleaned out, Alfred."

Diana glared at him. "I’m a fast healer."

"Miss, if I may say, your healing abilities seem to be reduced lately." Alfred looked pointedly at the faint scars over Diana’s eye that had been deep scratches three weeks ago. They all knew there shouldn’t have been any sign of them.

"But those are because the Cheetah is a magical being…" Diana started to argue, then stopped as Bruce shook his head slightly.

"It’s no use, Diana. Submit to him now, or he’ll force you to later, with much unpleasantness."

Diana looked between his amused face and Alfred’s unyielding one. "Very well."

Batman turned to his computers as Diana slid off the top of the Bat-costume. He began running a search for laboratories connected with Dr. Kaeklis’ medical practice.

"What was in the room that tipped you off, besides the click when you opened the door?"

He looked back at her. She was facedown on the med table, Alfred working on her back with a small sponge and a pair of tweezers. Her ribs were taped—Batman didn’t remember them being taped earlier, and briefly wondered what had happened between the time he left her in the kitchen and she arrived in the cave—and he could see splotches of red on the tape where the glass from the explosion had acted as a projectile into her skin. She didn’t wince as Alfred probed at a particularly nasty cut.

"This one will need one or two stitches, miss."

Diana opened her mouth, then shut it. Batman smiled and turned back to his console. She had probably been going to argue about stitches, then realized the futility of it. Alfred was immovable when it came to caring for injuries properly.

"Green and purple balloons. "Die, Batsy" and "Ha Ha" written on them. Kaeklis was propped up in the bed; he’d already been administered a fatal dose of Joker venom. The snoring was coming from a tape recorder."

Diana sighed. "I should have heard the tape recorder mechanism; I just wasn’t listening close enough."

"We can’t all have atomic level hearing and x-ray vision." Bruce found the lab he was looking for, then swore. "Dammit. Kaeklis used a Luthor subsidiary. If it had been a Wayne Corp lab, this would be much simpler."

"How long will it take to sort through the files?"

He looked back at her—Alfred was sewing up one of the wounds. "With Luthor, it’s not a matter of sorting, but of access. Sorting will be relatively easy; we’ll look for tests from Kaeklis’ office in the last two weeks that are numbered differently than usual, since the inmates at Arkham use certain codes. It’s supposed to be a way of protecting their identity, but to me it is a red flag. Access, however, is completely different. Luthor is almost as security conscious as Bruce Wayne. I’ll put Oracle on that part of it." He tapped a few keys, creating a non-visual link between his computer and Barbara’s—partly to keep Diana from learning Oracle’s true identity, and partly because he didn’t want Barbara to see Diana in a Bat-costume, half naked, in the cave. He sent Barbara the data with a few more taps of the keys.

Diana said idly, "Did I ever tell you about the time in Boston when Joker squirted me with some of his venom?"

Bruce swiveled his chair around, interested. "No. I knew you had an encounter with him there, but I didn’t know he had poisoned you. That wasn’t in the file."

"It wasn’t in the file because the paralysis didn’t last more than a minute or two. I don’t think that it was supposed to be fatal; it just paralyzed me."

Bruce frowned. "I’ve seen the Flash paralyzed by that venom for nearly thirty minutes, and he process poisons faster than anyone else I know of."

Alfred stepped back from the table. "That should do it, miss. I’ll be back shortly with a robe."

Diana sat up. "Thanks, Alfred." She twisted from side to side, testing the bandages and stitches. Bruce averted his eyes. He had seen her nude before they had had sex; her costume had ripped during a battle, or it had pleased a villain to try to embarrass her with her nakedness, which never worked, much to the villain’s disgust, and he knew Diana had different ideas of modesty than most of the world—growing up on an island populated entirely by warrior females did that—but he was too aware of her physically now to pretend that he just saw her as a comrade-in-arms tonight. And it bothered him, he admitted to himself, that obviously Diana didn’t think of him as anything other than a fellow warrior, since her breasts were in full view, and she made no effort to cover herself.

He wanted her to see him, if just for a moment, as a man, and she a woman. To do so would be an indulgence; he should be investigating the Joker's escape, or at least showing her the video from the kitchen.

An indulgence, he reminded himself. But still, he let his expression change slightly. His lids lowered and his face showed some of the desire he was feeling. He didn't use playboy Bruce Wayne's lazily seductive look; Diana would never fall for that. This was The Bat, wanting what was in front of him--Diana.

"So, as I was saying, I was paralyzed," Diana continued, then looked up. Her expression froze, eyes as wide as a jacklighted doe's. A faint blush spread across her cheekbones; she looked away. "And, um..." She brought an arm up across her breasts. She glanced at his face again briefly, then focused on a point above his head. "Uh, then I left my body to dance with Pan, then came back, and the chaos of Pan's dance overwhelmed the poison, and I was free," she said in a rush.

Bruce stood and walked slowly to the med-table. Diana's eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for somewhere to go.

"That sounds . . . dangerous." He lowered his voice on the last word. He reached out, lifted her chin. She licked her lower lip nervously. He heard her breath catch, saw the same expression on her face that she had worn in the kitchen in that first wild moment, except that this time her eyes weren't glazed--she was aware of what she was doing. So was he.

An indulgence. But he knew now that he would kiss her, the lust was surging like it had before, only more clearly, hotter, so he would kiss her and then he would be inside her, on the table, finding comfort finally in a place he usually felt pain, or on his chair, where he spent most of his time solving crimes, alone, almost always alone, the chair where he had spent too many seconds, minutes, thinking about her, even before the kitchen, before tonight.

Alfred cleared his throat behind them. Batman pulled away, handed her a towel from the cart beside the table, casually, as if he had only approached the table to do that. "This should get the rest of the soot off of your face." Indulgence over. Time to focus on work.

Diana glanced at Alfred, accepting the towel. She cleared her throat. "Thank you." She scrubbed her face with the towel for a moment; by the time she was done, her face was composed, serene. Alfred gave her a robe, which she slipped on. She continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. "It wasn't dangerous to leave to go to Pan--indeed, it would probably have been disastrous had I stayed paralyzed. It wasn't like going to the Underworld or a demon dimension; Pan lives in a place untouched by outside influence, so there's little danger of the spirit being damaged while it is outside of the body."

"Actually, I meant embracing chaos." Bruce slipped the security disc from the Watchtower into the computer.

"Then it probably was a little dangerous."

Bruce lifted his left eyebrow. "Why? What happened then?"

She shrugged. "It worked out for the best. I told him some jokes, electrocuted myself on a light socket, then lit a fuse on his bomb." She grinned. "I told him the fuse was from my Wonder Utility Belt."

Bruce laughed; behind him, he heard Alfred's soft chuckle.

Diana smiled, then said thoughtfully. "Of course, the hard part was repressing the chaos after that. It's still in me, just not as immediate or as powerful." She yawned. The clock read four-thirty. "How do you manage to stay awake so late every night?"

Bruce replied, only half-seriously, "I have a playboy reputation to protect. Stay awake all night, sleep all day, be late for meetings, and the like." He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard, calling up video from the security disc. He glanced at Alfred, signaled that he and Diana needed privacy.

Alfred nodded slightly. "I'll bring you some coffee, miss," the butler said, then went back up to the main house.

Batman waved her over to the console, determined to keep his hands off of her. The indulgence is over, he reminded himself. There is only this case. But he was still hyper-aware of her movements, her scent, her voice. "This is why I called you down here."

"When was this?" She was looking at the stilled image on the oversized screen. Her sister, Donna, Nightwing, the Flash, and some other Titans were gathered around the table.

"Thirty-two days ago." Batman pointed at Troia. "Watch your sister."

He pushed a button. The video began to play. Onscreen, Donna got up from her seat, walked to the refrigerator. She opened the freezer, pulled out a half-gallon of ice cream. At the table, Arsenal and the Flash began a heated argument about cow's milk versus goat's milk, capturing the amused attention of the rest of the Titans.

"Here it is," Batman said. Donna pulled something from a small pocket on her uniform, threw it on the ice cream bucket and into the freezer. Her mouth moved slightly. She placed the bucket back into the freezer compartment.

Diana's brow furrowed. "I think she just cast a spell."

Batman nodded. "That is what I thought. Interestingly, throughout the tape it shows the Green Lantern going to the freezer for ice cream one hundred and seven times."

"Why would she--" Diana shook her head. "Never mind about that right now. She's off-planet, we can't ask until she makes it back here."

"I know. Helping the S'Edput colonizers rescue some of their miners. Five miles underground, out of transmission range." He pulled up another file from the disc. The two of them earlier that day. "I've heard estimates of at least another one and half to two weeks before they return."

Drumming her fingernails on the console, Diana said, "Yes, that's right. There's got to be a way to figure out what the spell was before that, though."

On the monitor, Diana leans against the counter next to the fridge, eating a pomegranate, carefully taking the seeds off, one by one, then popping them into her mouth. Batman enters the room, heading directly to the fridge for water.

Diana greets him, then mentions the Wayne Foundation auction and fundraiser at which she is slated to speak in two weeks.

She asks him, "Do you have your date lined up yet?"

"Yes." He looks into the fridge, frowns. "The water is gone."

"Wally just drank it all. Try the sink," Diana says.

"Why?"

"Because he was thirsty, and because there is water in the tap."

The camera caught Batman's long-suffering look. "Why do you ask about the date?"

Diana sighs. "Mine just turned me down."

"Funny." Batman says, filling a glass. "Count yourself lucky. Bruce Wayne is obliged to try to seduce all of his dates. On a date with Wonder Woman, not only would they film every second of the seduction, the paparazzi would follow us into the bedroom."

"Do you actually seduce them?" Diana looks horrified by the thought. "ALL of them?"

"No. Too many scars for them to ask questions about." Batman opens the freezer, looking for ice. "Usually Wayne just kisses and fondles, then slips them something harmless so that they think that something happened but they won't remember, or he tells them that something isn't working."

Diana chuckles. "So that is where those rumors started."

"What rumors?" Batman looks at her sharply. He jerks an ice cube tray from the back of the freezer; several ice cream cartons start to wobble.

"That Bruce Wayne--" Diana puts out her hand to catch a carton as it threatens to fall, "--isn't interested in women. That he can't do the deed. I read it in a tabloid, I think." She replaces the carton in the freezer; Batman sticks the tray back; their hands--his gloved, hers bare--touching in the process. Their expressions and postures suddenly change.

"I can do the deed, Diana," Batman says, pulling her close. She wraps her arms around his neck, lifts herself into his kiss.

In the cave, Batman stilled the video. The tension between them was palpable. Determined to remain on track, Batman ignored Diana's quick, heavy breathing, ignored his own urge to throw her down and re-enact the scene that had been about to take place onscreen

"As you can see," he said, "there was a significant change when we made contact with the ice cream cartons and/or the freezer."

"Yes," Diana whispered. She said at a normal volume, "You lip read. Is there a way that we can find out what she said in the spell?"

"I've had the computers working on isolating her voice from the rest of the video, but I don't think she said it out loud." Batman made a few adjustments on his computer. "We might be able to, at least somewhat, determine what she said. The problem is that her profile is to the camera."

"Can it recreate her face in a 3-D model?"

"That might work. It'll take me a few minutes."

Diana wandered around the cave while Bruce worked; he was thankful for that--it was easier to concentrate when she wasn't within arms reach.

"I've got it," he said after ten minutes.

Diana returned to the console station. He played the computer generated model of her mouth movements, and he realized almost immediately that it wasn't English, and told Diana.

"Between the two of us, however, I'm sure that we know enough languages that we can do this," he added.

He began sounding out the words. Diana leaned in closer to him, listening carefully.

"It's Greek," she announced. She picked up a pencil and starting writing what Donna had said. They went through it three times--some of the words they simply could not identify with certainty. Lip reading did not provide perfect phonetic translation.

She read, "By the gods of Olympus, I entreat that desire suppressed, want not wanted, shall be--this isn't clear here, it sounds like both 'enacted on' and 'horseflies.'" She grinned. "I think it is 'enacted on'--enacted on, until--and I'm not sure about this, either, but I think it is--the object is destroyed." Diana sighed. "I'm pretty sure that we missed a few words in there."

Batman nodded. "She was whispering, so she wasn't enunciating and using her mouth as precisely as someone speaking at a normal tone would. We were bound to miss a few." He hesitated before adding, "It's pretty clear what the spell was, though. 'Want not wanted.' For me, I've always had a thing for unattainable brunettes: Selina, Talia. I suppose it's my way of punishing myself for surviving when my parents didn't. Wanting what I could never have. Up there, that must have been you." He was only partially lying; he didn't think that Diana would pick up the lies--she was too distracted, shaken.

He saw the brief flash of hurt in her eyes and suppressed the niggling of guilt it caused. She said, "And for me--well, I've been feeling a little lonely lately, and my date had just turned me down, and I think that I just wanted that physical comfort that a man's touch could bring me."

Batman bit back a snort of laughter. She was a terrible liar. At least his lie fit in with his personality, so that it was plausible. The idea that Diana would crave a man's touch because she was lonely and depressed was ludicrous. He wondered why she thought he would believe it. And what was she lying about to hide?

"Well," Diana said, looking desperately toward the transporter. "I can go destroy the fridge. The middle of a volcano should do it."

"'Destroy the object'? Good idea." Batman watched as she grabbed her uniform from a counter and hurried to the changing room. He smiled when she closed the door. Diana, modest in front of him? It seemed that she was aware of him now, in a way she hadn't previously been. It used to be, she would have stripped down and changed right there.

He suddenly scowled. He shouldn't be taking pleasure in this, he thought. She was going to go to the Watchtower, destroy the freezer, and it would be over.

It seemed too easy, though.

Wonder Woman emerged in her uniform a minute later. He had returned to the Joker file, searching for signs of unusual activity before the escape.

"Will you consider letting me train a few times with Batgirl?"

Swinging his chair around to face her, Batman shook his head. "I don't think so."

He was relieved when she didn't argue. Batgirl would probably have benefited from training with a powered individual, especially a warrior as skilled as Diana; he just wanted to limit his own contact with Diana for a while.

She entered the transporter, punched the coordinates for the JLA tower. She met his eyes for the first time since their contact on the med-table, and said wistfully, "It may be the spell talking, but I almost regret destroying the fridge. It was a great night, Bruce. All of it. And if things were different, if things would work, I would love to do it all again." She smiled wickedly. "Especially the sex."

She vanished with a buzz of electrified air molecules, leaving Batman in his cave, his mouth open, expression astounded.

When that woman was honest, he thought, she was REALLY honest.

***

Great Hera, are you stupid? Diana raged at herself as she strode down the corridor toward the Watchtower's kitchen. As priceless as his expression had been . . . she shook her head. How would she look at him at the next JLA meeting?

It was the spell, she reminded herself. Just the spell.

In the kitchen, she tore the refrigerator from the wall, said hello to an amused Martian Manhunter, who was eating cereal at the table, and carried it back down the corridor to the transporter. She sent it to the center of Mt. Vesuvius.

She opened a link to the Green Lantern. "GL, are you awake?"

Kyle, his hair mussed and eyes sleepy, appeared on the monitor. "Wonder Woman?"

"Kyle, do you still want ice cream?"

He looked confused. "What? No." Then, more happily, "No! Whoo hoo! My craving's gone!"

Diana frowned. Hers wasn't.

***

Bruce spent two restless nights, thoughts of Diana plaguing both his dreams and waking moments. Destroying the refrigerator hadn't worked; avoiding her wasn't working. GL had been released, though.

Batman had been through the video several times, but couldn't find anything. His investigation into Joker's escape was going nowhere, too. The clown simply wasn't making appearances anywhere. He told himself to concentrate on his work, to forget her. It hadn't worked.

And he wanted to see her.

He told himself that he was simply worried; her behavior had been, of late, slightly erratic. Their conversation that night in the Bat-mobile had betrayed a shifting in Diana's beliefs, and doubt in her mission. He told himself that he was simply going to keep an eye on her until he was sure that she didn't pose a danger to herself or anybody else.

With Batgirl as an unwitting chaperone.

He could tell Diana was surprised that he had contacted her. She looked distracted, uncertain of how to act. Wondering if she was having the same problem getting him off her mind as he had thinking about anything but her, he said, "I'm sending you an address. It's a sewer entrance, and a map will be there. Four o'clock."

"Why?"

"To train with Batgirl."

He saw the sudden excitement in her eyes; despite himself, he hoped that a little bit of it was in anticipation of seeing him. "Then we will patrol. Seeing her techniques is useless unless you see her in action."

"Thank you, Batman. You won't regret it." She switched the monitor off.

"I hope I won't, too," he said to himself, his words echoing in the depths of the cave.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Chapter 3: The Light

Dick Grayson plopped down on the chair next to Barbara Gordon's desk and sighed heavily. He sighed again, louder, when he noticed that she hadn't been paying attention to his first one.

She looked up from her computer screen. "What?" She wrinkled her nose. "What's that smell?"

"Me." He leaned over and pulled off a boot, grunting. "He's insane, Babs. In. Sane."

"The Joker? Of course he is." She glanced at a piece of equipment when it beeped softly, and hit a few buttons on her keyboard. The beeping stopped. "Get those boots out of here--god, you're all wet and stinky. Change out of your uniform in the bathroom or something."

Dick sat forward in the seat, waving a malodorous finger in front of her face. "Not Joker. Batman. Our dear beloved Bruce. You know Tim and I were going into the sewers, but do you know why?"

"Tell me before you permanently ruin that chair with the puddle you are creating," Barbara said, "then get out of here and change."

"Because we were checking up on a lead he had. 'Dick, I need you and Robin to check out this faint signal. It might be the first sign of the Joker that we'd been hoping for,' he says." Dick swiped a hand through his hair; droplets of water fell onto the desk. Barbara glared. "And you know what the signal was from? A toy. A dumb remote control boat that got caught in the sewers. Robin and I chased that thing all the way to 12th Street before we saw it and realized that the signal was moving, not because it was attached to a person, but because the boat was in the current of a bunch of scum." He tapped his finger on the desk, hard. "And I bet it was because he didn't think that she should be down in the sewers."

"Well, she is a princess. Or was," Barbara said. "And used to be a goddess. Would you send her down there?"

Dick leaned back in the chair. "I wouldn't presume to send her anywhere."

"My point exactly." Barbara turned back to her monitors. "Go change, then bring back a mop."

"Yes, ma'am," Dick stood and saluted her, but did as she said.

He returned ten minutes later, showered and in fresh jeans and t-shirt, carrying a sponge and a bottle of spray detergent.

"Good boy," she said when she saw the cleaning supplies, and smiled. "Now you smell like peaches."

"Yeah, well, it's to serve as a startling juxtaposition to my astounding manliness."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Sure it is."

Dick looked up at the screens, each filled with data or a video picture. "Anything going on?"

"Batman and Diana are on their way downtown to check out a tripped alarm in a jewelry store, and Batgirl and Spoiler are chasing down some baddies east-side."

"No word on the Joker?"

"None."

"How comforting it is to know that he's out there, waiting, preparing to die and most likely planning to take most of the city out with him," he said dryly. "And nothing more on Dr. Kaeklis?"

Barbara pushed her glasses up, eyed him seriously. "Except for that lab test showing that Joker's gonna bite the big one anytime soon, and one modest donation to the recently departed conjurer of gods, Maxie Zeus, there is no indication at all that Kaeklis had any dealings with any other criminals in his life--ever."

"Maxie Zeus." Dick shuddered. "Now that scene wasn't pretty. A possessed-Batman-as-god-of-fear-ugly-demon-thing gave even me nightmares. Good thing Wonder Woman was there. Or is it Wonder Bat now?" He lifted an eyebrow. "What is it with those two? Are they, you know, doing it? I've heard rumors. . ." His voice trailed off.

Barbara grinned. "From Wally?" Dick nodded. She added, "So have I."

"Do you think there's any truth to that? In the kitchen?"

"I don't know, but--" Barbara stopped, and checked around the room to make sure that Batman hadn't entered silently at some point. He had a habit of doing that. "--Bruce removed the security video discs AND the backups for the kitchen two weeks ago."

Dick's mouth dropped open. "Holy secret humpings. It's true then." He laughed, then quickly sobered. "Wait, no it's not. Not only have they had Batgirl as a chaperone eighty percent of the time, he's been like a bear with a sore head the last two weeks, snapping and angry, and brooding even more than usual. I assumed it's just the pressure over the Joker missing, but . . . well, let's face it: no man on Earth--or beyond--could be unhappy while bumping uglies with Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman!" He smiled dreamily.

Barbara snorted. "You look like a horny calf when you get that look in your eyes."

"Moo," Dick said, then sat up straight in shock when he heard Diana's voice. He was relieved when he realized she was speaking over the network.

"Oracle, I'm plugging in a feed from the recorder on my cowl. We found a body on the floor; see if you can run a make on his face. Looks like there was a double-cross in here. I'll be up on the roof in a minute to scan the onlookers; Batman thinks that this guy's partner will probably hang around to get a look at the results of his handiwork." Wonder Woman's voice came clearly through the speakers.

"He's usually right," Barbara spoke into the small microphone on her headset. "Okay, receiving feed." A picture of a man lying in a pool of blood next to a jewelry counter appeared on one of the monitors.

"I'm always right," Batman said. "As soon as you get the identity of the man here, cross reference it with the faces Diana's going to scan in the crowd."

"Starting search now." A name popped up on her screen. "Wow, that was fast. Batman, Diana, that guy's name is Roger Brit. Small time thief, but he's got record a mile long. All petty stuff, nothing of the nature of a high security jewelry chain. We've got a list of known associates to work with."

"Good. Diana should be up there now to get you some faces."

"Almost there. Patching through live feed." A monitor showed a stairwell; by the jiggling of the camera, Dick could tell she was running up the stairs.

"Why doesn't she fly?" he whispered, and Barbara shrugged.

Diana was on the roof now, looking over the ledge down at the crowd watching the spectacle of police cars and ambulances. She swept the camera over the onlookers.

"No matches yet," Barbara said.

"There is going to be something," Batman's low growl came through the speakers. "Keep looking."

Diana walked the perimeter of the roof, scanning the face of every passerby.

"Still nothing," Barbara updated them.

Dick spotted a familiar face and grabbed a headset. "Hold on, Diana, swing back."

"Nightwing?"

"Yeah, hi, Wonder Woman. The blond guy, glasses, red backpack standing far back and to the left of the farthest police car. I know him."

Barbara ran him through the database. "Not an associate of Brit's. Checking criminal database. It'll take a minute or two."

"Give me a visual," Batman said. Barbara sent a digital picture to his handheld viewer. "That's Donnie Hager. Likes explosives. Diana, quickly, sweep the roof and surrounding dumpsters, everything, for a bomb. I'll do the inside here."

"Do you think he might be trying to cover up a new penchant for murder?" Dick asked.

"Yes," Batman said.

Dick wrote on a piece of paper, then showed it to Barbara: I HATE IT WHEN HE'S RIGHT. She grinned.

Dick watched as the picture on Diana's monitor blurred as she searched for the explosives, moving more quickly than her recorder could accurately portray. The picture stilled a moment later, the camera pointing at a large tangle of wires and plastique behind a pile of crates.

"Found it," Diana announced, and moved in closer. She gently lifted it. "Oh no." The clock read seven, six seconds. "Batman, mind if I break the 'no flying' rule?"

She was already in the air when he said, "Break it. Use the harbor."

Dick watched as her camera picked up a stream of lights as she sped over the city, then darkness. She must be over the harbor, he thought. Her monitor showed a white splash from the impact of the bomb hitting the water, then the screen blanked out.

The sound of the explosion reached them in Barbara's tower; her windows rattled. Dick looked at her. "That was huge! The idiot might have been killed by his own bomb."

"Maybe not," Batman said. "The bomb was on the other side of the building, and he was a block further down than that. GCPD just put him in custody. Looks like his pack is full of jewelry. Diana, meet me at the car." A pause, and silence. "Diana?"

"Her monitor went blank at the explosion, Batman," Barbara informed him. "I thought it might be because of the lack of light over the harbor, but her equipment might have malfunctioned in the shockwave. She was pretty close to it."

"Her radio headset is designed to withstand that." Batman tried again. "Diana?"

Barbara and Dick looked at each other. There was an edge to Batman's voice, one they didn't recognize.

"I'm here," Diana's voice came through the speakers. "Sorry. Ouch. I had to turn off the headset for a minute; my ears were ringing."

Dick could hear the relief in Batman's voice, but was sure no one else, except maybe Barbara, would notice any difference from his usual growl when Bruce said, "Meet me at the car."

Barbara's eyes widened. So she noticed it, too. Dick turned off his microphone and motioned for her to do the same.

He said when she muted her headset, "He sounded awfully worried about someone who is near invulnerable, super-strong and super-fast, didn't he?"

***

Diana lay on her back, panting, sweating, trying to catch her breath. He’d done it again. She fought the urge to bounce up and lay waste to his handsome, smirking face; instead, she gathered her wits and considered her next move.

The roundhouse kick followed by the uppercut hadn’t worked; he’d caught her foot and upended her on her ass. She’d agreed not to use super-speed or strength, but at this point she was starting to regret that decision. She frowned. Not that it might have made a difference—she’d seen him defeat many villains and heroes who outclassed him in strength and speed. No, she had to find another way.

She glanced over at Batgirl, who was performing exercises on a dummy while Diana and Batman sparred. Batgirl cocked an eyebrow at Wonder Woman, executed a series of maneuvers on the dummy, then nodded slightly in Batman’s direction. Diana grinned. If that was a hint about how to get Bruce on his behind for once, she’d try it.

Not that Bruce was a dummy, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t stand still while she pounded on him. But, she thought, if I apply the moves right, and give careful consideration to his probable reaction to each one, and react accordingly, I can incorporate Batgirl’s suggestion into a new, quicker fighting style.

She flipped up to a standing position, tweaked her fingers in a "come on" gesture. The two combatants circled each other for a few moments, then engaged. Diana felt a moment of triumph when Bruce lost his balance for a split second; she knocked him over with a foot behind his left knee coupled with a punch to his right shoulder. He couldn’t counterbalance and went down on his knee.

"Nice," he said, then lashed out with his leg. She easily dodged his kick.

"I’m not falling for that one again."

They fought for forty more minutes, continually altering their fighting styles, until Batman slowly gained the upper hand again and took advantage of a gap in Diana’s defensive tactics. She went down.

She growled. "What was it this time?" She was heartened to hear his labored breathing. She wasn’t the only one who was getting a workout.

"After a series of low kicks, I notice that you lower your arms slightly. That gave me the ability to find a weak spot, because you overcompensate when I switch from kicks to punches. It takes a while, though, and I’m not sure how much your conscious dumbing down of your reflexes affects it."

Diana wiped her brow. "I am a warrior born, whether or not I am Wonder Woman. I shouldn’t be affected by having to deal with mortal constraints. I didn’t realize until that last two weeks how much I have relied on my powers when I fight; I have gotten soft."

Bruce rubbed his ribs. "I wouldn’t say soft." He motioned for Batgirl to join them, then continued, "You’ve always had an amazing amount of fighting skill; in the last two weeks you’ve picked up even more new fighting styles. Unpowered, you would still be a formidable opponent to anyone, including Batgirl and me."

Diana smiled at the seventeen year old Batgirl, whom she outweighed by at least forty pounds and topped by six inches. "Maybe not Batgirl," she said, completely serious.

Batman nodded in agreement. "Maybe not." He walked to a shelf where protective body pads were stored, took one down, and threw it to Diana. "Batgirl learned a new technique called Koga-Ryu while fighting the Shadow Thief last week. I want her to demonstrate it."

Diana positioned the pads over her torso and pulled the mitts over her hands. "Why do I have to be the dummy?"

Batman said, his focus on Batgirl, "Two reasons: I want to watch how she moves in relation to the other person, and your ribs are a lot stronger than mine. I've seen her do this without an opponent; the acceleration and force is astounding. The pads are actually for her sake; I want her to go all out, and hitting you can sometimes be like hitting a brick wall. I don't need her injured in practice."

"Do you want me to defend myself?"

"Can..try," Batgirl answered, an impis