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“Surprisingly, there is no woman to be found on Bruce Wayne tonight. He arrived all alone, for the fifth consecutive party he’s attended this month. And that’s something we’ve never seen. We have to wonder what is going on in Bruce Wayne’s love life.”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Diana threatened softly, like a territorial puppy, towards Cat Grant’s polyester pantsuit plastered on the monitor screen.

“For almost three months he hasn’t been spotted with anyone. Does this mean he’s taking a break from the game, or he’s hiding a new secret relationship? Here to answer the questions himself is the man of the hour, Bruce Wayne.”

Dressed in a sleek black tux, Bruce was thrust into the camera’s view as Cat visibly grabbed hold of his upper arm. His features sharpened under the bright lights.

Diana merely raised her chin and awaited his statement.

He rolled flirtatious smile across his lips , prompting Diana to groan in disgust. The persona he had to put on for the public irked her, even sickened her at times. It was so fake , so grossly fake, and those poor woman didn’t even know. She pitied every girl who threw themselves at Bruce Wayne. One would’ve thought that made them the predator-but they were always the prey. Didn’t they know they were worth so much more than a one night stand with an imaginary man?

None of these people knew the real Bruce Wayne. How unfortunate for them. If only they could see the man harboring a deeply rooted drive for justice, thinking he was drowning in darkness, when, in truth, light compromised the essence of his soul. The good man, watching over Gotham night after night, training kin to do the same, so the people would always know they were protected. The man that wanted to keep her, Princess of the Amazons, away from his dark world, putting her before his feelings for years. That man was the one every person deserved to know.

That was the man she fell in love with, the man that loved her in return. The best in Man’s World.

Cat’s skinny fingers wrapped around his bicep. “Here with anyone special tonight, Bruce?”

Bruce’s fabricated playboy smirk gleamed at her. “I’m here alone, Cat, but hopefully I’ll find someone pretty enough to take home.”

Her fingers circled around the monitor’s remote control.

An obvious excuse to get closer, Cat leaned towards the microphone she angled at him. “So there’s no secret woman you’ve been keeping from us?”

“Of course not.”

Her fingers tightened.

“Glad to hear you’re still open for business.”

“I’m no one woman show,” he joked.

Diana’s anger coiled possessively around her nerves. As she breathed heavily through her nostrils, the remote’s center accommodated the overpoweringly strong position of her hand by bending inwards.

Her eyes skipped across the computer board keys, like a rock glazing water’s surface.

Not the computer of Bruce Wayne, but The Dark Knight.

This was just a persona. This wasn’t Bruce.

“No woman is good enough for Bruce Wayne, huh?”

Bruce made his shrug graceful. “Guess not.”

The remote shattered faster than it took Flash to dash across a room. An abnormal burst of blue light flickered on the screen, but it quickly dissipated before the system turned off. Diana released the pieces atop the controls and shook her hand clean over the floor.

Both Cat’s and Bruce’s voices sucked back into the monitor, and she sat alone with her thoughts.

It didn’t settle her storm.

“That was expensive, Miss Diana.”

So focused on the news, she hadn’t even heard him come down the stairs.

Alfred. A trustworthy and endearing companion she’d rapidly grown to love. She wasn’t in the mood to talk-but if someone had to join her, she was at least grateful it was him.

“He can afford it.”

“That is true. But I don’t think violence the best way to exercise your anger.”

“I’m not angry, I’m fine, Alfred.”

Kindly, gently, he laughed. “Oh, you cannot play that game with me. Master Bruce has believed himself to be an expert at it for years.”

Diana repressed her scoff.

Alfred’s shoes clicked against the metal floor. Steadying the indignant rising and falling in her chest, she rotated the spinning chair to face him.

Her gaze jumped to greet his, taking in typical uniform and grin. She straightened. His smiling eyes were the warmest things in the cave.

Oh Hera.

The angry shroud trickled into the pit of her stomach. Alfred’s joyful wrinkle lines invited guilt to rise.

Her feet decided to get up before the rest of her body, pulling her out of the chair. “Alfred, I apologize for just barging in here-”

His proceeding head shake interrupted her. “You are always welcome here, Miss Diana.” She answered his claim with a grateful lip quirk. Her tense muscles sighed a breath of relief. “But just a simple hello isn’t the nature of your visit today, is it?”

Diana looked away, naturally gravitating to the remote’s smashed remnants littering the computer control panel. “Not exactly,” she admitted.

“Up for sharing, perhaps?”

“I had information for Bruce. A breakthrough on a case the League has been pursuing for a while,” she stated. “He’d want to know.”

“And he failed to answer his com when you called,” Alfred concluded.

Politely disagreeing, Diana’s arched brows conjoined into one. “I didn’t try calling first. I wanted to see him.” Her expression deflated like a balloon losing its helium. “But he’s preoccupied tonight. ...I should’ve just notified him via com.”

He stepped gracefully to the side of her chair, hitting her with a wave of unfamiliar paternal fondness. She suddenly became aware of how pathetic she sounded, and newfound anger bubbled in her throat.

Only Bruce got to her in such a way.

Her fingers twitched with an urge to smash something.

“No woman has ever come here looking for the man, Miss Diana.”

Confused, she replied, “Women making fools of themselves come looking for him often.”

“But none of them are looking for more than a thrilling night at Wayne Manor with the man continually conquering Gotham’s headlines. You, my dear, search for much, much more.”

“I don’t follow what you’re saying,” she noted.

Alfred’s tone continued like he hadn’t stopped. “You’re here for the man, not the name, correct?”

“Yes.” She cocked her head.

“Would you still care for him if he was not Bruce Wayne?” He gestured at the majority of Batman’s equipment in a single swift motion. “If he did not have all this money?”

Surprised, Diana’s electric eyes widened. “Great Gaia-of course.”

Alfred, pleased, smiled knowingly. “And that is why he loves you, Miss Diana. The stubborn fool believes he’s protecting you by keeping you away from this mad world he’s in. But you can never be apart of that. You are too real for the petty falseness of Gotham’s elite.”

“I don’t think it’s about protecting me from them, Alfred, but any villain or criminal that could recognize me with him,” she countered respectively.

“That is part of his logic, yes, but not all of it. You see, Master Bruce does not you to experience what he endures to preserve the nature of his identity.”

Diana nodded in comprehension, though her tone displayed disagreement. “I would rather go with him than allow him to suffer.”

Alfred’s lips folded high into his wrinkles, appreciative of her remark. “Only recently did he permit your relationship to blossom, after years of denying his feelings. Now he must learn to let you into this other part of his life, as well. It’s certainly not a genuine representation of him, but is integral to the life he leads. I believe he is afraid, Miss Diana, of you witnessing his false persona.”

“ I’m not afraid.”

“You are much too good for those people, and he knows it. So he wishes prohibit exposure.” Alfred straightened. “And, of course, he fiercely believes keeping Diana Prince out of the public is necessary, but you are more than capable of handling yourself quite excellently.”

Diana pursed her lips, the violent impulse in her muscles lessening. “I get his reasoning, I do. It just doesn’t exactly make sense.”

“One of the smartest men in the world, and he often never does,” Alfred agreed.

She stepped back until her feet were off the ground and she dropped in the leather chair, “I don’t want him to feel alone, Alfred. He’s not alone.”

“That is precisely why he never will be. He has you ,” he replied confidently. “You are both very strong, resilient people, but I think you’re even stronger as a team.”

“I can’t tell if he knows that.”

“He does, but he’s merely learning to accept it. Maybe you should chat with him when he returns this later evening.”

Her lips pursed. “Alfred-”

“Please. You are the most magnificent company. Don’t feel pressured to stay if you wish to leave-but know you are welcome for as long as you’d like.”

He gave her a nod, his equivalent of a comforting shoulder squeeze, before turning to retreat up the stairs.

Her eyes followed him until his figure disappeared into the shadows, and the door creaked open high above.

And then, Diana became alone with her thoughts again.

Bruce rubbed a calloused hand down his face, repressing a long awaited yawn. His open collar shifted against his chest. Alfred’s shoes clicked on the tile somewhere nearby.

Those parties tempted him to unveil the wrath of the Bat more often than criminals did.

But that was the entire reason why he had to go-to preserve his identity. If someone connected Bruce to the Bat-they could connect Dick and Tim.

That’s exactly why Diana couldn’t come.

She could defend herself, better than anyone he’d ever met, in fact. There was just no way he would allow any potential risk of harm to her. None. Absolutely not.

He would never forgive himself if he was responsible for anything to happen to her.

He already had enough he would never forgive himself for.

Giving into the desire to have her there was dangerous. It took years to realize he could let her in-that he needed to let her in.

Bringing her into the spotlight compromised her safety. It was entirely different than accepting his feelings.

The world deserved to know Diana Prince-not only Wonder Woman. But Diana didn’t deserve them.

Alfred appeared at his side as he stepped further into the foyer. The butler extended his forearms, hidden behind black suit jacket sleeves, inciting Bruce to slip his own coat off. Alfred carefully bent it at the middle, folding it over his arm.

Walking swiftly, Bruce began his trek towards the Batcave’s hidden entrance.

“Anything I need to know, Alfred?”

“Oh,” he followed few paces behind, “I think you’ll find what you’re looking for in the cave, sir.”

Up until that point, their encounter had been routine for a return home after a night out for Bruce Wayne.

Bruce cocked a brow. “Something I need to know?”

“Pressing matters, Master Wayne. No time to waste,” his voice pushed encouragingly.

His chin locked. “Why didn’t you notify me if it’s so important?”

“Oh, Master Bruce, please, just go.”

Stalking quickly down the stairs, the World’s Greatest Detective wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. The more likely option: Wally forgot another password to his room and needed Bruce, the only Leaguer with master control access, to reset it. The less likely but still plausible option: Dick broke his arm out on patrol again and Tim narrowly managed to drive the Batmobile back without damaging it.

If it’d been something direly serious, Alfred would’ve called with a fabricated excuse for him to ditch the party early.

But he could never plan on her.

Despite his extensive self-training, carefully constructed mental walls, and all the years of knowing her, every time he saw her, the heart once frozen over went boom inside his chest.

Each of his protégés warmed and filled his heart, but she made it whole.

Still dressed in her Wonder Woman uniform, she repeatedly unleashed her Amazon skills on a worn out punching bag. A look off to the side informed him it was the third in use of the night.

There was never a time when she looked most beautiful. She always looked beautiful. But watching her warrior instincts kick ass definitely had its perks.

Catching himself on the verge of falling into a trap, Bruce detangled from the shadows’ claws. He descended the staircase.

Close enough for to become noticeable under the dim lighting, he said, “Didn’t expect to see you here, Princess.”

The punching bag swung to a stop as his voice stole her attention. She angled towards him. “Shayera finally tracked down the source of those Bosnian nuclear weapons. She, Clark, and John brought several suspects into custody.” Her feet jumped back into position. “Two confessed.”

He walked faster. “I’m just hearing this now?”

She gave a shrug in the midst of a hard left punch. “Well, I didn’t realize the Bat was out tonight.”

His facial muscles slackened, prohibiting himself from slowing. “Bruce Wayne has to make appearances here and there, Diana.”

“That wasn’t Bruce Wayne.”

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, his shoes touched the floor. Diana paused to glance him over, watching as he stalked in her direction.

It would’ve been nice if Alfred gave him at least a little bit of prep before coming down.

“That’s the only Bruce Wayne Gotham needs to know,” he replied, biting back the argumentative inclination.

“Those poor women never know what they are truly dealing with.”

Bruce clenched his jaw and tried not to let the startled reaction show. He continuing closing the distance between them, and she continued beating the punching bag senseless.

All the right words dodged his dives, leaving him hanging out to dry.

He was good at a lot of things-but not this.

“No. Not since we’ve been together, Princess,” he promised.

Her fist slammed into the bag. The force from her hit propelled it against the nearest wall.

She’d dismantled three, just tonight. This time, though, the connected metal beam high above went along for the ride.

Diana huffed, her red boots planting to properly admire her work. Beads of sweat glistened from her forehead.

She liked to hit things when she was frustrated.

“I know, Bruce.” Her fiery temper burned behind her wall of calm. “I trust you. Implicitly.”

He chose his next words carefully. “So that’s not what you’re upset about.”

“Excellent observation, Detective.”

He didn’t satisfy her comment’s open request for a response. Instead, he inquired, “What’s going on?”

Diana peeled her eyes from the bag on the floor. Peering at him, she walked closer as she spoke. “Bruce, I know it’s difficult,” she remarked, kind yet stern, “but you have to give me all of you for this relationship to work. Not half.”

And somehow, he couldn’t figure out the way to respond. “That’s not... me , Diana.”

Her lips thinned into a tight line. Heels clicking, her endless legs dwelled on the outer edge of his space bubble. “I can accept if you’re not ready for me to be there.”

Guiltily, he gave an internal groan. “No-that’s not it.”

The muscles in her face relaxed, reassured. She didn’t comment on it, though. “I just can’t accept your belief that you need to do it alone.”

“This is not up for debate, Princess,” he confirmed.

“I’ve been in Man’s World long enough to know boyfriend does not mean boss ,” Diana snapped.

Damn it . His intention was never to make her angry. But she’d been a sensitive flame since he joined her, and his words were the fuel.

“You don’t wear a mask-you don’t have a cover identity,” Bruce countered, fiercely trying to convince her he was right yet she wasn’t wrong. His hands gestured unsteadily. “What if someone recognizes you?”

Scowling, her expression resembled a lively bolt of lightning narrowing in on its target. “I don’t need to lie to the public to protect myself.”

“I know that, Diana. But-”

“But what ?” she asked. Cold. “Where’s the honor in lying to the very people we set out to save?”

“What if somebody comes after you? It would be my fault. I would be the one that exposed you to the public.”

“I can handle it.”

“Can you handle the rumors they’re going to start? Once you’re seen with Bruce Wayne-the media will be on you all the time . They’ll scrutinize every little thing about you. You don’t need to have-”

She shook her head dangerously. He was losing the risky game they were playing. And, more importantly, she thought he wanted to beat her. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t need, Bruce.”

He finally allowed himself to breathe, slowing. “...You don’t deserve ...to have the paparazzi breathing down your neck. I don’t want you to go through that.”

Diana’s glower retreated into her features minimally. The deep huffing in her chest subsided. She waited until she became calmer, and their eye contact remained in the silence. “Not only do you have a duty to Gotham,” she started, “but to yourself. To prevent anyone from discovering your connection to the Bat, you must pretend you’re nothing more than a moraless womanizer. You’ve been doing it for years on your own-yes, but if you want me to join you, I’m here. You give so much to these people-”

His voice and line of sight fell to the floor. “It’s not worth the risk.”

“Bruce.” She cupped her gentle hands around his wrists. “Unity is not weakness. Your crusade is stronger with Dick and Tim, and look at all the work the League has done together. We’re a couple now. You’re not alone anymore.”