Hello dear reader! I know it's been a long time, but believe it or not, all this time I've been brainstorming. Then I wrote something down but hit a major wall and then, I decided to write something smaller and this is it! The longer fic I'm planning to write takes place a year after 'Making My Way Back' (if you haven't read that, I invite you to!) and this two-shot takes place during that year I won't be covering in the longer fic. I have a couple other one shots planned and hopefully I'll write something descent for the big fic, which includes a villain this time! There's a reason I'm introducing Dr. Minerva! So enough of that. I hope you enjoy!

1

The echo of the click-clack of my heels hitting the marble floor of the Macedonian display of the Louvre is the only sound that can be heard at 8pm on a Monday. I swipe left to the last page of Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva's CV – a CV that shows her impressive trajectory at only 34 years old.

The Louvre is looking for an archaeologist to direct an excavation in Norway for a rumoured Viking site where valuable artefacts could be found. Since I became director of the antiquities department a month ago, it has become my responsibility to make sure the best people are sent to any excavation, auction or any other event that involves the acquisition of artefacts for the Louvre.

Dr. Minerva has quite the reputation for being more than willing to go to any necessary lengths to secure an artefact. What those lengths are I have no idea. I've heard rumours. Not necessarily good ones. Her CV is impressive and it would be idiotic to dismiss her on rumours without even talking to her.

I reach the stairs of my office and I climb down the stairs. I reach for the landline and dial the number listed at the top of her CV. The phone only rings once before my call is answered.

"Minerva," she says in an upper class English accent.

"Bonsoir, Dr. Minerva. This is Diana Prince, director of the antiquities department at the Louvre," I say in French.

One of the many qualities listed on her CV was her ability to speak 8 languages, French being one of them.

"Oh, yes. I was hoping to receive your call Director Prince," she says in flawless French.

"Please, call me Diana,"

"Then by all means call me Barbara Ann. I've never been one for formalities much to my Father's dismay. I believe it gets in the way of honest conversation,"

I smile at her remark. She doesn't like formalities yet she addressed me with one. I like people who are direct yet not disrespectful.

I continue in French, "Well, Barbara Ann I read your CV and of course I've heard about you before and I would love for you to come to the Louvre, if you can, so we can talk face to face and see if you're the right person for the job."

"When do you want me there?"

"When can you be here?", I answer with a question.

"Right now I'm at home in Nottinghamshire so… I can be in Paris in 48 hours. Does that work for you?"

I quickly open my laptop and click on my calendar. "I have Wednesday open at 10am. Is that enough time for you to get here?"

"Plenty. I'll see you on Wednesday, Diana. Thanks for the call,"

"My pleasure. Have a safe trip, Barbara Ann. Bye,"

"Bye,"

I read the CVs of many talented and accomplished archaeologists but none of them felt right. When I got to Barbara Ann's something clicked. It felt so right that I turned around from my way home and headed right back to my office to call her. I took that as a good sign since all I want to do is run back home to Steve as soon as I'm done with work.

Wednesday comes fast and at 9:50am Emilie, my new assistant, comes down the stairs to let me know Barbara Ann is here. I take note of her punctuality and put that on my mental list of things I like about her so far.

I've seen several pictures of Barbara Ann before in newspapers and featured articles, so I recognize her immediately. She's as tall as I am, blonde hair, wears thick-framed glasses and fit. But I find myself surprised by her confidence. It's in the way she walks with her head held high, focused gaze and just this general sense of badassery. If I were to put armour on her, she could easily pass as an Amazon.

"Barbara Ann. Enchantée," I say standing up and walking around my desk. I stretch out my hand.

"Diana. Pleasure to meet you," She says taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.

"May I get you anything to drink Dr. Minerva?" Emilie asks politely before leaving.

"Oh no, merci. I had one too many espressos on my way here,"

Emilie nods and leaves us.

"Please sit, Barbara Ann. I hope your train ride was a pleasant one?" I motion for her to sit opposite me.

"As far as train rides go, it wasn't too bad."

"Glad to hear it. Now, why don't we get to the reason why we're here? Why should I hire you instead of any of the others just as qualified candidates?"

She smiles in a way that makes me think she was hoping I would ask her exactly that question.

"I think the correct question would be 'why wouldn't you hire me?' Let's be honest here. Nobody you have interviewed comes even close to what I have accomplished. Nobody you have interviewed will bring the attention that I can and will bring to this project. Nobody you have interviewed is Barbara Ann Minerva. If you hire me, I can 100% guarantee that the Louvre will have those artefacts it desires so much. And I can promise you the eyes of the world will be watching. I get people what they want. I always deliver no matter what. I didn't get to where I am by giving out false hope. If I say you're getting something, you're getting it,"

I lift an eyebrow and can't help but smile in surprise. And it's not necessarily a smile of admiration. Arrogance, this amount of arrogance is almost always dangerous (or irritating at the least).

I put that on my mental list of things I don't like about her so far.

As always I stay professional and try to remember what was on her CV. I quickly remember she is a polyglot. She claims to be fluent in 8 languages. I already heard her speak French; she's English, so obviously she's fluent in that, so I decide to ask my next question in Greek.

"I wanted to get to that. The Louvre is a renowned institution and it has a reputation to protect. You can understand that one of the reasons I'm not completely convinced that you are the right person for the job is because of those rumours that go around about you and how you operate. They don't always paint you as the moral and ethical professional that we're looking to hire."

Barbara Ann looks me intensely in the eyes and I hold her gaze with the practiced ease of a superhero staring down a villain before a fight. After a few seconds she smiles and shakes her head. She crosses her arms on the table and leans forward slightly. I hold my position, curious of what she'll say next.

Effortlessly switching from French to Greek she answers, "Don't believe everything you hear, Diana. I was taught to be fearless and unwavering when it comes to protecting my legacy. I became an archaeologist because I feed off of the mystery and the high of setting on an adventure not knowing if I'll come out alive. I don't take the easy jobs. You will never find me on an excavation in a parking lot next to a church. You will find me deep in the African jungles negotiating with unwelcoming tribe leaders who are pointing spears soaked in poisonous venom at me. I've found myself in situations where I had to use my brain and sometimes even my wit to escape with my life and the artefacts I promised. But let me ask you this, all those rumours you've heard, have any of them ever came from the people who protected those artefacts?"

I hold her gaze for a few seconds and leaning back on my chair I say, "No,"

I note that her Greek is flawless. That's 3 languages she has proven to speak perfectly.

Barbara Ann nods and stays quiet for a moment, as if deciding if she should say what she's thinking or not.

"I think it is important for you to know, Diana that I'm not superficial. I'm not insensitive. I'm not all about the glory. I know it comes out that way sometimes. I can't always help it. I was, after all, raised by my Father,"

She says that in an exhale, more like an afterthought and at my look of curiosity in regards to her Father, she waves it off and says,

"If you end up hiring me, I'll tell you all about him. But what I was trying to say is, I never have and never will retrieve an artefact from a place that does not want me to. I don't just show up with an immense group of people and machinery spewing order after order and decimating someone's home for me to have a nice little article published in magazines praising my every move. I always show up first, alone, and meet with the leaders of the community. I talk to them and let them know what my intentions are and what they're comfortable sharing not only with me but with the world. I show them what my plan is and if it will in any way affect their everyday lives. I hear their concerns and calm their fears. I take care of them. At least I try to. That's why I overcompensate sometimes and make it all about me, so that the cameras are not pointing at places they're not welcomed in. But obviously the press doesn't know that I do that."

Now I start smiling in good surprise. Barbara Ann Minerva cares about people and cares about their culture and how they're portrayed to the world. And that's exactly the kind of person I'm looking for.

"I'm sure you know this about me, since it's written everywhere" – she continues – "I come from an aristocratic English family and so I have some money at my disposal and I sometimes use it to change people's minds, if you know what I mean. So there's that too."

I smile and pretend I didn't hear that because bribes are not exactly the kind of thing I could publicize.

I wasn't expecting to discover this side of Barbara Ann. She's done a very good job in making people believe she is this maverick that does anything to achieve what she wants. I mean, it's not totally wrong since she made it sound like she willingly gets herself kidnapped just for the rush of it, but she's kind hearted even if she's not totally aware of it.

In English I say, "You knew you were getting the job before you even walked in through those doors, didn't you?"

She smiles cockily, "Of course, I did. I'm Barbara Ann Minerva after all,"

Yes, she definitely is.

AN: What did you think? Let me know in the comments! I'll be posting the last part of this two shot on Sunday. I've missed you guys!