Disclaimer: I own nothing about JLU. Nothing. Even if I could do very naughty things to Batman if he was mine :p

A/N: This didn't come out the way I originally intended, but at least I got the line in that I wanted to. Would you believe that I dreamed this?

Enjoy!

Pragmatism

Diana was angry.

Everyone else knew better than to get in her way, and heroes were diving out of her path left right and centre. The light beading of sweat on her brow and the direction she was coming from indicated that she'd been in the training room, perhaps sparring, since the droids alone were certainly not enough to make her sweat.

Anyone who didn't know better would think that Wonder Woman and Superman had been training, since surely the only person who could win in a bout against the Amazon had to be the strongest man on the planet.

They'd have been wrong.

The person to put the thunderous expression on the princess's face was Batman.

He'd won.

That in itself didn't bother her. It wasn't as if it was the first time, even.

No, what bothered her was that she'd just spent the past two and a half hours with Batman consistently using her greatest weakness against her. Her greatest weakness being what he did to her. And he knew that. But he'd never before used it against her.

They'd come to a mutual understanding – eventually. They'd both pretend that there was nothing between them. Diana would ignore the fact that she was angry that Bruce was standing in the way of something. Bruce would ignore that fact that Diana was in love with him. Humiliation had been successfully avoided for the last two years. For some reason (and she had no idea what that was), he'd decided that a little humiliation was what Diana deserved.

So she was angry.

Obviously, being the woman of action that she was, Diana had confronted him.

Bruce had just looked at her in that direct, menacing, belittling way of his, and flatly denied that he was doing any such thing.

Then they began again. And once more, Diana found herself pressed against the wall, her arms above her head, every inch of her body crushed against his. His breath was unbearably hot against her neck – he moved closer, almost, almost skimming his mouth along her collarbone in a move that was undeniably provocative, and despite all her best efforts made Diana inwardly tremble. She couldn't have moved at that point even if she'd wanted to.

Bruce drew back from her neck, moved upward until his mouth was centimetres away from hers. It remained there for less than a millimetre, and then he moved back, taking advantage of Diana's temporary immobility, he snapped his head forward again, his forehead colliding with the bridge of her nose.

That was the point she'd lost her temper.

She hated that Bruce was the only person who could do that to her. But mostly she wanted to hurt him. She didn't really care how.

To that end, Diana slammed her knee upward. Bruce crumpled.

Diana left – knowing that her supposed victory was utterly hollow. They were sparring. It was supposed to be an intellectual, helpful training session. And Diana, by dint of the fact that she'd lost her temper, had lost the bout.

She'd just gotten out of the shower – only slightly calmer – and changed into her uniform when her communicator went. J'onn was on monitor duty. In his calm voice he informed that he was sending she, Batman, Booster Gold, Flash, Zatanna and GL to Metropolis to help Superman, since the Ultra Humanoid, Giganta, Cheetah, Star Sapphire, Bizzaro Superman and Dr Destiny were all attacking, all at once. She flew to the transporters, noting that Batman wasn't there, but not caring. No doubt he'd be in the city already.

When they materialised in Metropolis, Diana stopped worrying that Batman was nowhere to be seen, and began trying to save people's lives. Her first priority was holding up a wall about to collapse onto a family while they escaped. However, a blast from Star Sapphire slammed into her back, and then the wall fell on top of her anyway. When she'd unearthed herself a few seconds later, it was to catch Cheetah mid-leap, claws outstretched to score along her face. Though the other woman was lithe, and agile, Diana was pissed, and she was superstrong. Cheetah hit a row of shops forty feet away with a yowl of pain.

Wonder Woman didn't get a chance to savour her victory, since Giganta was on her. Ordinarily she'd be fine, but for a fifty foot woman, Giganta moved ridiculously quietly, and fast. Still, it didn't stop Diana, and after the initial shock she retaliated, flying quickly around and slamming into the back of the huge woman's knee. Giganta let out a bellow and fell to her knees – then grabbed Diana and threw her against a building. Dazed and stunned, Diana lay there for a moment, trying to regain her senses.

It was a moment too long.

---

Batman had already returned to Gotham by the time the call came through from J'onn. Rather than teleport back up to the Watchtower, he took the Batplane to Metropolis, and followed the smoke trails to where his colleagues were battling. He arrived in time to feel his heart stop.

Diana was lying prone on the sidewalk, almost unconscious. And Giganta was preparing to drop a wall on her. Without thinking, Bruce altered course to drive the plane directly into Giganta's stomach. He ejected at the last moment, his parachute opening and allowing him to float down gently. The impact of the plane was anything but gentle, and the giantess fell, dropping the wall intended for Diana on her own head. Then she toppled forward.

And she took Bruce with her.

---

Diana regained her senses just in time to see the man she loved disappear under the rubble. "Hera, no!"

She dove toward it, heaving the shrunken unconscious figure of Giganta off and literally throwing the woman over her shoulder, then digging. Goddesses, was this how Bruce had felt in Gorilla city, digging her out? Utter, breathless terror, pain in her chest and barely seeing through swimming vision.

It took her no more than ten seconds or so to uncover him, but she'd dug so frantically that she'd cut her hands all over, uncaring of the pain or of the blood.

"Bruce!"

Without considering that he might be hurt, she dragged him out of the concrete, struggling not to cry. He was breathing, but unconscious. She shook him slightly. "Don't you dare die on me when I'm mad at you!" she whispered.

In her arms, Batman stirred and opened his eyes. Diana almost sobbed in relief. "Oh thank Hera," she breathed.

Bruce frowned at her. "You're mad at me?"

Before she could answer, Superman touched down a few feet away. "Are you both alright?"

Bruce immediately got up, moving out of her arms and standing without the slightest hint of dizziness or pain. Diana knew that he had to be feeling the effects of having a gigantic woman dumped on him, but he didn't show it at all. She wondered if the idea of being in her arms was that abhorrent to him, but for the moment she didn't care. Instead she just stayed knelt on the ground, drinking in the sight of him. He was alive. It didn't matter if he didn't love her, if from now on he couldn't stand the sight of her–

He. Was. Alive.

All she needed was to know that.

She stood, and soon enough they were being beamed back to the Watchtower. Knowing that if she met Bruce's gaze everything she felt about him would be bright and shining in hers, Diana hurried toward the elevator, intending on taking a cold shower. Somehow, Bruce ended up standing next to her.

She was trembling, but from what she couldn't say. All she knew for certain was that the air had become solid with tension, the elevator far too hot and stifling. Her hand wasn't quite in contact with his black glove and oh Hera she could feel his skin anyway. The elevator travelled jarringly, stopping and starting at what seemed like every level of the Watchtower. Little by little, it emptied, the other heroes filing out to get some well-earned rest. Diana was aware of her voice getting progressively higher with each farewell, was aware of Bruce's posture getting more and more rigid – if that were possible. She knew he was anticipating her doing something – but like her, had no idea what that would be. By the time it was only them and Booster Gold in the tiny box, every nerve in her body was tingling.

Still muttering about how badly overlooked he was, Booster Gold left. As soon as the doors were closed, Diana curled her fingers into a fist and punched his shoulder. Whatever Bruce had been expecting, it wasn't that. He staggered backward, opening his mouth to swear – but Diana beat him to it, grabbing his head and kissing him. Grasping hard at his hair, she held onto him desperately. It took him less than three seconds to recover from the surprise, and then he returned the kiss with the same passion, his fingers threading through her hair to fuse her lips to his. Every cell in his body was screaming the same thing. Too long, they called. Too long. He made it a point to have Diana in his arms – innocently in the last few years – at least once every twelve months. Just so he didn't forget how it felt.

He didn't remember it feeling this wonderful.

He never wanted to leave.

With that realisation, Bruce forced himself to pull back, his breathing ragged with reluctance and lack of air. He didn't let go of her shoulders though, still revelling in warmth of her skin even through the leather of his gloves. Still, he pushed her away until she was at arms' length.

"Stop," he breathed, then swallowed and let some of the Bat creep in and strengthen his tone. "Diana, I can't, we can't. We need to be pragmatic about this."

It was the wrong thing to say. Anger and disbelief clouded her features; one hand shot out to slam into the wall of the elevator. "The hell with pragmatism!" she yelled. "Damn it, Bruce, why can't you just let it go?" Letting out a growl, Diana answered her own question. "Never mind, I know why you can't let it go – the same reason you never let anything go." Shaking her head, she turned back to him, blue eyes full of an unbearable sadness that cut straight to his core. "Why aren't I enough, Bruce?"

It was a simple question.

It was one that made absolutely, positively no sense.

She was enough, she'd always been enough – she'd always been too much, too wonderful, too perfect for him. He was the one that wasn't enough.

It was his turn to shake his head in incomprehension. "Diana…"

From the expression on her face, there was nothing he could say, and only one thing he could do.

So he did it.

He kissed her.

---

A/N: Review please!