Don't own Justice League or any of its characters. DC does as far as I know.

Based primarily on the JL animated series and JLU, though there are elements of Bruce's parents and Alfred that might be a little outside of them. The JLU episode "The Once and Future Thing" is referenced.

Haven't been run through a beta, so feel free to message me with any boo-boos and I'll fix them.

Thanks for reading…and this is my first JL fic in a long time. Be gentle. ;)

"Here," said Batman to his comrade. His gauntleted hand pointed to the screen indicating a block of code even as the other hand reached down to press the button that would freeze the rolling reams of coding. "We can cut the 'Friend or Foe' response time for the security system in half if we modify that code."

Limiting the time it took for the Watchtower's security system to determine whether a person was authorized to be there or not had been playing on his mind ever since Chronos had appeared out of thin air and almost had enough time to make off with one of his utility belts.

"Yes, I see it," replied J'onn's deep voice. There was a thoughtful pause before he added, "It may also improve the response time if we…"

"I'm telling you I have no idea what was wrong with her!" interrupted a loud and familiar voice from behind them.

Batman and J'onn turned in unison towards the door to see Wally walking towards them backwards, his shoulders still upraised in what had to have been a shrug.

Bruce squared himself to the approaching speedster and readied himself to give the younger man one of his better glares for interrupting him and J'onn in the middle of something important. Wally was a great asset to have, though he would never admit that to him or anyone else, and there were even times when Bruce himself enjoyed the levity that the speedster brought to the League and his life.

But now was definitely not one of those times.

He narrowed his eyes and his jaw became hardened steel as the younger man turned to face him and J'onn.

When Flash finally faced Batman and saw the grim set of the Dark Knight's face, he stopped dead in his tracks and immediately held his arms up in surrender. "Whoa there, Bats," Wally said, his voice a mixture of defensiveness and fear. "I didn't do anything." He stepped to his right to allow Bruce and J'onn to see what was behind him and said, "It's all Diana's fault."

It took all of Bruce's considerable self-control to keep from grinning wildly at the sight before him. After all, it wasn't every day one had the golden opportunity to see the Man of Steel himself covered from chin to waist in what appeared to his trained eyes to be a double chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream. The shake had been so thick that it was still covering the 'S' usually visible on Kent's uniformed chest.

Bruce looked Superman squarely in his blue eyes and said as though he looked perfectly normal covered in the icy beverage, "You're dripping."

Superman glanced down at the floor, and sure enough a single drop of milkshake had succumbed to the Watchtower's artificial gravity and had plummeted to the floor next to his right boot. He looked back up to Batman and sighed. "Diana threw her milkshake and it hit me."

That took Bruce by surprise more than actually seeing Clark in such a state. "She what?" he growled, and the way both Flash and Superman seemed to wilt in response satisfied him immensely.

"She threw her milkshake and it hit me," repeated Superman, and when Batman took a step towards him he felt obligated to point out, "She threw it at Wally who zipped out of the way and it hit me."

Without missing a beat Bruce turned his glare and attention to Wally and said in the same gravelly voice as before, "Why?"

Flash looked to J'onn, then Superman and then finally back to Batman. "Well, you see, I didn't really…" He stopped when Batman took a threatening step towards him and then blurted out, "I didn't say anything really!"

Bruce took another step towards Wally so that he was a mere foot or so away. He narrowed his eyes again and said with that deep, rough voice that he usually reserved for the deadliest of super villains, "What. Did. You. Say!"

Wally actually shuddered at the way Batman emphasized every word so deeply and bared his perfectly white teeth with each word. It reminded him of the incident during the Thanagarian invasion when he'd tried to be helpful by pushing the button on the Hawk's ship and blew a piece of Wayne Manor to dust, to say nothing of scaring the daylights out of poor Jeeves.

"I…might have said…"

"Not 'might have'," snarled Bruce softly as he leaned in closer to Flash. "What exactly did you say?"

Wally gulped down the lump in his throat and thought about speeding away from Bruce. That possible course of action was abandoned quickly though, for Wally knew Batman would find him no matter where he went or how fast he got there.

It really wasn't a good plan.

Finally he sighed and explained as best he remembered, because it was really all a bit of a blur. "I was in the commissary with Superman getting a light snack- you know how it is when you're…" He paused when Batman seemed to take a very measured and deliberate breath, the type of thing that Batman usually did when he was about to go 'all Batman' on someone. "Anyway, as we passed by Fire and Ice's table, I asked Fire when we're going to go out and she just smiled and rolled her eyes. I just shrugged and said to her, 'C'mon Fire, it's not like I can wait forever, you know?'" Wally paused and tried not to squirm under Batman's very intense gaze. He did not succeed. "Anyway we both chuckled and when I turned to walk away Diana was in front of me. She didn't even say anything…just took the milkshake she had in her hand and let it rip. At me! I moved and Supes got it in the chest."

Bruce had been studying Wally for a long time, and from everything he'd learned about the speedster's inflection and body language during those many hours of observation, he could tell he was telling the truth about what had happened. "Is that all?" he said with deadly menace in his voice.

"Yes," Wally managed to squeak out, and as soon as Bruce moved away from him the desire to be anywhere else but near Batman took over and he zoomed out of the room as fast as he could.

Batman watched Wally leave, which took all of one point two seconds, and then turned his attention back to Superman. "Do you have anything to add?" he demanded in a way that meant he better have something more to say.

Superman closed his eyes and thought for a second, recalling the seconds before the impact of the glass on his chest. He'd seen Diana a moment or so before Wally had, and she seemed to be… "Trembling." He opened his eyes and looked to Batman. "She was trembling. But…"

Bruce waited a moment for Clark to say something else, and when the bigger man didn't he prodded him on by saying, "But what?"

Clark sighed. "For the first couple of seconds that I watched her, she seemed to be trembling out of fear, or maybe, maybe it could have been sadness. Then it turned to anger and she was trying to restrain herself. Then it was almost like she snapped and threw her glass at Wally." He hesitated for a second and then added, "Bruce…with the amount of force she threw it, if it had hit Wally…"

Bruce was already way ahead of Clark on that one. "I know," he interrupted curtly, then without another word he turned and strode quickly to the computer. He exited the security program, making a mental note as he did so to alter the program as soon as possible, then opened up the League members' communications logs.

He sensed J'onn approach from his right as well as Clark from behind him, but he remained focused on the information in front of him. He visually scanned the communications logs for the past twenty-four hours, paying particular attention to the League member user codes listed in the 'Received' column. He stopped when he found code 003- it was listed only once- and reviewed the information on the call she'd received.

Usually all official League communications to members had short summaries attached as to their purpose, and the fact that this particular call to Diana was without such a summary meant it wasn't an official League call. A quick glance at the originating source of the call confirmed that- it was a telephone with the area code putting it in an area around Boston.

He typed the number into the computer and information on the number came up within three seconds.

An Old Soldier's Home, thought Bruce as he perused the displayed info, including a vaguely familiar looking address. A retirement home for veterans.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Superman leaned in closer to Batman and asked, "What is it, Bruce?"

Ignoring Clark's question, Bruce focused on the address and after a moment of thought it came to him. That was where Diana went after the League came back from their little time travel adventure, he remembered. They'd beaten Savage and after their return she'd gone to see a spy she'd met named in the past. "Steve Trevor."

"What?" asked Clark with a glance to J'onn, who seemed to understand what Bruce was talking about.

Bruce typed in a query on Steve Trevor as he explained. "The American spy Diana and J'onn met and helped when you and the rest of the League were sent back in time to World War II." He waited for the computer to complete its search to verify what he suspected, which it did a moment later. "Since nineteen ninety-eight he's been a resident of a retirement home for U.S. military veterans near Boston." He turned to face J'onn and Clark, and when he spoke again his voice held a note of respect and reverence. "Last night he died in his sleep."

"I remember now," said Superman softly. "Diana said he called her 'Angel'."

Bruce nodded automatically despite the fact he had not been aware of that tidbit of information, and had to work hard to push down the bubble of jealousy that rose in his chest because of it. "According to the home's database," he said as though it hadn't surprised or bothered him, "he never married and had no family. Diana was listed as his emergency contact."

The three Leaguers stood in silence for nearly a minute before Clark looked to his friends with a half smile. "I'll go get cleaned up," he said as he turned to leave, "and then I'll go talk to Diana."

"No." The word had escaped past Bruce's lips before he'd even had the chance to think about clamping them shut. He didn't need to be a telepath to know that he'd caught Superman off guard with the comment- the look of utter shock on his friend's face when he whirled around would have been visible to a blindfolded person in a darkened room. He took a few seconds and then started to walk to the door, saying as he breezed past Superman, "I will."

He sailed through the door and kept up a brisk pace through the corridors, hoping against hope that Clark had taken the hint and would leave him …

"Batman!"

…alone.

Bruce kept walking, trusting that if Clark really wanted to catch up with him, he could easily do so without him needing to slow down.

Sure enough half a dozen paces after hearing Clark call his name he had to come to an abrupt halt or risk running head long into the Boy Scout.

"What do you want, Superman?" Bruce asked icily and with narrowed eyes.

Clark hesitated for a second, unsure of how to broach the subject with Batman. In the end, Clark knew the blunt truth would be the only way. "I don't think you're the right person to talk to Diana," he said in carefully measured tones, all too aware of the way Batman's eyes narrowed another millimeter with each syllable.

"Really?" asked Bruce, his low baritone nearly freezing the short distance between them. "And who is, Clark? You?" Bruce edged closer to Clark by a step and said with more of the same coolness. "I think I'm familiar enough with the concept of personal loss to talk to her," he said. To himself he added, And it may be the perfect opportunity to show Diana what it would feel like if we got together and I died.

Bruce could see that Clark was doubtful, but anything he was about to do or say was interrupted by the comm. in his ear. He reached up and pressed the device and said, "Go ahead, J'onn."

'Alfred has called the Watchtower,' said J'onn without any sort of preamble. 'He said there is an emergency at the manor and that he needs you to return at once.'

Alarm bells instantly began ringing in his mind and without any hesitation he set off past Superman in a dead run for the teleporter, his scalloped cape billowing behind him. "Alfred called and said there's an emergency at the manor," he explained when Superman flew up next to him. To press the enormity of the situation upon his friend he added, "He wouldn't call unless it was something serious."

They rounded the turn and entered the main staging area of the Watchtower. Bruce took the stairs up to the teleporter pad three at a time as Clark settled onto the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Bruce handled the teleport duties himself, entering the coordinates to the Batcave and setting enough of a delay to step to a pad and say to Superman, "You'll have to handle Diana."

Bruce was just able to hear Superman say, "I don't think she'd like to be handled…" before the teleporter engaged and he found himself in the familiar expanse of the Batcave. As expected, the only man he truly and completely trusted without any reservation at all was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs that led up into the manor.

He jogged towards Alfred, and Bruce couldn't help but notice that everything about the butler- his posture, his face, his attire- were as they would have been on any other normal day.

"What's the emergency, Alfred?" demanded Batman when he came to a stop before the older man.

Alfred's right eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch at the younger man's tone. "I believe the image on the computer screen will enlighten you, Master Bruce."

It was possibly the last thing Bruce had expected to hear from Alfred, so he forgave himself the two point three seconds it took him to turn around and look at the big screen.

"How long has she been here?" he asked with his eyes glued to the monitor.

On the screen was a live color picture, shunted via a super-secure wifi signal from the perfectly hidden high resolution security camera in the sitting room, of Diana. She was sitting, dressed in full Wonder Woman uniform, in the large overstuffed chair in front of the unlit fireplace. She was leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped together in front of her, her long raven locks cascading down her back and her blue eyes staring into the fireplace as if mesmerized by dancing flames that weren't there.

"She arrived approximately fifteen minutes ago, sir," replied Alfred, his voice steady but laced with concern. "She seemed quite not herself, sir."

Bruce studied the image before him, caught up for an instant in her enchanting beauty and then gave his faithful friend a nod. "She lost someone very close to her last night."

Alfred nodded as well as he said, "Indeed, sir. It appears as though she regarded Mr. Trevor very highly."

"She told you about him?" inquired Bruce as he headed towards the changing rooms.

Alfred followed Bruce to the door and said loudly enough to be heard, "Only briefly, sir."

Bruce stripped out of his costume, all the while steeling himself for what lay ahead of him. When he stepped out of the locker room a few minutes later, Alfred was waiting for him, and years of practice reading Alfred's facial expressions told Bruce to be ready.

As was usually the case, Alfred did not disappoint.

"I trust, Master Bruce," said the aged butler with a hint of steel in his voice that still made Bruce inwardly cringe, "that you will treat your guest with the utmost courtesy."

Bruce stopped and regarded Alfred more closely. There was something about the way Alfred had said 'your guest'.

"She is hurt and seeking comfort, Master Bruce," continued Alfred without missing a beat, "from someone she trusts and cares about." Alfred looked into Bruce's eyes. "Please do not use that to your advantage."

Bruce felt his eyes widen in surprise, and cursed himself when the corners of Alfred's mouth turned downwards in a disapproving frown. He should have known the man who knew him best would have realized what he'd have planned to do.

"Please follow me, Master Bruce," said Alfred a second later in a tone of voice Bruce had heard more when he was a mischievous adolescent than in recent years. It was the tone of voice that left no quarter; that left no room for negotiation; and left him absolutely no choice.

He obeyed automatically and found himself once again staring at the computer's big screen.

"She loves you, Master Bruce," stated Alfred with all the pizzazz of a butler telling the master of the house that they were out of milk. "And you can not deny that you feel the same for her."

Bruce allowed himself to bathe in the beauty on the screen for a moment before answering. "You know it's not that simple, Alfred."

"Of course not, Master Bruce," replied Alfred with a sympathetic nod. "But it is not as hard as you make it out to be either."

"Alfred," began Bruce with a note of warning in his voice, but Alfred interrupted him.

"Bruce, I have raised you for more than thirty years, and you have learned all that I've tried to teach you." Alfred shook his head sadly at the screen. "In fact, I truly fear that you have learned the worst from me as well, the worst about love and relationships." Alfred turned his head to look at Bruce. "Perhaps it is time that you looked to your father as more than a justification for your nocturnal activities. Perhaps you should look to him for inspiration and knowledge about love."

Alfred was laying it all on the line, and Bruce could appreciate what it meant for older man. Alfred had been his father for most of his life, yet he rarely reminded Bruce of it. And to bring his father up in such a way…

Bruce took a deep breath and let it escape his mouth slowly. "Gotham needs Batman, Alfred."

Alfred sighed, and for an instant Bruce saw the exhaustion that came with such knowledge in the older man's eyes, though it was quickly masked. "Your father was a great man, Bruce. He was a brilliant doctor, businessman and philanthropist. He was a kind and loving man, and a dear friend." Alfred paused for a heartbeat or two. "Tell me, Bruce, do you ever remember your father being too busy for you or your mother?"

Bruce thought back to those memories, those hazy images in his mind as seen through the eyes of a child. They were incomplete he knew, and the details had lost their luster as the years had passed, but…

"No," he finally replied, albeit with some hesitation.

Alfred nodded in agreement. "As busy as he was, as much as he was able to do for Gotham and her people, as much as he was able to build for you, he still found the time to love your mother…and you."

"It's different for me, Alfred," responded Bruce, though he could hear the weakness in his own voice.

"Is it, Bruce?" asked Alfred so quietly that only the soft echo of his voice in the cave allowed Bruce to hear it. The butler reached over and, with hands that had done so many extraordinary things over the years and stood the test of time, pressed several buttons on the computer console. When he completed his work, he stood up straight, clasped his hands behind his back and regarded his handiwork.

Bruce was regarding it as well. Up on the screen, the picture no longer showed the entire sitting room. Nor, to Bruce's regret, did it show Diana. Instead Alfred had zoomed the image in and panned upward so that all that could be seen was the portrait of his parents that resided in perpetual reverence above the fireplace.

In the portrait his parents were standing with his mother, clad in a beautiful yet simple red dress, cuddled into his father's right side. His father's right arm went around her shoulders in a loving embrace, while his free hand held his mother's tenderly in front of them. His father was wearing a dark suit which somehow managed to bring the out color in his mother's dress even more, not to mention the bright blue of his eyes. What was most striking about the portrait however, was the joy and love their faces exuded.

They look so happy, sighed Bruce to himself. It was the first thing that had always struck him, and most likely always would strike him, about that particular portrait and of all the portraits of his parents adorning the walls of the manor, they looked the happiest in this one. He'd always suspected that that was why Alfred had chosen to hang that one there.

Alfred gently cleared his throat to get Bruce's attention and then said, "They look so happy, do they not Bruce?"

Not surprised that Alfred had been able, once again, to discern his thoughts Bruce agreed with a nod.

"You are more alike than even you realize, Bruce," said Alfred, his voice conveying pride and satisfaction with that fact. "I am about to share with you one of the very last secrets I have hidden, Bruce." When Bruce turned to him, wide-eyed not with surprise but with extreme curiosity, Alfred permitted himself a very small and very brief smirk. "I do still have a few." After a moment he returned his attention to the screen. "There was a time, Bruce, when your father also wondered if love was something he could afford."

Bruce quickly turned to look at the smiling image of his father, searching for some not before seen hint at unhappiness. He scanned and studied the portrait as he'd done a hundred times before using all of his analytical skills and deductive reasoning, yet the end result was the same as it had always been: they were a happy and loving couple.

"It wasn't long after your father had met your mother," said Alfred as he continued to look at the screen, his voice soft and gentle as one's voice was prone to be when speaking of very old memories. "He simply adored her from the first moment he'd laid his eyes upon her." Alfred turned to Bruce and smiled. "And the feeling was quite mutual."

Bruce nodded and waited, knowing more was forthcoming.

"It didn't take them long to fall in love," Alfred continued with a hint of happiness in his voice. "Yet despite their love, your father was torn between her and…"

"Gotham," said Bruce, and for the first time in his life he spoke the name of his beloved city with a hint of disdain.

"Gotham," confirmed Alfred wearily. "The demands on his time were extraordinary." Alfred stepped a few inches to his right and placed his hands on the back of the chair Bruce usually sat in. "He was a renowned doctor with any number of requests for his extraordinary services on any given day. Then of course there were the other ways that he supported Gotham through charities and such, to say nothing of the business he had built. It was all very time consuming, and needless to say physically and emotionally draining."

Sounds familiar, thought Bruce with an inward chuckle that held no humor in it at all.

"I suspect that sounds somewhat familiar to you," said Alfred, and when Bruce turned to the older man there was something like a sneaky smile on his lips. It disappeared in short order and Alfred continued on as though the little moment hadn't happened. "One night your father had come to the realization that he could not afford to love anyone, not even the woman who would eventually be your mother." Alfred sighed heavily into the cave. "And he was going to tell her so."

Bruce felt like collapsing. If anyone but Alfred had been telling him these things he wouldn't have believed them. As it was it had occurred to him that perhaps Alfred had been fabricating the whole thing to teach him a lesson, but the thought was instantly and easily dismissed. Alfred simply wouldn't lie to Bruce about his parents.

Period.

"Did he?" asked Bruce a moment later. He turned to look at Alfred and was once again surprised to find a smile on his butler's lips.

"Indeed," replied Alfred, "in what turned out to be a grand spectacle from all accounts."

"Excuse me?" said Bruce.

"Your mother," replied Alfred, "did not take your father's reasoning for ending their relationship well. Your father had taken her to dinner, hoping that she would see the 'logic'," Bruce could here Alfred's implied quotes around the word, "and accept it. She did not, even going so far as to loudly proclaim her love for him and then kissing him passionately in front of a large and, dare I say, enthusiastic audience." Alfred's right eyebrow rose a quarter of an inch in amusement as he said, "I suspect your mother may have been an Amazon in spirit, if not in fact."

"What happened, Alfred?" asked Bruce, hungry for more details than that.

"Your father realized that he could indeed have it all, Bruce," replied Alfred, and for the first time there was a minute hint of desperation in the butler's voice. "He realized that he could do what he needed to do for Gotham and have love at the same time, as long as it was your mother's love." Alfred's eyes peered into Bruce's, hoping to see the same realization in the son that he had seen in the father so many years ago. "It was all about your mother, Bruce, and how strong and loving she was. With her and her love, your father could do anything- perhaps even everything."

Bruce turned away from Alfred's intense scrutiny and found the smiling faces of his parents again. For some reason that escaped him, they looked even happier than they had before.

"You are every bit the man your father was, Bruce," said Alfred with generous and unwavering pride. "You have saved countless lives and done more for Gotham than even your father had dreamed to be possible."

Bruce blinked a moment later when the picture unexpectantly disappeared and the screen again showed Diana in the sitting room, sitting in the same exact same position as she'd been when he'd arrived.

"If you have ever taken my word for anything," said Alfred softly, "take it for this: that glorious creature waiting for you upstairs is every bit the woman your mother was. Together you can do anything." Alfred paused for a second before saying, "Perhaps even everything."

Alfred reached down and tapped a button on the keyboard to bring up a standard map of Gotham and then stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back. "Now, Master Bruce," he said, his voice void of everything but utter professionalism, "I am heading upstairs to prepare some refreshments for Miss Diana. Shall I prepare something for you as well?"

Bruce looked into Alfred's eyes, and found no hint of the man who had just spoken to him so freely- so intimately- about his parents. "Yes, Alfred. Thank you."

"Yes, sir," replied Alfred as he turned and headed for the stairs.

Just as Alfred reached the bottom step Bruce said, "Alfred?" When the older man turned to look at him Bruce gave his friend- his father- a warm smile. "Thank you for everything."

Alfred gave Bruce the most fleeting of smiles. "It has been and always will be my pleasure, sir."

Bruce watched as Alfred moved up the stairs and he sighed as Alfred's words echoed in his head as they would in a cave. He'd known Alfred a long time- all his life as a matter of fact- and he could count on one hand the number of times he'd known the man to be wrong about something.

Bruce leaned forward and typed Steve Trevor's name into the computer. In a matter of seconds classified government files were displayed on the screen: health records, income tax reports and service record.

Bruce studied the screen, his admiration of the man growing with each chapter of Trevor's life so that when he'd finished he couldn't help but be impressed. He closed out the files and moved towards the stairs.

He thought about Diana as he climbed the stairs, not the least bit concerned with his footing after having made the journey hundreds of times at all manners of speed.

He loved her with an absoluteness that was rivaled only by his certainty that he would break her heart of he allowed himself to indulge in it. From the moment he'd come to that realization, he'd resolved to never let it happen, to never give himself the opportunity to hurt her. Now, because of Alfred- and his parents- he wasn't sure what to believe.

He soundlessly entered the sitting room and came to an silent if abrupt stop at the sight before him. Diana had risen from the chair and taken a step towards the fireplace. She had her hands clasped behind her back and her head was tilted upward so that she could see the portrait of his parents above the fireplace. The glow that emanated from the admiration in her eyes and the fullness of her smile was rivaled only by the glow of the lasso that hung from her hip.

He remained still and quiet as death itself as he watched her, and if the sight of her on the screen in the Batcave had enchanted him then the sight of her in person simply took his breath away.

"Steve was a very special person," announced Diana out of the blue.

For a blink of an eye he wasn't even convinced that she was talking to him. He hadn't done anything or made any noise that would have given away his presence when he'd walked in, and he been as silent as a shadow as he'd watched her.

Then again, Diana did seem to have the ability to know where he was a good part of the time. Usually it was a very unnerving characteristic of her for him, but he had to admit that it had come in handy once or twice on the battlefield.

His eyes flicked up to the portrait for an instant as he said, "Yes he was," replied Bruce. Despite the fact that he'd read Trevor's files and developed his own sense of respect for the man, he knew what Diana had said was true simply because she believed it and he trusted her with his entire soul. "I'm…sorry, for your loss."

Diana turned her head so that she could look at him. Her smile displayed nothing but gratitude for his sentiment. "Thank you." She turned her body so that she was completely facing him, leaving her hands joined behind her. "Steve led a long and fulfilling life. He always told me that time wasn't something to be trifled with." Diana's lips formed a wry smile as she said, "Having come from an island of immortal warriors I always laughed it off when he did." Her smile disappeared and turned into a melancholy frown. "But even during those times I could see the truth in it. Yet he never complained and always basked in the positives in his life. That is how I'll remember him."

Bruce nodded in understanding and his heart began beating just a little more rapidly in his chest. She was fine, he realized. Sad that she'd lost a true friend, but otherwise fine.

"They look so happy," whispered Diana as she turned back to the portrait above the fireplace. She'd spoken so softly that he wouldn't have heard her if she hadn't been the absolute center of his universe right at that moment. She brought her hands around to the front of her body to hug herself, and her voice was only marginally louder when she added, "So in love."

She looked to him again and said, "Time truly is fleeting isn't it, Bruce?" Her smile morphed into something that perfectly embodied sadness. "For all of us." She turned back towards the fireplace and once again looked to the smiling faces in permanent residence above the fireplace. "But you would know that better than most."

Bruce didn't respond to her comment, choosing instead to quietly move so that he was standing behind her. He looked past her shoulder to his parents, and though he knew it to be impossible he was equally sure he could see his mother's eyes urging him on.

He froze, his habitual reservations against giving into his love for Diana coming to the surface with its usual overriding force. Yet even as the cautious hesitation set it, his eyes lost focus of his mother's as flashes of unbidden and long forgotten memories played in his mind: the three of them on a picnic in the back yard; he and his father in the stables preparing to mount their favorites horses; getting kissed on the forehead by both his parents as he lay in bed; and last but not least a memory of following his father around Wayne Enterprises, his father patiently explaining the company's many endeavors as they strolled along. Bruce had had that memory before, but now there was an addition to it- he remembered his father being asked a question by someone, an important question about an acquisition of some sort, and after a moment of thought, his father looked down to him and asked him what his opinion was. Having been all of seven years old, Bruce hadn't quite known what to say, yet whatever it was that he'd ended up saying was carefully considered by his father. When he'd sent the man away with his answer, his father had looked at him with a kindly smile and thanked him for his good advice.

Bruce's eyes refocused on the portrait and his gaze drifted from his mother over to his father. Slowly, his lips formed a smile that blazed a trail all the way down into his chest and into his heart. He reached towards Diana, and wasn't surprised when she didn't tense or start when his fingertips grazed her bare shoulders.

Bruce let his hands become accustomed to the warmth of her flawless skin on his hands for a moment, and then slowly moved them down along the outsides of her upper arms. He edged his body forward as his hands reached her bent elbows, gently pressing his chest and stomach against Diana's back. His hands slid forward along her forearms and the indestructible bracelets until they covered her hands.

As Diana spread her slender fingers apart enough to allow his to interlace with them, Bruce leaned his head forward to let his chin gently rest upon her left shoulder to complete their embrace. After a moment Diana tilted her head back until her head lay upon Bruce's broad shoulder, her contented sigh an identical twin to the one Bruce released only a second later.

For the first time in a very long time, with a beautiful and loving Amazon in his arms and his parents watching over him, Bruce felt as though everything was right in his world. Only one thing was missing.

Diana's head turned towards his enough to nuzzle her cheek against his, though her eyes remained focused on the portrait of the man and woman who she'd never met yet owed so much to.

"I love you, Bruce," she whispered into the very minute space between them.

Bruce smiled and replied without hesitation, "I love you too, Princess."

Diana slowly moved her head farther to her right and turned so that she could see Bruce. Likewise, Bruce moved his head to the left and turned his head so that he could see Diana. So much played out in their eyes: Bruce could see a future that he hadn't dared believe to be possible, just as Diana could see a future she had hoped for for so long.

Ever so slowly they drifted towards each other, their eyes closing and lips parting in perfect synchronicity until they touched in a kiss so sweet both nearly moaned in delight. Their mouths moved against each other languorously at first, slowly building into a passionate kiss that left them both breathless and heated to their respective cores by the time it ended.

They gazed into each other's eyes once again, both trying to determine if what was happening between them was real or something else.

"Not that I'm complaining," Diana managed once her breathing evened out, "but what changed?"

Bruce took in a deep breath and slowly released it. "When Alfred told me you were here, I had every intention of using Steve's death to show you why you and me having a relationship would be a bad thing." Bruce noted the way Diana's eyes softened, not in surprise but in a way that told him that she'd been expecting it. He pressed on. "But Alfred told about my father and how he could do so much and have love in his life."

"He's a wise man," said Diana, her voice thick with emotion.

"Yes he is," replied Bruce as Diana faced the portrait again and cuddled her cheek against his again.

"Tell me about them?" she asked after a moment of silence.

Bruce nodded and started caressing Diana's hands. He couldn't help but smile as he said, "What would you like to know?"

Diana's smile matched Bruce's as she said, "Everything."

End.