DISCLAIMER: The Justice League of America
characters are the property of DC Comics. The story contents are the creation
and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2006 by Djinn. This story is Rated
PG-13.
Stakeout
by Djinn
The night wore on, a light breeze
rolling in from San Francisco Bay. Bruce
muffled a groan as his leg began to cramp.
"This is what you do,
Bruce? Night after night? Crouch in the shadows on some
rooftop?" Diana's leg must have
been cramping, too, because she stretched out, lying on her side, head propped
up as if they were at a teenage slumber party.
Bruce wondered if she had any idea what that position did to her breasts. Wondrous did not begin to cover it.
She smiled at him. Her innocent, "I have no idea what my
dazzling white teeth surrounded by these lips does to men" smile. Or maybe she practiced it in the mirror? He wouldn't put it past her. She'd probably view it as just another form
of warfare. She loved to go all whup-ass
when she could, but she was also a master tactician, and there were times when
seduction was more efficient than beating the crap out of someone.
"I prefer a more direct
form of crime-fighting," she said.
"No kidding?"
"Oh, like you don't
enjoy watching me go to town?" She
shifted, leaning in. Everything came
closer.
He sighed happily. Sure, they were on a shit-hole roof in a
strange city. But he was crouching in
the shadows with her. He imagined there
were a ton of men who'd change places with him.
And a lot of women, too. Women
who'd never even thought of being gay--Diana had that effect on people.
Not that Bruce had ever
thought about Diana with another woman.
Another woman like say Hawkgirl.
Or maybe Black Canary. With him
in the room. On the bed. The center of their considerable attention.
"Earth to Batman."
Visions of Diana and Dinah
crashed as he forced himself back to a not-so-friendly world. "I'm here."
She leaned in. "Are you blushing?"
Damn. Could she see in the dark? He knew she could, but that well? That kind of night vision could make
navigating under the sheets pretty sweet.
"Bruce?"
He forced his mind out of the
nasty place. Bad mind! Stay out of the gutter.
Diana is not a sex toy.
By her look, he realized he'd
just said that out loud.
She started to laugh. "What is it
about me? It's as if you look at me and immediately
start fantasizing. By 'you' I mean
anyone within twenty feet." She
shook her head, as if this was a very hard math problem.
"Diana, you do own a
mirror, right?"
"Yes."
Good--his "practicing
the smile offense" theorem still worked.
"But so what? I'm not that pretty. Not when compared to some of my sisters back
on Themyscira."
"Well, we're not on
Themyscira."
"I know, but there are
plenty of beautiful women on this continent, too."
"Yes, but they aren't
running around in a skimpy uniform kicking bad-guy butt."
"True." She looked down and seemed to realize what was
happening with her cleavage, because she sat up really fast. "Do you think this is skimpy?"
"Compared to
what?" He was bombarded with teen
fashion every time Tim brought some of his female friends around. Diana's get-up was positively modest--it
wasn't her fault her figure could turn any outfit into a seduction fantasy. He imagined her in a habit. Yep, still sexy.
"So, you do think it's
skimpy?"
"Well, it's less skimpy
than those dress things you wear back on Themyscira. The ones with no underwear."
She raised an eyebrow.
Oh, shit. He'd never actually been on Themyscira with
her when she wore one. With no
underwear.
The nasty place was calling
again.
"Are you spying on
me?"
"As if." Teen lingo was pretty damn handy. Snaps to Tim for keeping him current.
She just smiled. "Bruce, I can think of ten women on the
island who are prettier than I am."
"Only ten? Out of how many? You think pretty highly of yourself, don't
you, Princess?"
She glared at him. Even a glare was sexy on her. "It's not a scientific assessment, and I
was thinking of those I know the best."
She looked over at their subject's apartment window in an obvious ploy
to change the subject. "Does he do
anything but watch TV?"
Bruce glanced back. "He's scratched himself a couple of
times. And that's his third refill of
Mountain Dew."
"My mistake. So...what do I do when I'm lounging around
Themyscira with no underwear?"
He hadn't expected her to
return to the subject. That kind of
unpredictability was what made her such a tough opponent. She zigged when he thought she'd zag.
"You want a
rundown?" At her nod, he said, "Well,
you ride horses--doesn't that hurt?"
Another glare.
"You eat. A lot.
You study and swim and sleep."
She also touched herself while murmuring his name. But that part was just in the fantasy version
that ran in his head disturbingly often.
"You're blushing
again."
"Am not."
"Are, too." She stretched out, giving him another great
boob shot. And he knew she knew what she
was doing. He also knew she knew he knew
that, too. And she knew that--no, that
last one was enough.
"What do you think about
when you look at them?"
"At...them?" He gestured at her boobs.
"No. At the people you watch?" But her smile was a sneaky one. Like no matter what he'd answered, she would
have gone the other way.
"I don't think. I just watch."
"You just watch? For hours?
No thinking for the Batman?"
She inched a little closer.
"Watch out for
splinters, Princess."
"I'm a trained
warrior. A splinter won't stop
me." She moved closer still. "Besides, you'd get it out for me,
wouldn't you?"
With his teeth, if she asked
him to.
She was close enough for him
to reach out and touch them--err, her.
He backed up a bit farther into the shadows.
"Scared?"
"Terrified." He tried to load massive amounts of
Batman-enabled scorn into his voice. It
was always option one in difficult situations.
He didn't do a very good job, though.
She sat up. "Are you?"
"Am I what?" When in doubt, go with option two: playing
dumb. A tried and true method of males
everywhere.
"Afraid of me?"
"Why would I be afraid
of you?" Option three came into
play: answering a question with another question.
"Because you want
me."
"You just said that
everyone wants you. If everyone wants
you and I'm part of everyone, then ergo I must want you." Option four:
logic.
"Ergo?"
"Ergo." He shrugged.
As if the discussion was over.
Option five: the graceful exit.
"So, you do want
me?" Diana did not, apparently,
recognize option five.
"I just said so. End of story."
"But with you it's different."
"And why is that?"
"Because I want you,
too."
He swallowed so hard the Bay
Area earthquake detectors probably registered it as a seismic event.
"What do you think of
that?" She rolled to her back,
putting her arms behind her head as she stared up at the stars.
Think? He was pretty far from thought. He was so deep in fantasy-ville he wasn't
sure he'd ever dig himself out.
"Very funny, Diana." It
was the best he could do.
"You think I'm teasing
you?"
"You tease Clark all the
time."
"Well, sure. He's spoken for. It's all in good fun." She glanced at him. "He's a really good kisser, by the
way."
"I know."
Her eyebrows rose so fast
they looked like they might achieve liftoff.
"Lois told me."
"Oh. I thought we were going to go to a much more
interesting place." Then she
frowned. "Why would she tell you
something like that?"
He let a Bat-smirk be his
answer.
"Fine. Forget I said anything."
As if. He'd be replaying her words for like ever.
"After all, you're
probably quite happy cuddling up with Slutwoman."
"You mean
Catwoman?"
"Isn't that what I
said?" She actually batted her
eyelashes at him. He hadn't realized she
could even do that. She just had to be
practicing this stuff.
"Maybe I misunderstood.
Your accent and all." He grinned at
her. She'd gotten rid of her accent a
long time ago, probably when she was practicing "Amazon Tactics Addendum
One: Seducing the Enemy."
"I guess curling up with
her would be all right. If you don't
mind fleas."
He started to laugh. That was too low for her to be anything but
seriously pissed at him. "I'm
Batman. Fleas fear me."
"Right." She rolled over, taking away the cleavage and
replacing it with her amazing tush. Men
would willingly write epic poems to an ass like that. Hell, he could think of one right now. Or maybe a limerick, anyway. There once was a girl named Diana--
"Do you think Catwoman's
pretty?" she asked.
Just as well. Devil to rhyme anything with her name. "Everyone thinks she is."
"I don't."
"You haven't even met
her."
She rolled back over. "I've seen pictures."
"Pictures don't do her
justice. She has a certain spirit that
only translates live." Was it bad
and wrong to say he fantasized about Selina, too? He didn't tend to include anyone else with her,
however. She was too bad tempered to try
that kind of stuff with.
Not that Diana was the poster
child for mellow.
Diana, who was being very
quiet.
"You still there?"
he asked gently.
"Yes."
"Now you're mad."
"Am not." He heard the sound of shingles being ripped
up by Amazon fingernails.
"No?"
"No."
A silence fell, and Bruce
looked over at their subject, who had fallen asleep on the couch. The glow of the TV lit him in kind of a weird
tableau effect.
Diana sat up suddenly. "You don't need me here for
this."
He could tell she was about
to launch. "Don't go." He reached out, touched her leg. Her very warm, very soft leg. He'd imagined her legs around him, crushing
him--but in a good way, not in a "smoosh you like a bug" way.
"But you don't need me
here, do you?" She jerked her leg
away.
"You're right. I don't.
But I do want you here. So, why
don't you sit back down?"
With an Amazon-sized sigh,
she sat down. "I don't know why I
even try with you."
"Charm. Wit.
Lots and lots of cash."
She laughed--despite herself
from the way she cut it off. "You
forgot your happy-go-lucky personality."
"That, too." This time, he inched closer to her. "Well, and I am very, very
handsome."
"Egomaniac."
"Yes, that's another of
my fabulous traits." He moved close
enough for his leg to press up against hers.
It was a fabulous feeling.
"So, you were serious? You
weren't just teasing me?"
"Why would I tease
you? Who in their right mind would tease
you?"
"You show a certain lack
of fear where I'm concerned." It
was, in fact, why he liked hanging around her.
She never seemed afraid he'd go all Batman on her.
"It's bravado. You terrify me." She sounded serious.
"Batman terrifies
you? Or Bruce Wayne does?"
"Yes." Diana must be operating under his difficult discussion
rules. She'd just tried option six: the
non-answer.
He let her non-answer swing
in the wind, waiting with Bat-patience for her to burst out with more.
Amazons, it turned out, could
outwait a Batman. Good to know. His brain would no doubt incorporate that
into a fantasy.
"Have you ever...?"
he finally asked.
"Of course I have."
Damn. There went all his "Introduce
Diana to sex" fantasies.
"With women, but I
have."
His fantasies came roaring
back with supercollider force.
"Oh," he managed to squeak out.
"I didn't say I wanted
to have sex with you."
"You said you wanted me,
Diana. Sex is implied."
"Maybe I want you for
conversation?"
"For that we use the all
purpose 'I really like you...as a friend' approach. And I think you know this."
He was pretty sure she stuck
her tongue out at him. "So
you've...thought about it? With me, I
mean?" He really didn't want to
hear a detailed account of how she'd envisioned a three-way with Flash and
Lantern.
Or J'onn. Who could be whoever you wanted him to
be. Bruce was pretty sure they'd all
thought about that at one time or another.
Would it make you gay if you were doing a guy who was, for all intents
and purposes, female at the time?
Diana shifted, and her leg pressing
harder against his brought him back to the real issue.
"Have you thought about
being with me?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Was I...good in these
fantasies?" He kept his voice
light. He thought that was important for
them. That they keep it fun, the way
their earlier banter had been.
She laughed softly. "Yes.
But then...what the hell would I know?"
"True." He realized he was sweating just about every
place a man wearing a suddenly very hot uniform could sweat. His heart was racing, and his vision had gone
a little funny.
Simply talking about sex with
her made him nervous. And he was the
freakin' Batman. A normal person
probably would have died of heart failure by now.
"When you did it the
other times. With the women"--his
mind took a salacious turn down Naughty Street--"you were close to. Did you enjoy it?"
"If you'd ever had an
Amazon doing her utmost to give you pleasure, you wouldn't ask me that,
Bruce."
"Toots, I fantasize
about that nightly."
Oh, shit. He'd said that inner comment out loud,
hadn't he?
She mock-punched him. "It's very enjoyable," she said,
sounding more than a little smug.
"I'm sure it is." He felt like he was a teenager again. Awkward and unsure what to do. In the fashion of boys everywhere, he went
for the "stretch and land."
His arm fell a little too heavily on her shoulder, but she was meta--she
could take it.
She started to laugh. "I saw that move once. On a television show."
Damn this modern age! Giving away men's trusted secrets.
"It's very effective
when done by a superhero."
He decided he could forgive
the modern age. "Is it?"
She leaned into him, and he
got a better hold on her. He would not,
under any circumstances, go for the "drop and grope."
"There was this other
move--are you going to try that?" she asked.
"Did it involve
breasts?"
"Why, yes, I believe it
did."
"Very bad tactics. Premature.
Sure sign of a rank amateur."
He pulled his hand up a little.
"The girl had some
moves, too. In this show I watched..."
"She did?" He hadn't meant to put quite that much
interest in his voice.
"Mmmm-huh." She leaned in again, turning toward him,
putting her hand on his thigh.
Oh, sweet mother of all that
was holy, Diana's hand was on his thigh.
And moving.
Up.
If the Earth exploded right
at this moment, he'd die an ecstatic man.
"Diana, why don't we
adjourn to the mansion?"
"That would be lovely
but we have a job to do." She
started to lift her hand from his thigh, but he slammed it back down, so she
pointed with her other one toward the guy sleeping happily on his couch. "What did he do, anyway, to deserve your
interest?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not that I know
of." He was grinning.
"He's not a
criminal?"
"No. But this is a great rooftop for a quiet chat,
don't you think?"
"You asked me here so we
could...talk? Because you wanted to
spend time with me?"
"I did." Option seven:
honesty.
"Then I'm really glad
that I wanted you before I found out.
Because I'd hate to fall for a lame ploy like this." She sounded very pleased with him, though.
"I agree: that would
suck." So the wrong word to use at
this moment. Parts of his brain started
to merrily process all the ways suck might apply to their current situation.
While he was still capable of
higher thought, he pulled her to him and kissed her as tenderly as he knew
how. She kissed him back the same way,
and the wayward bits came swarming back to brain central so they could enjoy
the show, too.
He eased away enough to say,
"Wow."
"That, by the way,
wasn't my utmost." She kissed his
cheek, moving toward his ear, biting down gently--every nerve ending he had was
now centered in his ear.
"No?" It hadn't been his utmost, either. But unlike her, he didn't tend to brag before
a skirmish.
"Can we go
now?" She managed to stand up
without letting go--or seeming to lose any points of contact. Meta was definitely the way to go
His arms were already around
her, so he just tightened his grip as she lifted off. He looked over at the complete stranger, who
had woken up and was rubbing his eyes blearily.
"I'm going to give his kid a trust fund or something."
Diana laughed and kissed him
as she flew them toward Gotham. He was
about to warn her to watch for low-flying craft, but then she turned the
utmost-meter up, and he decided she was a big girl and could get them there
without his help.
Besides, he'd have plenty of
opportunity to help later.
FIN