(A/N) 12/17/17: Uh, well it's certainly been a while. Just about a year, in fact. Honestly, I don't really have anything I can say in way of apology; I thought I'd be able to update all of my stories on this website with better regularity, but I needed to finish up my freshman year of college and now I'm on my sophomore year. Real exciting stuff, y'feel me? I can't guarantee the next time I'll try to update this story; it might be a few weeks, a whole few months, but hopefully not another year, definitely not.

For now though, I'll say the same old spiel: for people who have been fruitlessly waiting for an update, welcome back. For people who have just now clicked on this story, welcome. Feel free to say a few words in a review, favorite, follow, and as always, I hope you enjoy.

Forty-One: Conversation

"Well, Bruce," Zatanna said, "it's been a while."

A cold breeze raked through the grassy knoll that she stood on, and when no response came from him, she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes and cross her arms. Leave it to Bruce for her to come out all this way and then have nothing to say to her.

"If it eases your conscience, I decided to just teleport here. Saved a half grand on a plane ticket. Aren't you proud of me?" She cupped her chin in her hands and winked at him, but there was no real intention to it; it was only an exchange between two friends. They both knew that.

Still no response from him; figures that she would come on a bad day. Joints creaking and groaning in complaint she knelt down to sit on the ground, brushing away any stray blades of grass that might get cling to her civvie clothes.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But hey, I think if anything, I like coming out here to visit you. It's nice country out here—"—at this, she craned her head up to admire the open sky and rolling serenity of the hills around them—"—I think that it's worth it on you to retire someplace like this, you know? Out of all of us, I'm pretty sure you're the one who needed it the most."

A moment of comfortable silence stretched out between the two of them, and she took it to lean quietly on him, without asking permission or waiting for him to return the favor. She knew that he wouldn't mind it anyways.

"Dick told me to say hello, and now that he's got the job of head honcho, he's getting the initial onset of what he calls 'premature assface,' now don't quote me on that one." she held up her hands in self-defense, suppressing a smile that was struggling to break free. "If you ask me, he must've inherited it from his old man."

She didn't wait for him to smile back, and laughed, a bright noise in the breezy stillness all around them. "He loves you, you know. Said he wanted you to be there for him and Kori's christening for their little girl, but he said he'd get it if you didn't feel up to the task. You know how men are, he wouldn't say it if I hadn't wrenched it out of him. I mean, you lived with yourself all that time, didn't you?"

She sighed, wistful and melancholy as she stared at him, and then looked at her watch, making a quiet noise of disappointment at the time. Another second and she looked back up to him, twisting up her mouth in a pucker of dismay.

"Time for me to head back, Bruce. I got a show in five and then watchtower duty after that. Lemme know if you want me to stop by again, alright?"

With a groan of soreness, she stood back up onto her feet and then stretched her arms to the yawning heavens, feeling her spine settle back into place. Her hands swung back down to her side, before she reached out to touch the smooth, granite top of the gravestone that said "Bruce Wayne," and exhaled a silent sigh.

"See you around, Bruce. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

She leaned down to press a kiss to the even surface of the gravestone, and read the epitaph of "gone, but far from forgotten" before she turned around and disappeared into a plume of smoke.

Forty-Two: Vodka

It was a long time ago; she was young and inexperienced, and unfortunately underestimated the power of one-too-many margaritas in the unmitigated allure of the open bar.

"Bruuuuce," she sang as he half-walked, half-carried her through the too-bright hallway to his room, "You know that I'm not tired. The night's still young!"

"You're right," he said in a calm, placating tone as he pushed her hands from roaming up the hem of his shirt (she had been admiring how his button-down was framing the stacked muscles of his torso just a little too much, but it was only the alcohol that had had spurred her to action), "But what you need right now is to rest."

"Rest, schmest." she grumbled with a little hiccough in her throat as the Bloody Mary brought back an aftertaste on her tongue. "You know what I really really really need?"

"Pray tell, Zee." he said, and she struggled to squirm out of the iron grip that he had on her shoulders. A quick bubbling giggle escaped her as she wrenched free and spun around, hitting the wall a little too hard for any normal, sober person but at a perfect trajectory for the inebriated. She kept her front to the wall but turned her head at an angle so that she could stare at him with what she assumed was a sultry look, pursing her lips in an effort to make them look bigger.

"Just you, loverboy." she winked at him with both eyes and let go of the wall. Wobbling more than she cared to admit, she turned to Bruce and tried to make an attempt at what could be only construed as a walk of pure seduction to someone who was as absolutely smashed as she was. Once she finally reached Bruce, he gathered her up into his arms again and held her carefully as she leaned back in his grasp, craning her head up at him.

"Just imagine, Bruce. You, me, in bed together…" she giggled again uncontrollably and puckered her lips up. "Come on, darling, just a kiss."

"Zee, you're drunk." Bruce said with soft authority in his voice, and she nodded vehemently at this observation.

"Very clev—clev—smart of you, Mr. Wayne. Don't I deserve a kiss for my accomplishment?" when he said nothing and continued to hold her and look down at his drunk companion, she cajoled him again. "Just a peck. Just a smooch?"

Before she could continue her litany of requests for kisses, Bruce leaned down to close the distance between the two of them, starting slow and soft but picking up in intensity, making her toes curl as she held on to his collar to stay anchored to the floor. His mouth was smooth but his kiss was rough, and he caught her bottom lip in between his teeth, making her whimper in surprise. He muffled a chuckle into her mouth before he stopped, and pulled away.

The two of them breathed heavy in the silence, but Zatanna was the first to recover.

"Wow!" she grinned. "So, uh, now what?"

"For me, TV. For you, bed."

Zatanna groaned loudly in complaint and lolled her head back for another moment before a thought came to her head, making her look back up to him. "And tomorrow?"

All Bruce had to say was, "Well, tomorrow is another day."

And unfortunately, Zatanna had to be satisfied with that for now.

Forty-Three: Engagement

"Hot damn. That is one helluva stone." Zatanna said as she sidled into the seat next to Barbara, who was admiring the diamond that glittered from its pocket in velvet. "How the hell did Kara afford that one on a reporter's budget?"

"Oh, it wasn't anything too strenuous," Barbara said as she removed it from the box to admire it, "she said just grabbed the biggest chunk of coal she could find and squeezed."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that was a thing," Zee mused aloud as she scooted closer in her flimsy wooden chair to glance at it a little closer. "Jesus, I think you could hold it as far away from you as possible and still manage to block out the sun."

"I don't think I'll be bemoaning my fate anytime soon." Barbara grinned, and turned to look up at Zatanna. "But I know I'm going to have to bulk up on my left arm or I'm afraid I won't be able to even lift it anymore."

"Hey, you can't wear that thing under the glove, remember? Someone's gonna take a picture of it and proceed to track down all your loved ones." Zatanna nudged a playful elbow into her ribs; Barbara laughed at the ridiculousness of this statement.

"Oh, please. My fiancée is Supergirl. How exactly are they going to threaten her, might I ask?"

"Hey, you never know. Someone might just have a red sun sitting around in their back pocket." Zatanna shrugged, and Barbara snorted in response. "So, when exactly is the big date?"

"We haven't set anything officially just yet, but I think we'll have it during the spring. That is when we met up, after all. It feels..right to the two of us." she shrugged, swiveling around in her seat. "Just wondering, but how do you feel about being a bridesmaid?"

"As long as I don't have to make a speech, then I'm definitely interested." she smiled, and cupped her head in her hands so she could look at the practical glow on her friend's face as she admired the bright, shining future ahead of her. Barbara looked over to her friend and bit the inside of her cheek for a moment of introspection, and then began to speak.

"All I ask is if you can set up something, like a 'no-harm-befalls anyone today' spell. I think...I know that Kara and I would really appreciate it." she looked to her friend with an almost earnest expression, and Zatanna couldn't help but feel a strong moment of empathy for all of the years that Barbara had gone through. Out of all the villains, the terror, the bruised, bloody knuckles, this was at least one moment that she could manage.

"Now that sounds like something a little more up my alley. I think I can work a little magic around for that." she smiled, and then paused. "Welcome to the Newlyweds Club, Babs. So glad you could make it."

Barbara lowered the glittering ring down from her eye level, and threw Zatanna a devilish grin. "Yeah, now you just have to catch up and join me there."

Zatanna was silent for a second and thought about a dark, brooding man with a gravelly voice, and long, long nights ahead of her.

"Uhhhh," she said, motioning for Barbara to pass her the ring so that she could admire it in the light, "Lemme get back to you in a little bit about that one."

Forty-Four: Hands

Zatanna was gentle as she traced the worn, creased lines of his right palm and furrowed her brow as she gave it a quick, analytical scan.

"Well," he said, more than humoring her just a little, "what exactly do you see, Zee?"

"Gimme a second, I'm trying to remember," she said, screwing up her face to try to remember the specific bullet points she wrote down on her study guide twenty minutes ago, "I'm pretty sure that this one—"—at this, she pointed at the line that creased in between the flesh of the index and thumb and curved down in an arc to the nook of the wrist—"—now this here is your life line."

"Mhm," Bruce replied noncommittally, "And what does it say about me?"

"Well, this line is thick and clear, which means…" she squinted as if she could almost see her notes, "...That you are suited to a life of physical labor...and that you're particularly good at sports." Her shoulders jumped up in a quick shrug. "So, more or less accurate."

"You're a natural at this," he deadpanned, and she swatted at his arm, prompting him to take on a neutral expression and try not to smile.

"Ready for me to tell you more about your future?" she asked testily, narrowing her eyes at him with a cutting glare.

"Oh, definitely. Please, by all means, continue on." he said, gesturing widely with the hand that was currently not having sharp nails dug into it.

"Well," she replied with a sniff, "This right here is your head line."

She pointed at the line that split out from the same junction as the life line, but extended straight out to end underneath his ring finger. "This line represents your wisdom, your intelligence, your common sense, yadda yadda yadda. So, I'm expecting to be very disappointed."

"Are you?" he arched an eyebrow. She didn't say anything for a moment, and continued to stare down at his hand.

"Well, it says here that you have a very, uh, clear mind. You're good at thinking, you're quick to respond to danger, and somewhat more considerate than others."

She looked up from her ministrations to look up to Bruce, who looked rather dubious at her palmistry judgement.

"'Good at thinking?'" he replied dryly, and she flicked his palm, sticking out a rather pink tongue at him.

"Shut up Bruce, that's what it said in the book I read."

"You know, Zee, I'm starting to get the feeling that the five dollars I paid for this palm reading was five dollars too many." Bruce said, leaning back in his seat with a grunt as she glared up at him again.

"Alright, alright; maybe, just maybe I needed a little more practice, but just lemme read one more line and then you can see what you think."

"Go for it." he said.

"Alright," she said, switching back to business, "This one is your heart line."

She traced the line that began from the left side of his palm near the top, that curved from the crease of his hand until it stopped underneath his forefinger in a solid arc. "This says that you engage in what is known as purely true love, without thinking for the consequences of your actions when it comes to romance, and that if there was anything that your true love needed, you would throw your entire life away just to be in their arms."

Bruce was silent in thought for a second, admiring the way that Zatanna delicately ran her fingernail over the line while waiting for him to respond.

"Okay," he replied, "Now I know I want my money back."

He laughed as he ducked away a swat from her, and it was safe to say that after that, the palmistry session was thoroughly over.