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Oathbound	By : rubicon541 Category: DC Verse Comics > Wonder Woman Views: 145725 -:- Recommendations : 7 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Wonder Woman or any aspect of DC comics. I am making no money from this. I neither own nor control the fandom surrounding Wonder Woman. This is a work of fantasy. Real life does not and should not work like this.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
WONDER WOMAN
OATHBOUND
by
Rubicon Cross
Chapter Five

We didn't get a lot of sleep Friday night. There's no shock there -- I certainly wasn't in a rush to fall asleep and Diana said she could stay awake for a week without much problem if necessary. Between that and her ability to bypass the male refractory period -- and lend a certain amount of stamina for lovemaking -- there was a lot of reason to stay awake.
But I was, in the end, still mortal, and needed at least a few hours. And regardless of Diana's powers I was sore and a touch chafed when I woke up at seven in the morning. Why so early, given everything? I'm not sure. Probably my body wanted to have the absolute minimum amount of sleep I needed, to get every waking moment with Diana that I could.
But we didn't immediately set back to it. I needed some time to process everything, and I know Diana needed it too. So, after a quick shower -- separately, as I didn't want the shower to turn into the morning's event -- we got dressed to head out, for breakfast and shopping.
Why shopping? Mostly because Diana didn't have very much with her. As I mentioned before, she'd shown up with her uniform, that amazingly sexy red Amazon toga, white sports bra and utilitarian panties, a white tee shirt and grey sweatpants. She had assumed I would simply keep her in all weekend, after all.
But I wanted more than that.
So, she skinned into the underwear, tee shirt and sweats, which were as close to formless as I think could go over that body. She still looked amazing, of course, but still. She looked like she was doing her laundry. We locked the lariat in the same safe as her uniform. She wore her Amazonian slippers -- it was that or the boots from her uniform, and I wanted to avoid the uniform as much as possible -- and we went out for pancakes at IHOP. She took one of the spare silk scarves I used to cover up her bracers and used it as a hair kerchief, pulling the hair back into a ponytail, and as amazing as it sounds, that was all it took to make Wonder Woman, the most famous, most beautiful of the female superheroes, into an anonymous breakfast patron.
"I can't believe no one's recognized you," I murmured. We were sitting opposite each other in a booth. The waitress had filled coffee cups for us and left the usual carafe, and we were looking over the menus.
"I can," she said, softly. "You'd be surprised how much context matters. One of the advantages of wearing the armor equivalent of a swimsuit is people remember it... and associate you with it. No one expects me to be ordering breakfast in a greasy spoon, and no one expects me to be... well...."
"Clothed?"
She colored slightly. "Something like that." She pursed her lips. "I still think I should have worn my uniform underneath this."
"I told you last night. You're not... that person... with me." There wasn't anyone near us, but I was new to this lifestyle, and it seemed safest to keep the name 'Wonder Woman' outside of conversation.
"I know," she said softly, half-smiling. It faded then, as she looked more serious. "And when we're in your apartment during these weekends I fully accept that. But we've gone outside now, and if someone needs my help I'm going to help them. You don't get to stop that."
"I wouldn't ask to," I said, though it seemed like a remote enough possibility. Keystone City wasn't known for its high crime rate to begin with, and the local hero was the Flash -- and one of the nice things about having the fastest man alive on the police department's speed dial was rapid response, to say the least.
"Good. It's not negotiable. The oath doesn't let you stop me from helping others." Her chin went up slightly. "I would not have sworn an oath that did, even if it meant hurting my allies."
"I know," I said again, flushing a touch. "That's why I didn't ask." There was tension then. We had made a lot of progress, and I knew Diana had gotten a lot out of our time together... but the coercion involved in getting her to swear the oath still hung between us. It would for a long time, I knew. Maybe for the rest of my life. Diana, of course, was immortal.
"So I should have worn my uniform," she said, picking the conversation back up. "No one would have seen it, and it has certain... properties... that make it simple to emerge when needed."
"It would have made a difference," I said. "In your bearing. In your understanding."
"Have you decided?" The waitress hadn't been close enough to hear, and was pretty good about announcing herself as she approached.
"I believe so," Diana said, giving her a warm smile. "But it depends. Are the fruit compote pancakes truly guaranteed to be 'Rooty Tooty?' I would hate to be disappointed."
The local mall had the usual assortment of department stores and women's clothing boutiques you'd expect. I suggested a couple of stores Diana vetoed for moral reasons -- as it turns out, Diana's acutely aware of things like sweatshop labor conditions. But that still left plenty of places to shop.
"Why are we doing this again?" Diana asked, as we looked over a rack of blouses.
"Because you should have clothes to wear when we go out," I said, considering a royal blue ribbed sweater.
"I do own civilian clothes," she said, considering some off-white button downs. "I'll know to bring them, next time."
"I know -- but maybe the idea that you have some clothes at my place -- that you only wear on these weekends -- appeals a bit."
She half-smiled. "You're very conscious of symbolism, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but you like that about me."
She considered a moment. "That's true," she said. "All right then. We should also look at hair clips and the like. A hair band or two would be best. You'd be surprised at how much a hair band changes my appearance."
I smiled, selecting the sweater. "You're right. But let's have you try this on. And something off the jeans rack."
"I would have thought red," she said, accepting the sweater. "You seem to like me in red." She smiled, a bit coyly.
"Your face over a red top? I think that would tempt fate a bit, no matter how skilled you are at disguise."
She shrugged, walking across the aisle to the jeans rack. She thumbed through them. "Mm -- these. You'd be surprised how hard it is to find my size in most stores." She picked them up, and started back towards the changing rooms.
"Really?" I asked, grabbing a black tee shirt off a table and handing it to her. "You're telling me Wo-- that you don't meet the unrealistic standards of American beauty?"
"Doesn't that just say it all?" she asked, grinning. She accepted the tee shirt and walked to the attendant. "I'd like to try these on, please?" she said, smiling again. Which was one of the things I noticed about Diana. She was literally a princess, a goddess and a superheroine. You'd expect her to be overly proud, or smug, or act superior to the people around her. But she never did. Oh, she always had dignity -- always -- but she spoke to essentially everyone with respect, as equals. She never took a submissive stance -- not counting what we did back in my apartment -- but she also never tried to dominate people, whether they were employees of a store or passers-by.
Well, that's not entirely true. She absolutely took control of any crisis, and certainly 'dominated' criminals. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I stood, waiting. There was another guy waiting nearby, shoulders slumped in the 'I'm bored' position. He looked up and caught my eye. "Waiting for your girl to try on clothes?" he asked.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and thought. "Something like that," I said. In one sense, Diana was my girl, at least during these weekends, but there was still something uncomfortable about calling her that.
He chuckled. "Curse of the guy," he said. "It's the worst, isn't it?"
"Actually... I'm enjoying myself. In fact, this was my idea."
He rolled his eyes. "Riiiight."
Diana stepped out. She had a good eye for jeans -- they had enough slack in the legs to be comfortable, but they hugged her hips. The sweater clung very nicely, without straining. You could see a hint of the silk scarves wrapped around her bracers peeking out from under the cuffs, if one looked at her wrists, and no one who could see the statuesque brunette was looking at her wrists. Her eyes flicked to me, then to the other man, then back to me. "What do you think," she asked, turning profile and arching slightly, a hint of a smile on her face. The sweater had a scoop neck, and at that angle and pose the jeans just accentuated her butt.
"I... think we should get those," I said, swallowing. I knew she was using a touch of those 'blessings of Aphrodite' to guide her pose, but I was entirely okay with that.
She smiled. "Do you now? Excellent. I'll go try on the tee shirt." She turned on her heel, walking back into the changing room with just the right swivel.
I stared for a moment at the closed door, then looked back at the other man. He was slack-jawed, then swallowed hard. "You said this was your idea?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Good call."
We ended up getting three tee shirts of different colors, the sweater and the jeans. It was a start. She wore the jeans and the sweater out of the store. I paid -- there wasn't much choice. It's not like Diana carried a wallet or purse. I wondered how she handled such things while on the job.
"Is that all there is to it," she asked as we walked through the mall.
"Oh no," I said. "We should get you some shoes next. Both sneakers and heels--"
"I don't recommend that," she said. "Shoes are... an issue."
"An issue?" I looked over at her. "Why?"
"Well," she considered for a moment. "You know how when you're flying somewhere over three hundred miles an hour before you do a mid-air flip and land straight-legged hard enough to cause a local tremor, knocking your opponent off balance?"
I blinked. "No."
"Neither do most shoe manufacturers."
"Ah... hah." Maybe it was a sign that I was getting accustomed to Diana's presence, but it was easy to forget just how different she was. Sometimes, anyway. Sometimes it was all you could think of. I looked around, and got a slight smile on my face as I saw Victoria's Secret. "Come on," I said. "I think I know where we're going next."
She arched an eyebrow, and followed my gaze. She colored slightly, and took my arm, stopping. "No, Thomas," she said softly. "Not there."
I looked back at her, my own eyebrows going up. "Excuse me?" I flushed as well. "Diana... there's no way you can't accept this as one of my fantasies."
She looked into my eyes, her expression serious. "I do, Thomas," she said, low enough so only I could hear. "And I will wear anything you ask me to. Corsets. Stockings. Slave loincloths. Even one of Power Girl's spare uniforms. Anything." She looked over at the store. "But I promise you, there isn't a thing in there that would fit."
I stared. "You... said you had trouble finding things in your size, but..." I tried to think of how to put it, then gave up and just gestured at the store. "You can't tell me they don't have anything--"
"Maybe one or two bras," she said. "But you wouldn't like them. They assume women my height are slender, without significant muscle definition -- when they admit women as tall as I am exist in the first place. And I need a significantly larger cup than they accommodate. They're not really looking to cater to amazonian physiques." She looked back at the store. "I'm certain there are panties I could fit in there, but honestly, I don't like supporting establishments that strive so hard to set trends while accommodating such a small percentage of the market."
"Oh." I looked back at the store -- at the supermodel pictures in the window display. "Okay."
"I think I saw a Fredrick's down the corridor. They're not perfect about this but they're better--"
"No, I never much liked them. Their styles look... I don't know. Cheap."
Diana smirked.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing really. I'm just thinking of how many of my associates wear similar outfits as their work uniforms. Come on. There's a few other options if you're looking for lingerie that will work on me."
She was right. There were other options. We looked over some of the selection. They ran from the playful to the torrid, and shopping those sections with Diana was enough to get a slight blush on her cheeks which made it all worth it. I ran my fingers over a black lace chemise, and looked back at Diana. She colored a touch. "Maybe," she said. "Though the teddy would look better." I glanced at the one she meant -- it was black lace as well, though trimmed with blood red and high cut with a deep neckline -- and nodded, taking the hanger off the rack and offering it to her.
She took it. "All right," she said. "If you feel you can afford it. Are there any--"
"Diana," I said softly. "We don't know it will work on you."
She blinked, then followed my gaze to the back of the store. To the area where the changing rooms were. "You... want me to try it on?" she asked, her blush deepening.
"Of course," I said.
"And... you would need to... offer opinions?"
"Of course."
She looked around. "Even back there, there would be other people around," she said, softly.
"I know."
"I'm..." she closed her mouth. I already knew what she would say. She was uncomfortable with the idea -- with the idea that someone else might see her dressed so intimately. "Is this... part of your fantasies too?"
"Yes," I said, softly. "Besides. It's not like your uniform covers much more."
"That's different," she said. I could tell it was. It wasn't showing her body off -- she was all right with that. She had little in the way of modesty that way. The issue was context. These were outfits you wore for your lover, and that was something very new for her.
And there was something more. This too was an assertion of control. I had told her I didn't want to parade Wonder Woman around as a trophy, and that was true. But I did want to make it clear this beautiful brunette was my lover. And I wanted to keep inching her out of her comfort zone. We weren't at the stage where public displays of affection would work or be appropriate, but having her acknowledge her sexuality outside of the apartment was a step on the path.
She nodded slowly, and walked to the back of the store. I followed, a slight smile on my face. By the time I reached her, she had already spoken to the salesclerk.
There were indeed a few people back there. Women, waiting for friends who were trying clothes on. Diana was still quite red when she made her way into the changing room and shut the door.
I put my hands in my pockets and leaned against the door. One of the women was looking at me. I nodded and tried not to look smug. After a moment, the room near the woman opened and she turned to render an opinion of her friend's outfit.
The door in front of me opened -- and I swear... somehow there was a hush that fell over the changing area.
Diana was in the black lace teddy, the red trim flaring off her hips... its match drawing eyes to her breasts. It wasn't quite translucent, but given how erect her nipples were, it hardly mattered. The lace conformed to them, probably more than on most women. She had adjusted her hair and redone the scarf, and her legs were encased in black stockings trimmed with matching red lace, held on by garters that attached to the teddy itself. I hadn't even seen her pick up the stockings.
There was a gasp behind me -- female in sound. But I only sort of heard it. I was flushed, my heartbeat clear in my ears. It felt like my head would explode. Take that any way you want.
"Will... this do?" Diana asked, eyebrow arched, hip slightly cocked, a hand on it, even as she arched slightly forward.
"That... I think so," I said, trying not to lose my demeanor. "Turn?"
She turned to her profile, leaning again -- God that was a good lean -- before turning back-to me. The lace covered quite a bit, but it was cut high on the buttocks. Not a thong, but definitely meant to draw one's gaze at the black and red accent on what was an impressive posterior.
She tossed her hair and looked back over her head at me. "Well?" she asked, almost coquettishly. The Blessings of Aphrodite. Right then I couldn't blame her for using them.
"It'll do," I half whispered.
"I'll be right out," she said, and slid back inside.
Slowly, I started to breath again. I looked to the side.
The woman was staring at me. Her friend -- a cute blond wearing a white sheer bra over jeans -- was staring at the door Diana had just closed, utterly heedless of her state of undress.
I coughed and turned forward. Sometimes, superpowers had collateral damage.
About twenty minutes later, we were walking through the underground parking. "--thought she was going to faint," I was saying, about the blond girl. "I mean -- you looked amazing, but her reaction was almost... almost more amazing, you know?"
"Yes," Diana said, a touch softly but still smiling. "I do know, Thomas. It's something I always have to be conscious of."
"Really?"
"Really." She paused, turning towards me. "My beauty is a gift from Aphrodite herself. I cherish it as just such a thing: a gift. But it can also hurt people -- hurt those who might be attracted to me whom I must spurn. Hurt those who might feel intimidated by it or who might see fault in themselves by comparison. It is a blessing, and a gift, and a power -- and to abuse it is to disrespect that gift. Those girls appreciated the sight of me -- the blond in particular -- but neither one of them were hurt by the sight. I know how to recognize those who would be. If they had been, I would have carried myself very differently."
I shook my head. "Wow," I said. "It's... you always have to be...."
"Wonder Woman?" Diana's smile grew a touch mischievous. "I have been trying to tell you that. Just because I...."
Diana's eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head slightly. She was listening to something. Her bearing had shifted as well. I was going to ask, but I had a feeling right then interrupting her concentration would be a bad idea.
It didn't matter anyway. I heard a shout and the sound of metal hitting metal. Turning and looking, I saw people down the long ramp, cars lining one side. A man and a woman, with three burly men surrounding them. One of them was holding a pipe, and had just smacked it against one of the concrete supports holding the roof up. "--trying to screw me," he snapped, leaning toward the pair. "I don't appreciate it!"
The woman said something -- what, I don't know. They were too far away. But I could tell she was crying. The man apparently didn't take her word for it, raising the pipe and cocking it to strike a blow -- against the woman or the man I didn't know--
There was a blur and a rush of wind. Diana had thrown herself down the ramp, one leg bent forward, the other trailing behind, like she were caught in mid-run, though she was flying. With a missile's speed she smashed one wrist into the pipe -- the bracer underneath it taking the blow, I realized -- causing it to dent and fly out of the man's hand and down the ramp. But she wasn't paying attention to that -- she was curling in the air, having caught the man by the throat with her other hand and bringing him down hard against the pavement. How she did that without crushing his windpipe I don't know, but the impact was enough to knock him silly even as she rolled forward and to her feet.
The other two were running towards her. One had a knife -- he slashed it at her, but she deflected it with her still-concealed bracer, even as she slid low and swept his feet. Regaining hers, she hooked herself around and kicked the third-- no. That's the wrong word. She pressed her foot against him, knee bent, and kicked off throwing him twenty feet into one of the other concrete pillars. She used the movement to curl her body, dropping an elbow down onto the thug on the floor, finishing the job her leg sweep had started.
Five seconds? Call it three. Three seconds from standing with me to being fifty feet away, having knocked out three thugs who were threatening a young, helpless couple. It was stunning to see.
She stayed until the mall cops had come, and then stayed close until the proper police arrived. She comforted the pair, and convinced them to explain everything to the police. Some kind of extortion -- I don't know. I stayed well out of the way. Diana didn't need me hanging over them.
She rejoined me after that, a touch flushed and she had a cut in her sweatshirt where the knife had hit her bracer, but otherwise none the worse for wear. She was in full stride as she passed me, and I had to run a bit to catch up and match her motion. "Thomas?" she said, somewhat curtly.
"Yeah, Diana?" I asked.
"Next time, I'm wearing my uniform under my clothes."
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Oathbound