"A business meeting?" Alfred repeated his 'employer' with a great deal less enthusiasm with which he had prepared dinner for the last two hours.

"Yes," replied the reigning Wayne, looking quite crossed with the obvious displeasure in his butler's tone. "You'd think you'd be used to them by now, Alfred."

Fighting the urge to sigh as they passed one another in the cave, the elder gentleman grumbled with obvious disappointment, "I'm sorry, Master Wayne, I suppose I just assumed that your request for a dinner for two at home meant that you would be entertaining much more…intimate company."

"I hope that doesn't mean you prepared oysters," Surely, Bruce meant that to be a joke - a staple in their typical bantering – and yet he sounded a tad more serious than he most likely intended. With a jeweller's screwdriver in hand, he made it his goal to avoid looking up from the utility belt he was manufacturing, only further highlighting the slight nervousness that seeped through his usual disposition, "or anything with nuts."

"Nuts?" Alfred repeated curiously.

Without thinking, Bruce rattled off his explanation, "It is suppose to supply stamina to both men and women while lengthening the effect of any and all orga—Uh hem. I think that's the door." Snapping him out of his workaholic frenzy was the orchestral doorbell. Despite his training as an almost too efficient butler, Alfred Pennyworth found himself frozen for a moment too long while observing Bruce Wayne. It was peculiar to note the embarrassment in which he discussed his knowledge of the pleasure-related foods, given his less than subtle playboy façade that they were both forced to endure ever since he became the Bat of Gotham. The bright lamp that was blaring down upon his work station allowed for the shadows to hide in the corners of his sulking expression, bringing to light his sullen mood after being much too informative about the sexual prowess of hard-shelled fruits.

Never before had he seen a bat blush.

"Alfred." Came the warning voice of his charge, reminding him of the task of greeting his guest who was patiently waiting at the front door of the manor. Immediately, the hike from the cave helped Alfred to understand just how ungracious of a host he was being by allowing Master Wayne's oddities in behaviour distract him and he raced upstairs at once. All the while, his fortitudinous mind ran through the names of every business partner that Bruce would ever allow to the manor and could not think of single individual on that self-made list who held the power to make the mighty Batman grow flustered. He scolded himself then for allowing his personal aspirations for the man he had helped shape and care for to ever take a woman on his arm that he was proud to partner with, that he might actually develop a future with; though he would never cease in teasing his surrogate son about his lack of a suitor, he should not allow for himself to get so carried away with such fantasy.

He reminded himself that it was unwise to involve oneself too deeply with one's imagination.

Or so he believed, until he opened the door and was met with the sight of a modern goddess on the porch.

"Good evening," the elegant woman before him sang her greeting with a reserved yet pleasant grin resting on her ruby lips. Dressed much too exquisitely for the likes of the two men she was meant to accompany for dinner, she wore a cocktail dress that managed to compare to her beauty if only due to its subtle and graceful design, meant to accent the jewels around her neck that reflected the genuine enthusiasm in meeting him that he spotted in her dark brown eyes. Evidently familiar with high society protocol, she held out her hand and introduced herself to the bewildered butler, "My name is Diana Prince. I am here for a meeting with Mr. Wayne." It was evident by the way she said the word 'meeting' that she found the formality to be a silly precaution, most likely designated by the man she had come to see.

Good God, if he thought she was wonderful before she even spoke…

"Miss Prince," was how Bruce made his presence known as he jogged into the front hall, wringing his hands on a dirty rag that he had been making use of the entire evening while he worked, "welcome."

Before Alfred could even begin to scold him for his poor manners, Diana stepped into the manor and pointedly asked, "I see you've been busy; were you working on your broken Batmobile?" The fact that she knew of his heroic alter ego's signature vehicle surprised the older man greatly, however, it was her knowledge of its current state of wreckage was quite impressive. It was almost too easy to assume that the stunning woman who had been invited over to their home for such a late dinner, with no supposed erotic intentions (immediately) obvious in Master Wayne's schedule for the evening…

This woman was just as wild as Bruce was: a heroine who planned to assist him in locating even more super-powered individuals.

What a club, they were making.

Frowning at her in a typical fashion, Bruce stated, "No, I wasn't. That's someone else's job. But before we get to our work for the evening, Alfred has made dinner for us."

"Has he? I'm glad I avoided the temptation to go through a drive-thru on my way over then." Diana teased, heavily implying that she had no idea that food was being prepared for this 'meeting' Bruce had designed for them.

Alfred was more than prepared to speak up, and yet, Bruce seemed to have all of the answers tonight. "Do you know how sacrilegious it would be to drive that car of yours through a McDonalds?" Both reprimanding and secretly playful, the almighty Batman made it known that he took personal offense to the mere thought of such a thing, before moving past it quite quickly, "Besides, Alfred's food is far superior to anything you would have had there."

Before Alfred could get a word in edgewise, Diana took a step back and parried such a silly inclination, "It would have most likely been a Dunkin' Donuts."

They locked stares for a moment longer than that of a typical conversation between mere colleagues, yet as if they sensed the butler's piqued interest, they shifted out of their combative stances and appeared altogether friendly once again.

Running a now cleaned hand through his hair, Bruce decided to play the part of a proper host and proposition his guest cordially, "Why don't I lead you to the dining room?"

"We aren't going to be working while we eat?" inquired Diana as she began to trail behind the busybody master of the house, "I assumed you would have me re-watch the videos and review those photos the moment I arrived."

"Then you need to quickly upgrade your opinion of the Bruce Wayne before I take offense."

"Hm, I doubt that won't happen over night, but I am sure things will change with time." The tone of her voice implied there was some sort of private joke to be found in her response, furthered proven by the cheery laugh that echoed about the manor's front hall before she passed through to the dining room…

Forgotten, alone, Alfred had not a clue as to what it was that was expected of him in that moment. Was he supposed to give them a moment to let the embers of their sensuality settle before stepping into the kitchen? Or was his charge expecting him to interfere all throughout the evening, popping in and out of their 'meeting', in the hopes of distracting him from his obvious attraction, the magnetic pull between them?

"Well," he mumbled as he composed himself, straightening his vest before he took off to plate his well-made feast, inhaling deeply before he even took a step and finished his thought with belated excitement, "better late than never."