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Rich Kid with Issues	By : AthenaPhoenix Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Justice League Views: 11139 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
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Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not our character and is used without permission. We aren't making any money from this story.

Part Seven: Winding Down

Before the night ended, Batman and Nemesis had stopped two more muggings and another attempted rape. After Batman trussed the would-be rapist, Nemesis left him dangling upside-down from a lamppost. The warrior's blood was running hot in her veins. She would have done more to punish the criminal had Batman allowed her to do so.

Still seething, she only turned to leave the scene when Batman laid a commanding hand on her arm. “Let's go.” They turned the corner where the Batmobile was waiting and the doors popped open to admit them.

Nemesis slid into the passenger seat, grateful for the touch of the cool leather against her heated skin. As the automatic restraints activated, she sat back and removed the communicator from her face. Batman wordlessly extended his hand and she gave the device to him, which he stowed in yet another compartment of his utility belt.

As he put the Batmobile in gear, Nemesis growled, “Where are we going?”

“Starbucks. The one on Tenth and Washington is open 24 hours a day, and they have a drive-through.”

“You drink coffee this time of night?”

“It helps me wind down after patrol.”

That explains a lot, Nemesis thought.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, as Batman sipped his coffee, he did seem to relax slightly. He turned to Nemesis and stated, “You enjoyed that, didn't you.” It wasn't a question.

“I did,” she replied. “I think the goddess Nemesis gave me some of her power, because all I could think about was vengeance. And justice.”

“It's addictive, isn't it?”

“I can see how it would be.” She paused for a moment. “I may have liked being Nemesis too much. I think I should be Diana now.”

Although she was still wearing the Nemesis uniform, she forced herself to change roles. She picked out a point on the windshield and stared at it, forcing herself to start the Karthene breathing techniques. Soon, the blood-lust evaporated and Diana felt the tension ebb from her body. Back in control once more, she turned to him and snorted, “You're one to talk about addiction, caffeine junkie. You ought to own stock in Starbucks.”

“WayneTech holds 6% of the shares. The dividends pay for my habit.”

As they sped toward Wayne Manor, Batman pressed a button on the steering wheel. A previously-hidden door in the hill sprung open. Diana was impressed, “So that's how you do it. I always wondered.” They drove into the Batcave.

“Is that why they call you ‘Wonder’ Woman?” he asked, emphasizing the 'Wonder' with his fingers in quotes.

Since his manner had been curt and professional for most of the night, she was surprised at his teasing rejoinder. She looked at him, patting his shoulder. “You must be really tired to make that bad of a joke. Are you sure you're up,” she paused, significantly, “for further activities?”

“When I see you in that thong, I'll have no trouble being up for anything.” It was disconcerting to see Bruce Wayne's leer coming from the Batman. “You are wearing it, aren't you?”

“Would I dare defy the Batman?” she retorted.

Before Batman could respond, Alfred appeared next to the car. As they got out, he greeted them, “Good morning, Master Bruce, Miss Diana. A good patrol?”

“Six muggers and two rapists. I'd say it was good.”

“Shall I prepare the usual, sir?”

“Please. We'll be along shortly.” He pushed the cowl back from his head and, for the first time that night, Diana saw Bruce Wayne's cold blue eyes. They seemed to warm, though, when he gazed at her.

She wanted to cup his face in her hands and lose herself in his eyes, but settled for asking a simple question. “The usual?”

A small yet genuine smile crossed his face. “You'll see.”

* * *

Bruce led the way through the master bedroom into a surprisingly sumptuous bathroom. Anticipating her question, he simply said, “It was my parents. I’ve added some massage jets but the tub was theirs.”

The centerpiece was a huge sunken tub easily large enough to fit the two of them. The whirlpool jets made the water foamy and caused the floating rose petals to bob about wildly. Fluffy green towels were draped invitingly from a warming rack nearby. Two bathrobes hung from hooks in the wall. In the corner, she spotted a bottle of champagne partly submerged in an ice bucket and two flutes standing ready.

She sat down on one of the steps and pulled off her boots. “Are the champagne and rose petals part of ‘the usual’?” she inquired, dryly.

Bruce looked sheepish for a moment. “No, they were, um, Alfred's idea.” He suddenly appeared defensive. “I normally just have the bath. It helps loosen my muscles.”

“It's okay, Bruce,” Diana said, patting him on the shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.” He was about to respond, when he realized with a wry grin that Diana was teasing.

Gesturing for her to stand and turn around, he reached up to unzip her uniform. “Would you like some help with that?”

She leaned back to rub her back and hips against him seductively “I'd love some help.”

Slowly, tantalizingly, he unfastened and peeled the black spandex off, pausing only to allow her to step out of it. Before she could turn to face him, he untied the mask. “I think your identity's safe here, though I'm not making any promises about anything else.”

Bruce took a step back and gazed at Diana's body, naked save for the thong. He lightly brushed his fingertips down her muscled back and the curve of her narrow waist. She shivered at his delicate touch.

“The word ‘callipygian’ must have been created with you in mind,” he observed as he reached her firm, sleek bottom.

Diana laughed, “Flatterer.” With a note of mock concern in her voice, she continued, “But Bruce, something's wrong here.” She disengaged from his embrace and turned around. “You're not being fair.”

“Fair?” He raised an eyebrow. “I'd say you're fair enough for us both. Your mother certainly won her way into Aphrodite's good graces.”

Diana refused to be dissuaded, although she could tell that her near-nudity was having a satisfyingly distracting effect on Bruce. “That's not what I meant. Here I am, practically looking like a nymph, and you're still fully dressed. Is that…justice?”

Imitating Alfred's voice, she chided, “Besides, Master Bruce, your bathwater is getting cold.”

Bruce paused, pretending to think, “I suppose it would be a waste of hot water if you got dressed again.” He sat down on a step and tugged at one boot, then the other.

“Sit up a moment,” Diana ordered, and pulled his cape free from where he had been sitting on it. She lifted it and the attached cowl over his head. “That's better.” Tossing it to the side, she leaned forward curiously, “How do you keep it from getting dirty? It seems like it would get in the way.”

“Scotchguard,” he replied. “I also own stock in 3M.” He turned his back toward her, gesturing toward the zipper. “Now, I believe you know how this works?”

“I remember.” And she did, sliding the uniform off his shoulders and dropping kisses along his spine. He rose as she knelt so she could slip his pants down around his ankles and off. He shivered as she lightly grazed the bulge in his briefs with her fingernails before adding his uniform to the pile of clothes.

Stroking the top of her head, he said softly, “I didn't think Amazon princesses played valet.”

“Is that who you'd like me to be now?” she returned.

She was surprised to hear his voice turn serious for a moment, “Diana, you're perfect the way you are.”

And then he smiled. “Except that you're not in my bath and you still have too many clothes on.”

Teasingly, she struck a seductive pose for him, the Bat appliqué glinting in the light. “But don't you like seeing me in the… the… Bat-thong?” She had to stifle a laugh at the last word.

“I hate it,” he growled, but she saw his difficultly in repressing a grin. “Take it off.”

“If you insist,” and the thong joined the pile. Stepping down into the bubbling tub, she continued, “After all, it is your world and your rules.”

“Damn straight,” he replied, doffing his Bat-briefs and joining her.

* * *

Bruce slowly relaxed as he soaked in the tub. Diana sat snugly between his legs with her back against his chest, her head nestled between the crook of his shoulder and neck. He peeked down and smiled as her breasts rose, then submerged under the bubbles with each deep breath he took. They had teased each other while bathing, drawing out the tension but not yet giving in. To her credit, she had pointedly ignored a certain growing appendage. Once through, they had settled into this intimate position, quietly musing about the evening's events.

He finally broke the silence, “More champagne?”

“Yes, please.” He reached over the side of the tub and refilled her flute slowly, to keep the bubbles from filling it.

She sipped slowly. “I really love carbonation.”

“That's an… unusual statement.”

She looked up at him, momentarily confused, then chuckled. “We never – invented I guess is the right word – we never invented carbonation on Themyscira. Certainly not for wine. Audrey introduced me to it…” She paused and sipped the champagne appreciatively. “It's wonderful.”

He smiled. “It also goes to your head faster.” His eyes promised delightful consequences.

She raised an eyebrow, her face showing mock indignation. “Mr. Wayne! As an Amazon, I am almost… no, I am insulted that you would insinuate I can't hold my liquor. Particularly as compared to the weaker sex!”

He let out a melodramatic sigh and said nothing.

She looked at him, mock indignation giving way to mock earnest concern. “Oh! I'm sorry. I forgot – men have difficulty with abstract thought. That means you, you sweet thing.” She punctuated the “you” by splashing him slightly.

Bruce half-snorted, half-laughed. “Amazonian keg parties. On the beach. The mind boogles.”

“Boogles? That's not a word.” she scoffed.

“My world, my lexicon, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hera, give me patience.”

Bruce appeared almost affronted. “What? I can't make up my own words to describe an island of drunk, beautiful women...”

“Cool down, Bruce. I think you've got Themyscira confused with South Padre Island during spring break.”

“I expect the scenery would be even more… remarkable.”

She smiled a half-smile and leaned her head against her left hand, affecting boredom. “Oh, do tell.”

“I can just picture it – hundreds of Amazons running down the beach. Nude rites of spring. Parties. Wet breastplate contests…”

Diana groaned in exasperation and splashed him again. “Dionysus's winebowl! You're worse than a satyr.” She laughed. “Just not as witty.”

“Oh, I'd say I have a lot more self-control than a satyr.” As he spoke, he traced lazy circles on her abdomen with his finger. “You've been naked for a while now, and all I've done is ply you with champagne and conversation.” He paused. “Sparkling conversation, I might add.”

“I was wondering what was wrong with you,” she teased, and this time her laugh was delightfully throaty. “What, are Amazonian princesses becoming too passé for you?”

“Well, feisty Daily Planet reporters can be attractive too…” he ventured, his eyes gleaming.

Her eyes flashed for a moment – then she tossed her head and her eyes became mischievous. “Don't let his sweet demeanor fool you. Clark only drinks out of one side of the wine glass. You're not his type.”

Bruce tried to stay aloof, but finally had to laugh. “Touché, Princess.”
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Rich Kid with Issues