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Darkest Knight	By : SteelMagnolia Category: DC Verse Comics > Justice League Views: 18860 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League, or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3 - The Drive

*****

Bruce watched from the window as Diana alighted on the front lawn of the estate. The manor’s defenses had picked her up a few minutes before, giving him a chance to finish some last-minute updates with Dick. He scowled. Dick had offered to patrol the following week as well.

He shouldn’t have called her back, damn it. It would have been kinder just to drop it last week. He shifted uncomfortably. What had he been thinking? The relative anonymity of the phone and the warmth of her voice had lulled him. Some of the things he had revealed... And let’s not forget that you spent the morning after fantasizing about her rather than sleeping.

He watched Diana smooth down her wind-blown hair and snorted. Like tousled didn’t look good on her.

She had obviously taken his instructions to dress casually to heart, wearing low-cut jeans that hugged her curves and a cotton blouse that ended somewhere around her navel. They would be standing eye-to-eye with her in those boots. Christ, she looks like a teenager. He ignored the very male part of him that whispered he could never mistake her for anything but a woman.

He moved away from the window when she strode out of sight. A few moments later the bell rang and he heard Alfred answer the door. Diana’s voice was rich and vibrant but he could hear the undercurrent of nervousness.

Good. She should be nervous. Bruce was going to fix things. Permanently. And he had to do it without raising her suspicions.

He waited until he heard them move into the main foyer before coming down the sweeping staircase. As Batman he would have swooped down like an avenging angel. Bruce Wayne paused on the stairs like a debutante.

He saw the welcoming smile light up Diana’s face as he approached her. For a moment he almost wished things could be different. He could just relax and enjoy spendin unc uncomplicated evening with a beautiful, intelligent woman. They would enjoy talking over dinner, then maybe go dancing again. He might even kiss her goodnight after securing the next date.

He pushed temptation away and gave her one of Bruce Wayne’s best smiles.

“Diana,” he said, “you look ravishing.” He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, brushing the soft skin with his lips, inhaling the scent of her. He let his lips linger a moment too long for decency. “Good enough to eat,” he murmured, lowering her hand and tucking it in his elbow when she would have pulled away.

“Thank you,” she said, but the faint tension around her eyes told him it was merely politeness.

He ignored the look of mild reproof Alfred gave him over Diana’s shoulder and led her down the hallway toward the kitchen suite. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave the tour of the manor for another time,” he said, leaning his head toward her as if to share an intimate secret. “I’ve made reservations for us at Avalon.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred began, “Perhaps you would like to dress for dinner. We have an assortment of eveningwear that I am sure Miss Diana would…”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bruce interrupted with a careless wave of his hand. “I’m sure they won’t mind.” And maybe the notoriously snobby restaurant would make things uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough to help set up his endgame later.

He ignored the heat in his blood that had been building all week. It wasn’t personal. He had a job to do.

He sailed into the garage with Diana in tow. He led her past his fleet of luxury cars, heading for the Boxster, when she suddenly dug in her heels.

“Oh,” she breathed. He turned to see which of his beauties had caught her eye. The Ferrari? The Mercedes? Ah. The 1947 Triumph roadster.

Diana bent over the sleek metallic gray convertible, almost but not quite touching it with her fingertips as she admired the shine of the curving fenders. She walked slowly around the car, murmuring to it like an old lover. When she turned to face him he was struck by the radiance of her face.

“It is more beautiful than I remembered,” she said.

“She’s a classic,” he agreed. “From 0 to 50 in 15 seconds. Top speed around 80mph. The body was made out of an aluminum alloy, exceptionally lightweight for the time.”

“Steve had one,” she said softly. “He loved that car.”

“Want to take her for a spin?” he asked, unable to stop himself. Diana looked at him, startled. Just a short drive to get her guard down. It might make being the bastard that much more effective. He shrugged and moved to the driver’s door, opening it with a flourish. “Come on, get in,” he said.

She looked at the car a moment, longing and temptation obvious on her face. “I do not know how to drive,” she finally admitted.

“What?” he said, blinking in honest shock.

“I never learned,” she confessed.

“You’ve lived in this country for over 60 years, and you’ve never driven a car,” he clarified slowly.

“I lived in the city,” she explained, “and Steve always drove whenever the Army sent us somewhere. Later, I just flew.” A faint blush stained her cheeks.

“Well, it’s time to rectify that,” he said.

He thought of four very good reasons not to deviate from the plan as he reached for the intercom. He stared at the wall and thought of three more while waiting for Alfred to answer. Okay, so this would be Plan B. The venue was changing, that was all. No happily-ever-after here.

“Alfred,” he said, “would you mind packing us shinghing for dinner? We’re going for a drive. Oh, and call Avalon, would you?”

Three hours later Bruce couldn’t suppress a grin at the exhilaration on Diana’s face. The wind whipped through her long hair and her eyes gleamed with excitement in the twilight. Like sable, he thought to himself. And sapphires. He frowned. Where the hell had that come from?

They drove along the countryside back toward Gotham. The little farm road was all gentle hills and curves, lined with fields and farmhouses. Cows dozed or tried to reach the grass alongside the road, stretching their necks through the fences.

Diana had taken to driving as she did most things, with her characteristic grace and coordination. I can’t believe she’s never driven before, Bruce mused. Maybe she exaggerated a bit. You know, just to make herself look a bit better. No, he decided. She wouldn’t do that. I don’t think she can. He looked away, disturbed by the fact that he liked that about her.

He liked a lot of things about her. Too bad he was going to fuck it up in about thirty minutes.

*****

Diana glanced over at Bruce. He was looking out over the darkening fields, his face in profile. The wind of their passage ruffled his short dark hair and made the collar of his shirt flap against his neck. A slight frown marred his features, tightening his mouth in a grim line. She wondered what he was thinking, but decided perhaps it was better not to ask.

I do not understand him, she thought to herself. He payed her insult and then did something kind. He was the gusting wind, blowing one way and then that, and just as impossible to predict.

She had enjoyed their drive. Being in the Triumph had brought back fond memories of her early times in Patriarch’s world. She had been so idealistic and naïve of the ways of men. I suppose not much has changed, she thought with a wry smile. It is still difficult to understand the unwritten rules of this society. Perhaps I have kept myself too separate from the common people since Steve died.

She had been alone for so long, drifting with the winds between Themyscira and Patriarch’s world. She was no longer the naïve princess who thought she could single-handedly save the world from evil. And yet she looked at the millennia of her mother’s rule and wondered how she would ever gain enough wisdom to lead her sisters when it was her mother’s fortune to fall in battle.

She had been tempted to share these feelings with Bruce, but something about him made her hesitate. Perhaps it was her Themysciran heritage of betrayal at the hands of man. Perhaps it was his inconstant demeanor. She sensed he was hiding something from her.

Since the auction Bruce had proven himself more intelligent than he first appeared. Their conversations had revealed a surprising depth and breadth to his knowledge. She wondered why he chose to present himself to the world as he did. The man who had taught her to drive tonight was much more fascinating. And attractive.

Diana had found herself watching his lips as they talked. It had been a long time since she had wondered what a man’s mouth would feel like against hers. Not since Steve. A pang of distant sadness was tempered by happier memories of her first love.

Steve Trevor had been the first man she had ever seen in the flesh. Handsome, valiant, and true, he had captured her heart and taught her that there was more to men than betrayal, lust, and breeding. She still treasured every moment she had been able to spend with him. The only thing that marred his memory was the fact that she had deceived him for so long. She had not trusted him with her true identity until the bitter end, and it had cost them precious time together. Since then she had applied herself to find the spirit of truth, not just the words.

Which was the true Bruce Wayne? The man who had lied to her last week and took liberties with her person, or the witty, fascinating man who had accompanied her this evening?

Upon leaving the grounds of his stately manor, Bruce had driven them out of the city until they reached the back roads. Then he had displayed incredible patience and good humor while instructing her on the myriad aspects of operating the vehicle safely.

Once she felt in control of the car he had guided her north of the city to a small beach. Diana had enjoyed the sound of the breaking waves and the feel of sand under her bare feet. She had offered to bear the wicker basket that Alfred had packed, but Bruce had insisted on carrying it despite her obviously superior strength. Men and their egos.

They had eaten their repast on a convenient piece of driftwood. The simple meal of breads, fruits, and cheeses reminded Diana of home, prompting her to reminisce about Themyscira. In return he had shared some amusing stories of his childhood.

It was obvious that he cherished the memories of his parents. His voice had been expressive, reminding her of their conversation the previous week. He had been surprisingly easy to talk to on the phone, which she normally abhorred. She had found herself sharing memories that she had not confronted in decades.e sue suspected that he had revealed rather more than he’d intended as well. Perhaps that explained his odd behavior.

“Turn here,” Bruce said, breaking her contemplation. She eased the Triumph onto a small dirt road that led up a hill. Tall dark trees closed in on either side, blocking the night sky. She could see from the state of the road that it had not been traveled in months. “Private property,” he said in response to her questioning look. “Mine.”

The road crested the hill into a small clearing. Diana gently braked the car to a stop. “Oh my,” she said softly, looking out the front windscreen.

They overlooked Gotham City, which sparkled with a million points of light stretching across the horizon. Stars blinked like pale imitations in the black sky while the bulbous moon hung low on the horizon. Diana smiled in pure pleasure. She had seen countless cities from the night sky, but this was different. She wasn’t flying to or from some crisis, tired and aching for her bed. She was enjoying the car, the drive, the gentle breeze. The company, she admitted to herself.

She looked at Bruce, wanting to share this moment with him. He was staring out the windscreen with an inscrutable look.

“Is it not beautiful?” she said. “Like stardust cast upon the ocean.”

“Yes,” he agreed, finally looking at her. She waited a moment, but he did not speak further and turned back to the view.

They sat for a while, watching the distant city lights. Diana was acutely aware of the man beside her. She could almost smell the heat of his male body. Her nostrils flared. No cologne, no aftershave. Bruce shifted restlessly in his seat.

“Christ but you need a keeper, Diana,” he said roughly. “Don’t you have any survival instincts at all?”

“I beg your pardon,” she said, sitting upright in her seat. Offense stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I do not understand.”

“Even a fifteen year-old would understand,” he growled, reaching for her. She withdrew reflexively at his sudden movement.

She watched in fascination as his hand paused, theacheached out more gently to stroke her dark hair. The heat of his hand seared her flesh through the thin cotton of her blouse, the backs of his fingers blazing a trail of fire where her hair fell over her breast.

I recognize this. He wishes to kiss me. Her heart began to pound in her st ast as if in battle. She wanted to kiss him as well. She wanted to feel that firm mouth against her own. Feel the heat of his breath on her lips, not her hand.

Bruce snaked his fingers through her hair and pulled her gently toward him. Diana went willingly, held by his dark gaze. She would have laid her lips on his but he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. He murmured something intelligible and slid his hand deeper into her hair, cupping the back of her head. When he lifted his face his hot gaze ignited a fire deep in her belly.

He brushed his mouth softly over hers. His warm breath mingled with hers as he lingered, exploring the curve of her lips. Her breath came faster as his mouth became more hungry and insistent, rubbing across her lips in invitation. Diana touched his jaw and melted against him, meeting him with a hunger of her own.

He groaned deep in his throat when her lips parted beneath his, and his hand tightened in her hair, pulling her closer as his other hand cupped her cheek. He took her mouth, nipping at her before delving deep inside. His mouth was hard against hers, his lips firm as he demanded her passionate response.

The molten heat pouring through her body overwhelmed Diana. It speared from her mouth to her breasts and loins like a thunderbolt from Olympus itself. Steve had been a kind and gentle man with a gentle touch. He had never kissed her with such need that it was a siren’s song in her blood.

Bruce devoured her, holding her still for his pursuit as he took her mouth with deepening strokes. She gasped against his mouth and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, feeling his hard chest beneath. She found herself arching toward him, seeking something more. Her body felt hot and heavy and restless, and she couldn’t catch her breath with the heat of him so close.

She pulled her mouth from his, breathing heavily. He ran hismb amb across her swollen lips before he turned her face and raked his teeth along her jaw. Sparks of pleasure jumped through her as his fingertips caressed her lips and his mouth opened against her neck. He closed his teeth on the graceful muscle there, sending a shiver through her body. Her hands clung to his shoulders, delighting in the firm muscle there, trying to pull his body closer, trying to reach the man beneath the clothing.

*****

Diana’s touch on the bare skin of his shoulder forced Bruce to his senses. He snatched her hand from inside his shirt. Two inches more and he would have had to explain a few things. He caught her mouth in a hard kiss to buy himself some time. He was painfully hard and throbbing, but he had a job to do. And this was not in the plan.
The feel of her soft mouth under his threatened to suck him back under. He couldn’t keep from indulging himself one last moment, taking her mouth as he longed to bury himself in her body. He felt her moan and melt beneath him and a stab of purely male satisfaction brought him to the edge of his self-control.

She was everything he couldn’t be – pure, honest, and open. She belonged in the light that cast the very shadows he dwelled in.

He’s always respected her as a warrior. Now he wanted her as a woman.

Gathering his will, he pushed her away slightly so that he could see her face. Her eyes were dark and heavy-lidded with arousal, her lips swollen and parted.

“I have condoms and a blanket in the trunk,” he told her.

“What?” she said.

“Condoms and a blanket. You know, safe sex?” He let the bastard in him rake her with a cold smile. “Unless Amazons have other ways that you’d like to teach me.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, confusion beginning to overshadow arousal on her face.

“What, do Amazons call imethmething else?” he pressed. “You know. Intercourse. Sex. Making the two-backed monster. Doing it. Humping.” He watched her stiffen in the light of the moon. “Fucking,” he added goodgood measure.

Her body was rigid. He pulled at her hand but she didn’t move. “Come on, Diana,” he said coaxingly. “We had a good time tonight, didn’t we? This will be good too. You know it would be so good between us.” He lowered his voice. “I know what you need. I’ll make it so good for you.”

She stared at him with an unreadable expression. He pulled at her again, harder and more insistent, and he thought she wavered. He pressed her hand against his hard erection. “You were trying to crawl in my lap just a moment ago. You can’t tell me you don’t want this.” The feel of her hand, even unwilling, was enough to roughen his voice. “What did you think you were looking for?”

Diana snatched her hand from under his with narrowed eyes and pushed him away, hard enough that he slammed against the passenger door.

“I do not want this,” Diana said. He could hear the undercurrent of hurt in her voice. Good.

“What?” he demanded. “I thought you were all about truth and honesty. I’m just trying to be honest with you here. What did you think tonight was all about?”

“I thought you wanted to spend time with me,” she said.

“I do, Diana. I like being with you,” Bruce said, ignoring the truth of his words. “But it’s a two-way street. You like talking, so we talked. Now it’s my turn.”

“I like kissing you,” she admitted, “but I do not want to have intercourse with you. Why can we not just kiss?” she asked, moving closer to him.

Endgame. It was time to fix things permanently, with no chance for reconciliation.

“Teasing bitch,” he growled. Quick as a snake he shot his hand out and buried it in the collar of her blouse. He pulled her to him and crushed her mouth under his in an angry and painful kiss. Steeling himself, he didn’t let go of her shirt when she pulled back.

Superstrength met iron will and the blouse lost. He felt it give and pulled, managing to keep hold of one side of her shirt as the buttons popped from the strain. He didn’t let go even when she sat back, half stripping the blouse from her bare torso.

Her body was pale sculpted marble in the moonlight, her breasts high and firm and smooth. Heat slammed into him in response. He wanted to feel her under his hands, his body.

She caught his wrist in her hand, grinding the bones together painfully in her grip. To his surprise her face was twisted with both anger and hot desire. The heat in his groin blazed into an inferno, making him groan in response. He felt his lips pull back in a savage grin.

“You like it rough?” he said hoarsely. “I can do rough. Just tell me how bad you want it.”

He used his words like a splash of cold water and she withdrew in shock. He didn’t think she’d even noticed that he’d let go of her shirt as she flew off the seat to hover over the car.

“I do not wish this,” she said. She looked down at him, and the shame on her face made him want to reach for her. He kept his hands to himself and his mouth firmly shut.

“Bruce,” she began, settling back down to stand next to the driver’s door, “I…”

Behind her a column of flame erupted into the night sky above the city. The rumble of the explosion reached them moments later.

“The docks,” he said, but she had already taken flight. He saw her tie the remnants of her blouse beneath her breasts, then she streaked away. He gave her twenty seconds to get out of hearing range before he pulled out his phone.

“I’m on the ridge,” he told Alfred. “Send the Batwing.”

*****
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Darkest Knight