PROTOCOL 10
This is a silly one-shot I got in the mood to write. There's really no point to this story whatsoever except to have a few one-liners and strange, probably OOC situations. Also, I don't obsessively go over my fics the way I do my original works, so I apologize if doesn't seem as fully formed. That said, hope everyone enjoys.
The Watchtower – Monitor Womb
Tuesday, 8:37 AM
Courtney Whitmore loathed Monitor Womb duties. Most of the daily business was tedious and simply boring. The fun stuff, the command and control decisions, were the domain of the Operations Director, which was usually J'onn or Mr. Terrific. The lesser duties in the Womb were relegated to junior level or probationary League members, or simply to civilian staff. And typically, in addition to the Operations Director, there was a senior League member present in the womb or nearby in case of emergency.
Whether by coincidence or design of the schedule makers, when Courtney was on-duty, so was the Flash.
He made monitor duty tolerable. With his quick wit, he always had Courtney on the verge of laughing herself to tears. And he was always involved, happy to take over at a station to give a fellow Leaguer or staffer a ten minute break. Over a couple months working the monitors together, Courtney felt confident in calling Flash a pal.
It was nice to have a pal nearby, especially when you were basically a glorified secretary. She opened the morning by scanning various communications sent by League members to the Monitor Womb. Most of these were simple messages. Members verifying their schedules, or sending or requesting mission logs, or even scheduling teleport arrivals, Javelin usage, and…
Courtney's eyes widened. "O. M. G," she drawled. "Flash! You have to see this."
A few monitors over, Flash turned curiously towards his young friend. Pushing over in his rolling chair, he asked, "What's up, Stars?" The pretty young blonde girl merely pointed a manicured finger at the screen. Flash's jaw dropped. "S.T.F.U," was his reply.
"Do we do it?" Stargirl excitedly asked. "Do we initiate Protocol 10?"
Flash gravely considered the situation. With a sharp nod, he said, "Do it."
In an instant, Stargirl keyed herself into the Justice League intranet. With a simple command, she initiated a message to mailing list "PR-10". The message she typed comprised of only three short sentences.
"Protocol 10. It's on. 1700 hours."
With a burst of his patented speed, Flash was on the Operations Director platform with Mr. Terrific. "Michael, I wanna make a stationwide announcement."
"About what?"
"Protocol 10."
Mr. Terrific gaped at his colleague. "Today?" Flash nodded. "Holy moley." His fingers began to fly over the keyboard, bringing up the station's biometric readouts. "Just lemme check…" The two signatures he searched for were not on Watchtower. "Okay, we're clear. Give the call."
Flash flipped the toggle activating the intercom system throughout the Watchtower. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please, may I have your attention. This is Flash. As of 1700 hours tonight, we are in Protocol 10. Please see Mr. Terrific, myself, or Hawkgirl for assignments. Repeat, at 1700, we are in Protocol 10. This is not a drill."
The two senior Leaguers turned to each other, grave expressions upon their faces. "I was beginning to think it was over," Mr. Terrific said. "That it would never happen again."
"But it is," Flash replied. "And we're gonna be ready."
There was a palpable tension aboard Watchtower the entire day. A Protocol 10 hadn't occurred in nearly two months. Everyone was anxious, counting down the minutes. But they were ready. After six prior instances, there was a familiarity and sense of preparedness when confronted by an event of such magnitude.
At 1700 hours, Batman had reserved Training Room A. At 1800 hours, Wonder Woman had the same training room reserved. Everyone in the League knew what that meant. Beginning at 5 o'clock Eastern Standard Time, two of the Founders of the Justice League would be engaging in a full blown training session.
The entire morning and early afternoon, Mr. Terrific, Flash, and Hawkgirl discussed "assignments" with any League member who was interested. That constituted the nearly the entirety of the League and its civilian staff. Most of the assignments involved discussions pertaining to twenty and fifty dollar bills, though a few c-notes were included, too.
Protocol 10 events were discovered by Hawkgirl and Zatanna. While during a shared shift in the monitor womb, the ladies began to discuss their love lives and those of various League members. Naturally, the conversation didn't take long before coming around to the "Will they/Won't they?" surrounding the Bat and the Amazon.
They somehow took notice that Batman and Wonder Woman frequently scheduled training sessions during consecutive periods. Though security footage from all those sessions weren't available, a few were. Both women took special note of how both Batman and Diana entered the training room at the start of his period, and neither left until the end of hers. Reviewing the footage from inside the training room itself, the idea of Protocol 10 was born.
It was amazing to watch. It wasn't simply a sparring session, it was a full blown fight. Only the most ruthless and violent maneuvers and holds were barred. Diana obviously refrained from using her powers, so the fight was long, intense, and savage. It was a clash of styles. Diana's ancient Amazon training, consisting mostly of brute force attacks, against Bruce's eclectic blend of martial arts, a fast, fluid, finesse technique.
After ninety minutes of fierce combat, the fight ended. It was plain to Shayera that they fought in a best-of-five format, with Bruce winning three falls to one. The rest of the period was spent guzzling water and sharing looks that, in the minds of both women, were equal to mentally undressing each other.
It was a simple matter of cross referencing the training room user logs to discover that once every three or four weeks, the pair reserved consecutive blocks. While video records of those times had since been purged, Shayera suspected they followed a similar format as the one she and Zatanna had witnessed. Dubbing their encounters a "Protocol 10" – for no particular reason other than it sounded cool and clever – Shayera decided these events had to be shared with the League at large.
Since their discovery, six Protocol 10 events had occurred. Three followed the format of the encounter she and Zatanna witness. Diana "powered down" and fought Bruce in hand-to-hand combat. Best of five falls won, and twice Batman emerged victorious. The one time Diana won, in a nail biting 3-2 decision now regarded throughout the League as "The Match", she stumbled about the training room, her arms raised in victory, desperately trying to regain her breath. The smile she wore was one of ultimate vindication. Batman merely watched, the barest hint of a wry smile quirking at the corner of his lips.
In the other three matchups, the pair spent the first hour simply working out, doing calisthenics and other exercises. After which, they engaged in fights that quite obviously involved a fully powered Diana.
The first time they witnessed one, Superman nearly rushed to the training room to put a stop to it. But Shayera asked he wait. And to the surprise of all, the mortal human actually lasted ten minutes against a fully powered Amazon. While she was apparently disallowed to use any sort of weapons, Batman was free to use whatever was in his considerable arsenal. Batarangs, smoke grenades, phosphorous grenades, plastic explosives, electric knuckles. Diana finally won via submission, but everyone noticed how she spent the rest of the evening limping.
The second fight went much the same way, and thus ended in similar fashion, though this one lasted an astonishing twenty minutes. Diana forced Batman to submit after it became apparent he depleted his entire arsenal, which included an electrified bullwhip.
The third fight, to the astonishment of all, and by strange dichotomy, the surprise of no one, ended in victory for the Batman. The Dark Knight claimed victory inside sixty seconds. Diana went for a quick submission maneuver, and thus didn't even try to dodge the right hook Batman delivered. That was her first and only mistake of the fight, because when his fist connected with her jaw, a visible puff of green smoke exploded from his glove. Diana dropped like a sack of potatoes, felled by Batman and whatever knockout gas he had conjured.
With each successive event, the crowds, and the betting pool, grew larger. By the sixth fight, the entire Justice League was on alert for a Protocol 10, and nearly everyone appeared on Watchtower to watch the feed piped onto the Monitor Womb screens. There were big winners and big losers. But no matter who raked in cash and who went home with empty pockets, everyone was enthralled by what they saw. Namely the poster children for Unresolved Sexual Tension beating the hell out of each other.
Yes, everyone from the most senior Leaguer to the most junior civilian tech was aware of the dynamic between the two. Flash joked the information was now included in the orientation packet for new employees. "In event of hypothermia," he joked, "place yourself between Wonder Woman and Batman, because the heated gazes they trade would melt a glacier."
In fact, their notorious dynamic led to the inclusion of a few of the most popular "prop bets". Of course, people routinely made a myriad of bets regarding the fights, not simply who would emerge the victor. Some wagered what sort of fight it would be, a falls match or a submission match. Some wagered who would land the first hit. Others how long the fight would last.
Around the third Protocol 10, people began making...other...bets. Would they kiss? Would they make declarations of love? Would one ask the other on a date? Would they rip each other's clothes off and...well, bets of that nature. Anyone who wagered "no" on any of those bets was typically able to salvage their pride, and their wallets, if they picked the loser of the fight.
Shortly after three, Batman teleported aboard Watchtower. Because all aboard were the best of the best, and well trained to boot, none gave any indication this day was any different. Those who were ordinarily frightened to death of Batman cowered in fear, those a little braver actually nodded in greeting, while Flash offered a, "Hey, how's the belfry, Bats?"
Batman glared, but didn't stop to wound him. Instead, he simply retreated to his little used quarters, presumably to await Diana's arrival.
Approximately forty minutes later, Diana arrived. Once more, the crew of Watchtower played things cool. Diana smiled and said her greetings, then disappeared into her own quarters.
When she disappeared, Mr. Terrific tabbed his console, opening a comm link to Hawkgirl. "Ops to Hawkgirl."
"Hawkgirl here."
"Ops is clear. I repeat, Ops is clear."
"Copy that, Ops. Open the coop door. Let our chicks come home to roost."
"Understood, Hawkgirl. Ops out."
With a few keystrokes, he opened a League-wide communications channel labeled "PR-10". Speaking in a loud, clear voice into the microphone, he addressed all but the two League members in question.
"This is Watchtower Ops. In approximately sixty-seven minutes, Protocol 10 will begin. Operations is clear. Queue it up, boys and girls. First come, first serve."
Disconnecting the channel, Mr. Terrific nodded down to the teleportation console, where Flash and Stargirl manned the controls. Within five seconds, the screens began to light up with identification codes of dozens of League members and personnel not already aboard. All were requesting a teleport.
Flash nodded to his colleague. "Okay, Stars, let's do this."
An instant later, the teleporters hummed to life. In a white flash, Black Canary and Green Arrow appeared. She immediately got to business. "Falls match, Batman wins 3-2, Diana with the first hit, seventy-one minutes, and tonight's the night they kiss!"
Green Arrow shook his head and grinned. "Women," he said. "They're all hopeless romantics." He ambled after his girlfriend.
At 4:57 pm, the Watchtower's Monitor Womb was jammed to capacity. The myriad of screens usually reserved for watching various news feeds across the world were now displaying views from the three security cameras located in Training Room A.
One was situated high in a corner furthest from the doors, allowing a panoramic view of the room. A second was placed in the ceiling, dead center of the room, to allow for an overhead shot. The third was the camera placed in the wall terminal, usually only for visual communications, which gave the perspective of an ATM camera or webcam.
The crowd took their seats. Many munched on popcorn or candy and slurped on sodas. Close friends became bitter rivals. Shining Knight had money on Batman to win, while Vigilante was sure the Amazon would emerge victorious. Fire, ever the hopeless romantic, was sure tonight would be the night affections were declared. Ice wagered a twenty they wouldn't. When prompted who he thought would win, Superman became the first reporter in history to use the phrase "No comment."
At 5:01 pm, the training room doors entered. Batman and Wonder Woman stepped inside. A hush settled over the crowd. Even the ever loquacious Flash was silent, as he leaned forward in anticipation and shoveled Milk Duds into his mouth.
There was no audio, so no one knew what Batman said that elicited such laughter in Diana. Whatever it was, even Batman's lip quirked briefly in mirth. The two began to stretch, limbering up for their encounter.
And then Batman removed his cape and utility belt. Half the room erupted into boos and began tossing popcorn and candy at those with the audacity to cheer. Tonight's fight would be a falls match.
But those who lost out on that bet had a chance to redeem themselves. Hawkgirl and Mr. Terrific were at the ready, perched behind their consoles. Dozens of heroes and civilians shouted out, placing new bets. Many jumped on Batman to win, but since they picked him after discovering the type of match to be fought, the payouts for victory wouldn't be as high. Others even broke it down further, picking who would win the first fall and how, either by submission or pining.
The combatants stood ten feet apart. With a deep formal bow, they each acknowledged their opponent, then took their fighting stances.
History indicated the safe bet was on Diana taking the offensive first, and today was no exception. She vaulted at Batman, executing a pair of flawless cartwheels and fluidly moved into a spinning right roundhouse kick. Batman easily blocked with a forearm, and also blocked the left elbow that came an instant later. Her first two attacks stalled, Diana was left open, her back to Batman. He responded by delivering two sharp punches, one to each kidney.
The Monitor Womb exploded again. Batman landed the first punch! Winning bettors cheered and losers jeered.
Diana stumbled away, trying to regain defensive position. But Batman struck quickly, relentlessly, pressing the counterattack. A vicious left cross staggered Diana further, followed by a spinning heel kick to the gut that left her doubled over and gasping for breath.
She tried to deliver a left hook to his ribcage, but Batman rolled with the punch, her fist deflecting off his nomex body armor without any significant damage. Following with his own left, Diana took a sharp crack to her right temple. The blow forced her head down, right into the knee Batman brought up to crash into her face.
Diana stumbled, blood spilling from her cut upper lip – those who picked Batman to draw first blood cheered in victory – and blindly threw a punch in defense. It never came close to landing. Batman slammed his shoulder into her gut, lifting Diana off the floor, then slammed her back onto the mat in a piledrive maneuver. Immobilized for a few moments, her shoulders upon the mat, Batman easily pinned her for the first fall.
Green Lantern cringed at the sight. "Wow. I've never seen Diana go down that fast. I thought she knew better than attack Batman so brazenly."
"She's setting him up," Shayera assured. "Watch this. Diana takes this next fall." She put twenty dollars on it and accepted the flurry of action other bettors shouted.
Batman helped Diana up, and the two separated, again about ten feet apart. With another brief bow, the pair began the second match. And to the astonishment of all, Diana again launched an attack, executing the same cartwheel maneuver.
Batman braced for a spinning kick, but instead of pirouetting, Diana launched into a backflip, somersaulting her foe and landing behind him. Batman spun, arms at the ready to block any attack, but the move left him without sure footing. Diana dropped down and executed a perfect leg sweep, knocking Batman onto his back with a solid thump. In an instant, Diana was straddling his chest, hands around his throat.
Batman stared up at his foe for several moments, obviously contemplating an escape attempt. Everyone aboard the station could imagine the fury slowly building behind that cowl, just as they could imagine the lazy smirk and the twinkling eyes as Diana looked down upon him.
The Batman tapped out.
The audience cheered and jeered. Some threw popcorn at the screen in disgust. Others cheered like their team won the World Series.
"Damn," John said. "I've never seen Batman taken so easily. What's with these two today? They both got taken down by rookie mistakes."
Hawkgirl shrugged. "Those two have been verbally and physically sparring for years. They're like two battle computers who can calculate millions of logical attacks and defenses. But when somebody does something illogical and reckless, it catches them off guard and leads to victory."
Flash, having heard her explanation, frowned, sensing it was familiar. It suddenly occurred to him. "Hey! That's an old Doctor Who serial! Destiny of the Daleks!"
Hawkgirl nodded sagely, chewing on her candy bar. "Loved that man's coat and scarf. Thanks for letting me borrow that DVD, by the way."
"Oh, no problem. I just bought the entire Key to Time season if you're interested."
"Sweet."
On screen, Batman and Wonder Woman took their fighting stances. This time there was no quick attack. The two combatants circled, looking for an opening. True to form, Diana struck first, impatience winning out. A right cross, left hook, and right knee. Batman blocked the punches and sidestepped the knee, then tossed a left jab that connected to Diana's jaw. Not enough to sting, but Diana was forced to step back.
To the wonderment of all, Batman viciously pressed the attack, launching a kickboxing style offensive. Fists, elbows, feet, and knees flew in from all angles with amazing speed and frequency. Diana did her best to deflect, but as sometimes happened when she was forced to depend on technique over brute strength, she found results to be lacking. She began taking as many blows as she blocked, and nearly all watching thought she would wither under the onslaught.
But Diana threw a desperate right uppercut that caught Batman under the jaw. A completely lucky shot, but his attack halted and he fell back, momentarily stunned. Diana pressed, a right cross, then a left. Batman stumbled back, giving Diana enough room for a running start and to nail him center mass with a dropkick.
As Batman hit the floor, Diana rolled back to her feet and launched herself at him. Those who wagered on Batman to win the third fall were screaming foul. She moved too quick not to be using her superpowers on that! Diana supporters disagreed vehemently and promised threats of violence against those who said otherwise.
Moments later, his shoulders were pinned to the floor. Diana took the third fall.
There was sudden influx of bets before the fourth fall. Suddenly Diana was the prohibitive favorite to take the match.
As if agreed upon by some silent accord, the fourth fall quickly proved to have a different styling, one resembling an Olympic Greco-Roman wrestling match. The pair grappled, and Wonder Woman was suddenly wrapped in Batman's arms, her back to his chest. With a quick pop of his hips, Batman executed a flawless suplex, throwing Diana over his shoulders.
Batman pounced, and the pair rolled around on the mat, grappling and countering. When her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands pinned her wrists to the floor above her head, some of the League members began to squirm uncomfortably, while others were becoming more intrigued.
"Should we be letting the kids watch this?" Green Arrow asked.
"Dunno, but I like it!" B'wana Beast exclaimed.
STRIPE turned to his daughter. "Courtney, cover your eyes."
Confused, Courtney started, "Why do I-?"
"I said cover your eyes!"
It only became more awkward when Diana's thighs were suddenly wrapped around Batman's head.
"This counts fer us folks who wagered they'd get it on, right?" Vigilante asked.
Mr. Terrific, Flash, and Hawkgirl exchanged looks. "We'll have to consult the rulebook," Hawkgirl decided. Vigilante grumbled, but didn't press the issue. When the fighting duo once more switched positions, he loudly declared, "Okay, now that ain't even a rasslin' move! They're gettin' it on, or I'm a monkey's uncle!"
Courtney's eyes suddenly widened in realization. "Oh! That's why you don't want me-!"
"Courtney! Keep them closed!"
A few moments later, Batman rolled off Diana, the winner of the fourth fall. Cheers and jeers ensued, along with a flurry of new wagers. A fifth and decisive fall. No matter who a person bet on, all were enthralled. This was gonna be epic.
Dozens called out or submitted their wagers electronically. Mr. Terrific's eyesbrows shot up as he calculated the totals. "This is the most action we've ever seen during a Protocol 10."
On the screen, the two combatants readied for the final fall. They circled, searching for an opening. Like coiled serpents, the pair struck quickly and viciously, coming together in harsh blows—
And then the connection broke. Black and white static filled the screen.
A collective silence befell the room for a moment. Then, boos and jeers the like never heard before. Even the usually reserved and cordial Shining Knight threw his popcorn at the monitor. Vigilante proudly exclaimed, "Now yer learnin', friend!"
Captain Atom rushed to the monitor itself, checking the connections and circuitry. Mr. Terrific frantically worked his computer station, hoping to find some fault that could be corrected. After a few moments, his eyes locked with Captain Atom's. Both heroes shook their heads lightly. Whatever the problem was, they couldn't discern it.
Hawkgirl tried to placate the restless crowd. "Sorry, folks. We seem to be having technical issues."
"Shove your apology!" Black Canary cried. "I have twenty bucks riding on this fall! What do we do about that?"
Hawkgirl honestly didn't have an answer. She looked to Flash. "Consult the rulebook."
Flash zipped from the room one instant and returned the next, a thick binder in hand. A flabbergasted Green Arrow said, "There's actually a rulebook? Get out."
In less than two seconds, Flash speed read through the binder and slammed it shut with a dull thud. All eyes were upon him, waiting to deliver the definitive answer. "There's no specific ruling in the event of technical malfunction," he stated, eliciting groans from the room. "However," he continued, "there is a ruling in the event that a match is interrupted due to emergency or a mission."
"I think that'll suffice for now," Hawkgirl decided.
"According to our rules regarding a falls match, whoever was ahead in falls at the time of the interruption is to be declared the winner, and the appropriate payouts must be issued."
Green Arrow looked around at his teammates and loudly asked of anyone who could answer: "Did we vote on these rules? Was there a company memo? Or is he just making these up as he goes along?"
"Arrow, hush!" Black Canary admonished. "Not all of us are billionaires. I need cash for a new fuel pump." To the three in charge she asked, "So what does that mean?"
Hawkgirl, Flash, and Mr. Terrific conferred briefly. A few moments passed, then Hawkgirl announced, "Well, seeing how the match was tied at two falls apiece, I guess we have no choice but to declare a draw."
"A draw?" Black Canary screamed. "A freakin' draw? Who the hell wagered on a draw? Nobody's gonna win that bet!"
"Be that as it may," Hawkgirl started, but was interrupted by Mr. Terrific.
"Actually," he said, flipping through the list of wagers, "someone did wager on a draw."
"Oh, don't tell me…" Hawkgirl bemoaned.
"Yup," Mr. Terrific said. "Zatanna."
At the mention of her name, Zatanna appeared at the control station, a satisfied grin at her lips. "Call it beginners luck."
Mr. Terrific frowned. "You placed seven different wagers on this fight and won them all."
Zatanna shrugged. "I'm on a hot streak."
Hawkgirl narrowed her eyes. "You've placed wagers at every Protocol 10 event and every time you win big."
"I do well when I visit Vegas, too."
Hawkgirl wasn't sure she bought her explanation. "One would almost get the impression you're in cahoots with Batman and Wonder Woman."
Zatanna was floored by the suggestion. "Pardon me? You think that Batman, let alone Wonder Woman, would partake in gambling or fight fixing? They're practically truth and justice personified!"
Hawkgirl begrudgingly conceded the point. "How much is she owed, Mr. Terrific?"
He mentally calculated the total. "Forty-six hundred dollars."
Shayera felt a headache coming on. Pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to ward it off, she said, "Pay it out."
Grinning, Zatanna held out a perfectly white gloved hand. "I'll take the largest bills you can offer. I feel a shopping trip coming on after I pay rent. Momma needs some new heels."
"Momma's gonna find herself unable to place wagers here anymore," Flash mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Zee."
The Celeste Theatre
Central City, 9:27 pm
It was a solid show, Zatanna thought, replaying the final act in her crystal ball. The whole "rabbit out of the hat" bit was still her go-to close, but even the best of acts needed refreshing.
"Something with razor blades," she mused.
"Isn't that dangerous?" a feminine voice asked.
Zatanna turned and flashed a dazzling smile. "Danger sells, Di. And rent isn't cheap."
Diana smiled and entered the dressing room, followed closely behind by Bruce. Her split lip was still red and sore looking, and Bruce walked with a slight limp, but both appeared none too worse for wear. "One wouldn't think you'd worry about such things anymore."
Zatanna laughed. "I admit, the occasional well placed wager does keep a girl in nylons and pretty clothes. Oh! Speaking of which! Tah raeppa!" Her trademark hat appeared in hand. Reaching in, she produced a stack of bills and handed it over to Diana. "Your half of the winnings."
With a grin, Diana lightly bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. "I thank you. There's a children's hospital in Gateway City that will be receiving gifts for the kids later this week."
"It feels good to do good," Zatanna sagely answered. She pointedly ignored Bruce's scathing derisive snort.
"I appreciate you giving up half your proceeds," Diana said. "I know how tempting a shopping spree can be."
"Oh! Speaking of which, can you guys arrange another fight early next month? Julianna is revealing her summer line of dresses and I want to be in style this season."
"I think that can be arranged." Bruce grumbled, and this time, Diana couldn't ignore him. "What's that, my love?"
"I said it's ridiculous we're going along with this," he moaned. "She's blackmailing us. Must you be so polite to her?"
"Manners cost nothing, my dear," Diana said, lightly kissing his cheek.
"Bruce," Zatanna drawled, "blackmail is such an ugly work. Entirely accurate, but ugly."
Diana nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Besides, if you weren't so dead set on keeping our relationship a secret, she wouldn't have anything to blackmail you, I mean us, with." She smiled sweetly, which only made Bruce grumble even more.
"What I need is a butler who doesn't allow a visitor into my secret underground lair when I'm entertaining another guest."
"If that's how you entertain all your guests, I need to drop by more often."
"Be careful," Diana grinned, "your blackmail material isn't that good." Zatanna returned the grin. Both women were immensely enjoying the way Bruce squirmed. "I have to ask, how did you get the Watchtower surveillance system to crash?"
"I'll happily answer if you tell me what you and Bruce did while the cameras were down."
Diana blushed a fierce shade of red. "Ah. Trade secret. I understand."
Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll be waiting in the car."
Soon as he left, Zatanna said, "I thought he would never leave. Did you bring it?"
Drawing a phone from her pocket, Diana said, "Of course. Though Bruce would be furious if he knew I was doing this."
"If it makes you feel better, if he finds out, you can tell him this was part of the blackmail. No need to tell him we've been sharing this for months."
The women rushed to a couch while Diana withdrew her phone from a jacket pocket and pulled up pictures and even a few videos. Most of which featured a shirtless Bruce undergoing the vigorous daily training he undertook to remain combat ready. A sweaty, shirtless Bruce.
"That's just yummy," Zatanna sighed. Diana hummed agreement. It was really nice to have friends to share special moments with.
THE END
Okay, so here's the deal. I've got an idea for a Batman/WW centric JL fic. It would be a serial, a bit dark at times. Set post-Destroyer and Return of the Joker. A murder mystery at the heart of it, in fact, but with various branches going everywhere. I'm actually hoping someone who reads this story is a beta reader or knows a beta reader who is good with JL. I would even appreciate someone who would work on story breaking with me. If anyone is interested or knows someone who I might talk to, please, pm me. Oh! And review this story, too, please!
And isn't the Protocol 10 reference a bit obvious?