Never Simple: Flight

He knew he shouldn't be there. Then again, there were many places he went where he shouldn't have gone. But this was different. This was her place.

He straightened and lifted a hand to the side of his head, discreetly hitting the button for night vision. Instantly, everything took a greenish cast and became illuminated. He took in as much of the room as he could before moving. She seemed to be out tonight. His eyes narrowed unconsciously. For what reason? he found himself thinking. And with whom? He shook his head slightly. It could be for any reason. For all he knew, she could be on the other side of the world right now.

Or should could be out with another man.

He clenched his jaw. That wasn't her style though—the fact that it also wasn't his place to disapprove of such things notwithstanding. Aside from a few deviations now and then, he didn't really know her to go out. Much like himself, unless he was obligated. More often than not, he was all business—and so was she. That was one of the things that attracted him to her; she took her job and role as seriously as he did. The others didn't quite seem to share that all the time.

As he moved from room to room, he took everything in. She was a fan of the classical arts—no surprise there. Paintings and vases decorated much of her living spaces, but other than those things, her apartment was fairly Spartan. He caught himself smiling. He liked that about her—just the necessities. He kept most of his luxuries for posterity's sake. Her bedroom wasn't much different. She had a vanity—for some reason he enjoyed imagining her using such an antiquated piece of furniture—a bed, and not much else in the room. There was very little evidence it was inhabited regularly, let alone by a woman. He ran a few gloved fingers over the surface of her vanity and they came up clean. At least she was tidy. He supposed that most of the others would call what he was doing underhanded somehow… but he wasn't going to do anything. He just wanted to see…

He bed was made to perfection and had the faint scent of spices lingering around it. She had a nightstand on one side with a book on it. It was in Greek. He lifted it, paged through it a bit, then put it back. He only knew a little Greek, and so couldn't make much sense out of it. Idly, he wondered if she spoke it when no one else was around. He walked to her dresser and opened a few drawers. They were filled with regular, civilian clothing. He closed it. What had he been expecting? Five drawers filled with her superhero outfit? He smiled to himself; he didn't think she'd need five entire drawers for what she wore. He didn't see her in civilian clothing much, but after seeing that she owned so much of it, he decided to keep his eye out for her more.

All of a sudden, he heard the faint click of the front door unlocking. He darted into the shadows behind one of the curtains and hoped she didn't try to get some fresh air. He watched as lights turned on and off as she went about her business, slowly making her way to the bedroom. He slowed his breathing and pressed himself against the wall. She hummed as she went into the bathroom. The door closed and he heard water start to run. He relaxed a little. Good. Now he had time to get out; he had thought she'd be busy all night and hadn't planned on her coming back. He turned to open the window and slip away before she came out of the bathroom, but froze as he heard the door open again. He turned and drew his cape about himself, remaining as still as possible. He'd just wait until she was asleep before he slipped out. Her humming grew louder as she came into the room, and he didn't have to breathe slowly anymore because it caught in this throat.

She had her dark hair pulled up in a fashion that allowed half of it to cascade down her shoulders artfully, and the dark blue shimmering dress she wore made her eyes shine more than usual. He had never been in the habit of praying to any sort of deity, but here was an otherworldly beauty if he ever saw one. She paused for a moment in the middle of the room to take her shoes off—they had only an inch or so heel to them, enough to be elegant, but not to give too much height to her already tall body. A sigh escaped her as she placed the shoes in her closet. Straightening, she reached up and slipped the dress's straps off her shoulders.

His jaw clenched again and he turned his head to avert his eyes. How could he play the peeping Tom to one of his colleagues? Yet… wasn't seeing her something he desired? He had always prided himself on being a man of iron willpower… but he felt himself wanting more and more to just give in and watch her. He fought a small battle with himself before finally turning his head and giving in. She had taken off her evening dress and donned a sheer nightgown that only brushed the middle of her thighs. It was more an item of lingerie than of sleepwear, and it hit him that she might have a guest—or be expecting one. His gut tightened at the thought and he narrowed his eyes. All thought left his mind, however, as she raised her hands above her head and stretched the entire length of her body. He couldn't help but notice the taught, straightness of her lines and the smoothness of her curves. Perhaps one of the others could have, but he was only a man, and even he was subject to biological responses. He either had to get out of there fast somehow, or step in and say something.

She lowered her arms and went to her vanity, sitting at it and removing her various accessories, putting each in their place. The nightgown was a dark sea-green and while it didn't quite reveal everything, nothing was hidden from view. After everything was away, she pulled out an ivory and silver brush and set it on the vanity, reaching up to pull several pins out of her hair. His throat tightened as she gently shook her head to loosen the hair as it fell down her back. He had always been a sucker for long hair. Unconsciously, he balled his hands into fists to try and regain his self-control, and watched as she froze. Hand holding the bush mid-stroke through her hair, she rotated in her chair to look around the room.

"Who's there?" she asked, eyes narrowing. Upon not receiving an answer, she stood, gripping the brush. "Whoever you are, show yourself."

She didn't even care that she was entirely exposed, he noticed. There was no thought of modesty or of covering herself. He couldn't let her search and find him, he had to say something first, but nothing was coming to his mind. Perhaps she wouldn't look, he thought mildly, but quickly dismissed it. She had been a warrior far too long not to make sure the coast was clear. But what would he say? How would he explain himself? Trusting that something would come to mind, he stepped away from the shadows.

"Batman?" she exclaimed. "What in the world are you doing here?"

He kept his eyes averted, his head obviously turned.

"Diana, I…" She cut him off.

"What's wrong? Is there trouble?"

He shook his head. "No more than usual."

She lowered her hand and straightened from a position of attack. Cocking her head to one side, she regarded him.

"Why are you here then?"

"Robe," was all he said.

Her brow furrowed. "Robe? What…" She looked down at herself and understood what he meant. "Oh." Quickly, she went to her closet and pulled out a short blue robe, which she donned. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," he replied. It was odd to him that it didn't even occur to her to be embarrassed.

"If there's no impending trouble, why are you here?" She folded her arms under her chest.

"Think of it as me just checking up on my colleagues." He hoped, hoped she wouldn't question him more.

Her eyes narrowed—never a good sign for those she was looking at. "Do you always do this sort of thing?"

Oh, how he wanted to lie. But he had made an oath to himself not to, especially to his teammates. "No."

"Then why?"

"I wanted to see you… to make sure you were doing all right." Perhaps a vague unspoken reference to her recent exile from her home would be enough to convince her to leave the subject and let him leave. Bruce wasn't used to being caught—but then again, this was a seasoned superhero he was dealing with.

Diana's face softened. "You really care that much?" She sounded like a little girl looking for approval and affection after years of none.

A lump formed in Bruce's throat. "Of course." Pause. "If you're not emotionally well, it affects your performance with the league."

Her eyes hardened again and she whirled away from him in anger.

"Everything is about business to you, isn't it?" she accused. "Can't you care about someone just to care about them? Why must there always be an ulterior motive?"

There isn't always a motive, he wanted to tell her, not even with me.

"Nothing is simple, Princess," he said instead. She looked back at him, and his breath caught in his throat at the emotion welling in her eyes.

"Don't I know it," she said. "You all seem to think that I know nothing of the world, and that I am some sort of sheltered little girl." She took a few steps toward him. "I know about deception, I know about lying, I know about emotion." The Amazon's voice was thick.

"Diana, I didn't meant to imply—"

"No, of course you didn't." She glared at him, her eyes full of blue fire. "You know what, Bruce? I don't believe you this time." She drew close enough to him that he could smell the mint on her breath and a heady scent of what he assumed to be a body lotion product of some sort. It made his thoughts fuzzy and tingled his senses. Even without her shoes on and with his boots on, he was only a little taller than her, so she looked him straight in the eye.

"What don't you believe?" His instincts warned him they were starting to walk onto dangerous ground, but he found he couldn't stop himself. Despite that, he kept his face stoic and his stance the same.

"That…" She faltered a bit here. They were both stubborn people, however, and neither would back down from the other. "That…" Diana paused a moment and studied him. Bruce didn't give anything away from what little she could see of his expression. Something just didn't sit right with her, though. Something was off…

She shook her head and sighed. "I don't know. You're very hard to read."

"I know." It was only years of practice and training that he was able to keep his voice even while his heart pounded in his chest. "And you wear your emotions on your face."

She blushed, proving his point. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"You can't hide anything to those observant enough, and that can be used against you."

"Which is why you were spying on me." It wasn't quite a statement, nor quite a question.

He narrowed his eyes. He thought they were past that detail. "Checking up on."

A smirk spread over her face and she put her hands on her hips. She had caught him. She finally remembered what it was about this that bothered her. "Except for the fact that I didn't intend to be here tonight."

Bruce started a little. "Didn't you?" He kept his voice calm. "Where were you intending on being?"

"Does it matter?" She raised an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a moment. "Not really."

She pursed her lips. Could he really not care? Had she guessed wrong? Or…

"I don't believe you," she said again. Or she could call his bluff.

His eyes narrowed. "Believe what you want." He turned to leave through the window.

"Bruce, wait." Her voice held a hint of desperation to it that caused him to stop and look back at her.

She lowered her eyes. "Since…. Since you're here… would you mind staying with me a little bit?"

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. This wasn't like her, but he didn't think she was playing at anything. Diana was most definitely not the kind of woman to be deceptive, and even if she was, he considered himself a good enough judge of people that he would be able to tell. Still, her request made his heart pound.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She didn't meet his gaze. "Just… some nights I get so lonely. I don't like staying in the Watchtower all the time, but… I guess since I now cannot return to Themyscira and see my sisters… my mother…" Her voice caught on the last word and she bit her lip. He could tell she was fighting back tears, and wondered why she was showing this side of herself to him. He turned all the way to face her as she drew in a deep breath. "I suppose now that has transpired, I feel very alone."

"But you're not alone."

Now she did look up at him. There was no comfort to be found on his face or in his voice.

"I know. All of you have been a godsend through this… especially J'onn and Clark. They both lost their families in one way or another, too."

Bruce's jaw clenched only the tiniest bit. Of course she wouldn't consider his past, though she had probably looked it up after he revealed his secret identity. Not that J'onn or Clark languished in losing their families, but it was so far away from Bruce and how he conducted himself that it rarely occurred to the others. He just never talked about it. Part of him wanted to relate with her, however, to empathise with her, but another part of him wanted to tell her to get over it. He listened to neither of them, and to both of them.

"Everyone loses someone, Diana," he told her. "All we can do is continue on."

She sank down on her bed. "Oh, I know. But that doesn't make me less lonely."

He just watched her; he wasn't sure what to say to that. A feeling of awkwardness settled over them.

"So… so you will stay with me tonight?" she asked him. His head snapped to look at her.

All night? His gut twisted. "I thought it was just for a little while?"

Her cheeks reddened considerably as he pointed out her Freudian slip.

"I—I didn't mean—"

"I think you did," he cut her off, suddenly leaning close to her. She couldn't find her voice with him so close. He smelled of sweat and leather and it made her unable to think.

"Bruce…" She looked up at him through half-closed lids and his stomach tightened at the dark look she gave him. She had always been severely honest and direct in her naivety. That was something he always liked about her, even if it was to a fault. She reached up to touch his face. He nearly let her, but then drew back.

"Diana, we can't."

She settled for grabbing his forearm instead.

"Why not?" Her voice held some anger in it. "You care about me, don't you?"

"Well, I—of course I do—"

"And I care about you. What more reason do we need?" Her grip on his arm tightened and he knew he couldn't escape it if he wanted to.

"It's not so simple, Diana."

"Why can't it be simple, Bruce?" Her blue eyes caught and held his. "Why do you have to complicate things unnecessarily?"

His instincts had been right. This was very dangerous ground.

"I'm not complicating things. They are already that way." He swallowed, hard.

Without warning, she yanked him closer, so their noses were almost touching. Her breath warmed his face, and it hit him that her heart was pounding, too. He could feel her heat and knew she could feel his—especially in what little she was wearing. The thought of that made him almost make a small noise in his throat, but he caught himself in time. Their proximity was too close for him to properly think straight.

"Yes, Bruce," she said in tones huskier than she'd intended, "you are." Without letting him go, she rose to her feet. "I may not have been in Man's World for long, Bruce Wayne, but I do know what it is that you want." Her eyes threatened to drown him.

"You think so, Diana?" Batman had to keep his cool, but having his name roll off her tongue didn't help that cause.

She shortened the distance between them again, so that their bodies were almost brushing each other. He couldn't suppress a shiver. Diana smiled like molasses.

"I think I do." Her voice dropped slightly. "I want it, too, Bruce."

He stiffened, then jerked his arm back, surprising her enough to break her grip on him. He grabbed both her arms and leaned in close.

"We can't always have what we want, Princess." Before she could speak or move, before she could think of a response, he captured her mouth with his own. This wasn't like the other times—when she had given him a peck on the cheek after they saved Gorilla City from the warheads, or even the very much extended kiss they shared during the Thanagarian invasion. No, this kiss held many hidden things in it, and told her she was more than right about what he wanted. As her brain slowly caught up with her sensations, she felt him pull away as quickly as he had grabbed her. Her eyes flew open, only to see her curtains blowing gently in the night air. She let loose a string of curses and ran to the open window, to no avail. He was gone.

A/N: I love the dynamic of Bruce trying to avoid anything and everything about a relationship. Dark, broody types are fun to write.