Diana watched Bruce's back as he walked away, draining the rest of her champagne. Alcohol had never held much appeal for her on Themyscira. While it was argued that the island had some of the finest wine on the planet, aged to perfection over the course of thousands of years, it never interested her. Life had been dull and safe on the island. Drinks accompanied every feast, and celebratory feasts accompanied every hunt. But what was there to celebrate? Another day of successful survival? Hardly. The Amazon lifestyle was not an easy one, but as the Queen's daughter, Diana knew that she had never been in the slightest danger.

Man's world was a different story. Here, she faced every imaginable peril in her new capacity of public defender. As an ambassador to the United Nations, she faced and conquered just as many great challenges. There was plenty to celebrate, and yet she'd never found the time to appreciate any of it. She'd become so engrossed in her newfound responsibilities that she'd neglected herself. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd been to a social event. But tonight would be different. She may have failed romantically, but she could still make the most of the night.

'Men.' She grumbled. And she'd chosen to pursue the most stubborn of them all of them. But there was no denying that that was part of his appeal. His determination made him unique among all the people that she'd encountered since leaving the island. She'd never met anybody else so willing to put themselves on the line for the greater good. For the first few years that she'd known him, she'd mistaken it for simple masochism. What else could drive a mere mortal to man to do the things that he did, in that dress, no less? But as the League had grown more tightly knit, she'd begun to suspect that there was more to his story. She was no fool; he hadn't been able to conceal his identity for very long. Bruce Wayne had stood out to her in their very first meeting. It only took several minutes to match the build and voice of her colleague. This provided her with another mystery; why? She'd gathered that he was wealthy, based on the resources that he had provided to the League. But somebody like Bruce Wayne? She never would have anticipated it, had she not had a good deal of experience working with Batman. Bruce Wayne seemed as normal as a billionaire could possibly be; suave and charming, yet irritating and egotistical all at the same time. So maybe Bruce Wayne and Batman weren't so different after all.

As she became more fascinated with the workings of Man's World, he in particular caught her attention. As she learned more, she understood better. She learned the source of his emotional troubles; the loss of his parents as a young boy. This was the last piece Diana needed to grasp his worldview. He had dedicated himself to protecting others, using himself as a human shield so that others would never be unlucky enough to share in his pain. Such altruism was rare, even within the League. Whereas others had been called on for their services, he'd stepped up to the plate of his own accord.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a speaker system crackling to life. She turned to see Bruce, standing behind a large podium in front of the crowd. She grabbed another glass of champagne, and turned to listen as his deep voice boomed throughout the hall.

At her first arrival, mankind's shortcomings had been rather difficult for Diana to accept. Given her background, she was no stranger to violence. The gods that had given her life were known for their regular bouts and arguments, but the pettiness of their squabbles couldn't even come close to that of mankind. Gotham epitomized this notion. Crime ran rampant. murder and rape on the streets, and swindling and cheating in the banks. People were killed over the most minor of squabbles on a regular basis. Just knowing that such a place existed had disillusioned her more than a little bit.

But hearing Bruce talk about the city that he saw was a completely different story. The city that he described couldn't be more different from the one that she saw on the surface. He spoke of an end to the mobs that choked the life out of Gotham's people, and bright futures for the city's children. It was this side of him that enthralled her; the side that he tried so hard to keep hidden while wearing the cowl. Relentless optimism. He truly believed, against all odds, that he could fix this hell on Earth, and he wouldn't hear otherwise. And when he said it so passionately, she believed him.

As she clapped with the rest of the crowd, Diana began to feel slightly woozy. She sat down on a nearby chair, tightly gripping her drink. 'Maybe I should slow down for a bit…' But before the thought was even completed, it was drowned out, as though a large sheet had draped over it. Absently, she took another sip. She then noticed a sensation that she'd been feeling for a while, but hadn't heeded. She felt… Different. Not that she wasn't feeling herself; quite the contrary. She felt more herself than she'd ever been. Diana had never been one to hold back because of fear. Or at least, that's what she'd thought previously. Now, despite her hazy vision, she could see more clearly than ever. She could see that she'd been holding herself back all along. Well no more. She stood up, carefully adjusting her dress. 'Time for round two.' She thought determinedly as she marched toward Bruce again.

"How'd I do?" Bruce grinned at his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and his young ward and protege, Tim Drake.

"An excellent speech, Sir. I was quite moved, as I'm sure were the donors. However, I'm afraid that it seems that may be the least of your worries." Alfred gestured over Bruce's shoulder.

Bruce turned in time to see a tall mass of blue headed directly for him, a half-full champagne bottle clenched firmly in her left hand. "Oh dear." He mumbled under his breath. He could see that Diana's steps were less than even as she made her way over to him. Nonetheless, she was making a rather impressive clip.

"Hey there, little guy. Whaddaya say we *HIC*." 'Not a bad start.' Diana thought to herself, feeling somewhat satisfied, despite not having said much of anything at all. She clapped an arm over his shoulder, wrapping it around his neck tightly, as though she were trying to keep him in a headlock. 'So. Lishen.' She paused, as though waiting for him to speak. After a moment, she remembered that she had been the one talking. "Lishen. We've been doing cat and mouse for a while now. I'm done." She slightly tightened her grip around Bruce's neck. "Soooo… This is going somewhere. Right now. Or I'm going to go out into that room right now and find somebody else. Ya dig?"

Bruce reeled."Ya dig?' He thought to himself. There was no question about it now. He'd clearly misjudged Diana's capacity for alcohol. He'd assumed that she would be able to hold her liquor fairly well, given her height. But here she was, drunk as a sailor on his first day in port. And somehow, she was still holding all the cards. He had to admit, she hid it well. She still carried herself with some degree of grace despite her uneven steps, and her face was covered by a light blush. Aside from her slurred speech, the average person might not have noticed. That's what he would have to count on.

His mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan of action. A drunk Wonder Woman loose in Wayne Manor was not something that he'd made contingency plans for; a grave error in retrospect, and one that he would have to correct in the near future. In the meantime, he'd have to make do. This crowd finding out that Diana was drunk was a public relations disaster at best, and outright dangerous at the worst. If she was planning to go out flirting, he could count on the worst, for multiple reasons. He didn't know how well she could contain her strength in her current state, and he had no desire to find out. The easiest solution would be to remove her from the room. However, he couldn't think of a better way to blow his secret identity than to be seen disappearing from an event with a known superhero. He glanced over at Tim, who was valiantly trying but failing miserably to suppress laughter at Bruce's expense. He subtly motioned for Tim to come closer. "Code 42." Bruce whispered.

Tim stared at him in shock. "Are you sure about that, Bruce? Why?"

"Never you mind. Just activate protocol 42. You have 3 minutes."

Tim paused, mentally scrolling through Bruce's secret plans, and then started laughing again. "Really? All that to avoid a dat-"

"Two and a half minutes." Bruce hissed. Tim gave a snappy salute, and dashed away. Now there was only one thing left to take care of. He turned to Diana, putting on his most charming smile. "Care to dance, madame?"

Diana shook a finger in his face aggressively. "Now lishen here, I'll have you know that-" Her expression softened as his unexpected offer sunk in. "Why yesh. Yesh I would."

Bruce led her to the center of the dance floor, and began to lead a slow waltz. They attracted some stares, but that was something that he hoped to fix. Bruce was rather impressed by how well Diana followed his steps. Even as drunk as she was, her reaction time was so fast that it was nearly impossible to tell who was leading.

Bruce watched out of the corner of his eye as Tim addressed Alfred. Perfect. The plan would be somewhat messy, but he was making the most of what he had. The important thing was to get Diana out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. Which, of course required something much more conspicuous to mask the situation. This came in the form of a loud, mechanical roar from directly outside of the manor. The reaction in the room was as instantaneous and chaotic as he could have hoped for. Most people instinctively dove under tables, while the braver and more foolhardy of the bunch crowded around the window, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever had caused the noise.

Diana's first reflex was to spring in to action, but Bruce grabbed her by the wrist as she started to take off, ready to barrel through the wall. He shook his head silently, motioning towards the door. Even in her drunken state, she recognized the urgency in his gesturing, and followed him. Nobody paid attention to them darting out of the room as Alfred shouted over the speaker system, urging everybody to remain calm and drop to the floor for their own safety. As Diana was pulled along, she just barely saw the Batjet jetting directly towards the moon, having narrowly avoided the side of the manor in it's pursuit of some imaginary foe.

Bruce didn't stop in the hallway; he continued dragging her along until they were well out of range of the main hall.

"Sheesh…" Diana stumbled slightly, struggling to maintain her balance as they ground to a halt. "What'sh the hurry? You could just ask, you know."

"Diana, you're drunk. Really drunk."

"Whaaaaaaattttttt?" Diana's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Naaaah. I partied with Dionysus himself, you know." She let out a wide yawn. "I wouldn't suggest it, actually. 'Less centaurs are your thing. I won't judge, though."

Bruce ignored her ramblings and led her to the door of the guest room across from his own master bedroom. Just close enough that he'd be able to keep an eye on her. "Come on. You should get to bed. I don't know if Amazons get hangovers, but you should rest anyway." He opened the door, revealing a large, cozy-looking canopy bed. "Now come on, get to bed."

Diana was tempted to resist, but she could feel a sudden sleepiness kicking in, and the bed looked awfully comfortable. She kicked off her high heels, and complacently staggered toward the bed. As she stood in front of the bed, she stooped and stared at Bruce for a moment. "Well?" She looked at him quizzically. "You coming or what?"

Bruce didn't fluster easily, but he had to struggle to prevent his cheeks from reddening visibly. For a fleeting fraction of a second, he was tempted to say yes. He squashed the impulse as quickly and thoroughly as he could. It would be wrong when she was sober, never mind like this. He remained silent. Diana shrugged nonchalantly. "Your loss." She spread her arms and fell backwards towards the bed. As she fell, Bruce realized just a second too late that he'd made another rather serious miscalculation.

"Diana, don't-" He attempted to shout out a warning, but he was too late. There was a loud sound of wood splintering and shattering. Bruce could only watch helplessly as the bed split in the middle. The canopy collapsed in on itself, burying Diana in a shroud of thick, velvet curtains. The dust settled, but the sheets remained motionless. Bruce hurried over and began to throw the curtains aside. After a brief moment of searching, he found her. She was lying completely motionless in the middle of the pile of rubble that had been a luxurious bed only minutes ago. He attempted to feel her wrist for a pulse, but was thwarted by her thick bracers. Mentally slapping himself for being stupid, he placed two fingers under her jawline. He breathed a sigh of relief upon feeling a strong, steady pulse. She'd only passed out, likely before she'd even hit the bed. He'd seen her go toe-to-toe with Darkseid, and hadn't really expected her to be seriously injured, but he couldn't help worrying on some level. It was simply in his nature.

He stepped back, putting a hand to his forehead. Now he had another problem. He had a drunk Wonder Woman passed out in his guest room. To most people that wouldn't seem like such a bad thing, but he wasn't most people. He mulled over his options once again. He couldn't leave her there, and there was no way to get her to the nearest guest bedroom two wings over without risking attracting attention. By now people would have assumed that Wonder Woman had left to assist with whatever situation Batman was dealing with, which would be immediately disproved if she was seen in the manor again, passed out. There was nothing for it.

He gently reached down to lift her, placing one arm under her shoulders, and the other under her knees. She was heavier than she looked. With how graceful she usually was, it was sometimes easy to forget that she was over six feet of solid muscle. Still, his years of physical training made her comparatively to lift. He gingerly carried her across the hall to the master bedroom. Without turning on the light, he carefully placed her on his bed.

He then turned to the linen closet, withdrawing several blankets and pillows, which he placed on the floor next to the bed. He wasn't looking forward to a night on the floor by any means, but he'd slept in far worse conditions. He gently lifted Diana's lower body, sliding the covers out from under her. Doing his best not to crumple her dress, he carefully slid the comforter over her.

She looked even more serene than usual. Despite the events of several moments ago, her hair was neat, and her skin unblemished. Bruce had to admit to himself once again that she was quite beautiful, and the rosy hue that her cheeks had taken on didn't hurt. He was used to shutting himself down. But would it hurt to let his guard down for one second? Just a little bit? How could it?

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Goodni-HRK!"

Without warning, he felt a tightness around his neck. His tie was tightening around his neck, threatening to cut of his air supply. At the other end of the tie was Diana, smiling innocently as she tugged lightly on the garment. "Gotcha." She she whispered. Without warning, she yanked on the tie, forcing him to come closer to her or be choked. She closed the gap between them, stealing a quick kiss. She grinned cockily for a moment at his stunned expression, before going in again for a longer, more passionate kiss. He didn't resist. On the contrary, Diana felt his tongue tentatively poking around her mouth. For somebody who'd had so much experience, it felt like it was his first time. Still, she enjoyed it all the same. She knew that for him, such a small reaction was a big step, and a sign that she had a foot in the door.

Satisfied, she let go of his tie and fell back onto the bed. "G'night." She yawned, falling asleep as though nothing had happened.

Bruce's mind was blank. He stood stock-still for a full minute before his brain whirred back to life. He felt as though he'd been swept up in a whirlwind of insane emotions. He had no idea how he should be feeling. He was caught somewhere between morbid fear of having compromised his feelings, and wild elation that the same feelings had been acknowledged and returned in such a grand fashion. His face seemed to be compromising, stuck somewhere between a mortified stare and a goofy grin.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to calm down. He'd deal with it in the morning, if Diana even remembered anything, which was seeming fairly unlikely by this point. Straightening the bedding he'd laid out for himself, he settled in to sleep. "Goodnight, Princess."

A/N: Well, there's my sap quota for the year. Enjoy it while it lasts. I've been blocked on FOTD, but I think that this might have given me the break I needed. I had some key dramatic moments that I needed to give more power to, and I think that I've figured it out. You guys are going to hate me for that. But anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed this story. It was something pretty different for me, but I think that it came out well all things considered. Anyway, hope that some of you can take a moment to review. I feel like there are definitely some things here that could be better, and I'm fairly certain that my grammar wasn't 100% here.