#stepstothealtar

[saultnpeppah]

Day 8: The Morning After

Once upon a time, there was an event called "Steps to the Altar" and although young Sault had taken part in this event, she soon fell behind in her work, leaving this last chapter unfinished, forgotten in drafts hidden in the depths of her computer. But then, one day, from the recesses of her mind, came inspiration to finish this, giving a sexy ending any WonderBat fan would love. So it is with great honor that I share this ending.

Haha, sorry y'all. I promised a Morning After, and now, after months, I have delivered! I hope you like, and I hope you enjoyed this event when it went on.

January 2. Gotham Heights. 08:13.

Diana

I am a married woman. I am now someone's wife. The thought forces my lips into a smile as I shift in bed, my arms reaching to stretch over the empty mattress my husband was laying in minutes earlier. A yawn escapes my lips as I continue to stretch, trying to ready myself for the day of travel ahead. I would normally make sure to get a good night's sleep before a long flight, but Bruce and I stayed up long into the night, consummating our relationship as a married couple over and over again. The man is insatiable, not that I mind. I love the fact that Bruce can never seem to get enough of me. It drives me wild and he knows this. However, as I stare at our packed suitcases parked right by the door, I wish I could just burrow into the blankets and get a few more hours of sleep, get myself well rested so I can thoroughly enjoy every second of my honeymoon.

"You're up."

I stop mid stretch and turn to face the bathroom, where Bruce stands, leaning against the doorway in nothing but a towel that hangs low on his hips. He is teasing me, trying to get me to take the bait, and as tempting as it is, I would like to be on the plane before noon.

"No," I whisper, "you're seeing things." I turn over and pull the blanket up and over my shoulder. "I'm asleep."

Bruce chuckles. "Well if you're asleep, I suppose I can crawl back into bed with you and recuperate from last night."

I glance over my shoulder and watch as he makes his way to the bed, one of his hands clutching the loose knot on the towel, making sure to keep it secure as he walks. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and bends down, placing his face inches from my own as he stares at me silently. "I love you," he says after a moment, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose.

I flash him a smile and say, "I love you too," before I pull the blanket from my body. There is a look of disappointment on his face when he glances down, saddened to see that I am no longer nude under the covers. "It was cold and I had to get up to pee," I explain, gently tugging on his white undershirt that now covers my breasts and stomach, skimming my thighs as I remain curled in the bed.

"You look wonderful in my clothing," he whispers with a smirk. He places his hand high on my thigh and I let out a gasp at how cold his fingers are despite his scolding shower. He places a kiss on my neck and I don't need to see his face to know he is showing that smug grin he loves to wear, and whispers, "But you look much better without anything on."

I give him a small chuckle, trying to distract my husband from noticing just how much that one kiss can make the need for him to skyrocket. His fingers graze higher on my thigh and I have to bite my lip to keep the moan that threatens to rip from my lips, silent. He moves his hand, letting it disappear under the shirt, smiling as his fingers graze the side of my breast. "We need to get going if we want to make it before dark," I whisper, trying to focus on the words I am speaking rather than how Bruce's fingers are making me feel.

Bruce nods once and moves his wrist, letting the shirt ride up high onto my stomach, exposing more skin for him to tease. "The plane will wait," he says as he drops a kiss to the newly exposed skin on my abdomen. "But right now, I need to have sex with my gorgeous wife."

He catches my lips in a sweet kiss, soft and tender, as his hands continue to move up my body, playfully pulling the shift up and over my body, breaking the kiss momentarily allowing him to pull the shirt over my head and discard it onto the floor beside the bed. "You didn't get enough last night?" I ask with a smug smile.

Bruce shakes his head. "I will never be able to get enough," he says. Once again he captures my lips with his own, only this kiss is different. It is more feverish, more heated. We soon lose ourselves, soon becoming a mix of heated kisses and heavy touches that ignite a passion within our bodies neither of us can put into words.

His hand runs down my side, his fingers delicately dancing along my skin as his lips push harder against mine. I part my lips, letting a small gasp out when his finger caresses the small dip near my hip, which only ignites Bruce more. He removes his lips from mine, a smile on his face as he lowers his head and places a kiss on my collarbone, moving toward my throat. "You're beautiful," he whispers as he dips his head even lower and places another kiss on the side of my left breast.

His hands continue their journey along my body, stopping at my thighs to give a gentle squeeze, which elicits another small gasp. He parts my thighs, his hands grasping my knees, a wicked smirk on his face as his eyes meet mine. "I love you," he whispers, as he leans forward and captures my lips with his once more.

"I love you too," I respond in between kisses. My fingers begin a journey of their own, trailing down his chest, down to his hips, settling on the loose knot of the towel he wears. I quickly pull on the knot, letting it become undone, before I pull the towel from Bruce's body leaving him as bare as I am. My hands continue their exploration of Bruce's body, stopping only when I grasp him firmly in my hand.

Bruce lets out a small gasp when he feels my hand wrapped around him. He releases one of my knees and runs a finger along my core, biting my lip when he feels just how ready I am for him.

Bruce places a hand firmly on the bed near my head, balancing himself as he pushes into my body, holding back the groan I know threatens to spill from his lips. He leans down to kiss me, letting our lips meld together as our bodies become one. His hips begin a rhythm that soon has me gasping for both breath and his skin, pulling him closer, letting his bare chest collide against mine. My hands wander over his back, gently running over the scarred skin that has endured years of self-abuse. His hand finds my thigh and when I tilt my hips in one swift movement, his fingers dig into the skin as he lets out a gasp.

"You do that again and I won't be able to help myself," he says through gritted teeth, warning me of his impending climax.

I give him a grin and roll my hips once more, daring him to do what he has threatened. This does the trick, as he grabs my hips and pulls me closer, burying himself in me even further, eliciting a sound from my lips no one but Bruce has ever been able to coax out. He smirks when he hears me call his name, knowing his name will be the only name I will say like this, as his hips begin to quicken their movements.

Without warning my body tightens around Bruce. He continues his movements, watching as I hit that delicious peak and enjoy the climb down, before he buries his head into the crook of my shoulder, biting down as he enjoys his own orgasm.

When he is finished he hovers over me, looking into my eyes, trying to remain as motionless as possible. Our breathing is labored and although we've both accomplished our goal, neither of us move or make any attempt to separate.

"I love you," he whispers once again, the third time this morning, bending down to give me a sweet kiss before he finally separates our bodies, much to my dismay. "I think I need another shower," he jokes as he lays on the bed beside me, our sweat clad bodies still basking in the after glow of sex.

"I need one first," I say. He turns onto his side and reaches over, letting his finger dance on my bottom lip, before he taps the tip of my nose.

"I suppose I can let you take all the hot water," he says, letting out an overexaggerated sigh.

"Remind me next time to marry someone who can afford more hot water," I joke. Bruce feigns hurt, before he lets out a chuckle, and I sit up, letting out a content sigh. "But we do need to hurry," I say. "Your pilot is going to wonder where we are."

Bruce shrugs. "That's the beauty of owning your own private jet," he says, a bit of arrogance in his voice, "you get to make up the schedule." He looks up at me and takes notice of my deadpanned face. "I'm joking," he says, raising his hands in defense. "We'll get going soon, I promise. That way I can spend our whole honeymoon trying to get my beautiful wife pregnant." He winks and flashes me a smirk as he rises from the bed, getting a towel from the cabinet by the bathroom door.

My gaze follows him, stopping as my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror. My hair is disheveled, there is sweat on my brow, and my cheeks are flushed, but I don't know if it's from the sex or what Bruce has said. The two of us have casually talked about starting a family, but never enough to fully gage Bruce's timeline. I had always assumed he had wanted children eventually, maybe a few years from now, but his comment about wanting to try for a baby now takes me back. Not that I would mind.

"So soon?" I ask.

Bruce nods, a large grin on his face. "I've been thinking about it a lot," he says. He hands me the towel and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "I know we just got married, but a family with you, that's what I want. And don't think I haven't seen the way you stare at babies. You my dear wife, have a case of baby fever."

I cross my arms over my chest and furrow my eyebrows. "I have no idea what you mean," I say, willing my voice not to give away anything.

Bruce places a hand on his chin and pretends to think. "Okay," he says. He snatches his phone from the night stand and flips through a few photos, flashing his screen at me as he shows me the picture of me holding Charlie's baby last night, a wide smile on my face as I held the infant close. "I see the way you are with kids, and I know you've always wanted to be a mother. I just want you to know, I want them too. And whether that's now, or in a few years, I'll wait as long as you need-"

I lean in and kiss Bruce, not needing to hear anything more. This man is literally a dream come true and I can't believe I was too stupid to see it years ago. "This," I say, pulling away from him. "This is what I want."

Bruce nods, understanding what I mean, no matter how vague I am. He leans in and gives me another kiss, slowly moving the hair from my face. I stand from the bed and make my way into the bathroom, jumping into the shower, knowing that whatever we decide, it'll all be worth it.

[fyeahwonderbat]

💍 Steps To the Altar 💍

Day’s 4 theme is “Save the Date”!

Make sure to tag @fyeahwonderbat so I can find your submission and share it with all the lovely WonderBat fans here!

[saultnpeppah]

Day 6: Bachelor(ette) Party

Sorry for the delay. Day 6: Bachelor(ette) Party

December 19. Wayne Manor. 06:11 EST

Diana

The decorations that are hanging within the manor make me smile as I hop down the stairs, pulling a sweatshirt on as I make my way to the front door, where someone is pounding on the heavy piece of wood loudly. I know who is on the other end, and I am happy to see they are early for once, but part of me can't help be frustrated that they interrupted the only morning I've had with Bruce in two weeks.

The wedding is in two weeks and the stress has finally started to catch up as both Bruce and I try our best to finalize the small details. The florist, the band, and the catering are all booked and ready. The dress has been done and is hanging in Alfred's closet away from Bruce's prying eyes, and Donna has assured me a few of her friends here in Gotham will get both the conservatory, where our ceremony will be held, and the ballroom, decorated for the wedding.

The manor has been in Bruce's family for generations, it only made sense to get married here. But instead of the outdoor wedding both his parents and grandparents had, we decided to remain indoors, knowing the cold snowy days of winter would not make our guests comfortable. It was the easiest decision we made.

The only thing that we need to do is tradition, but with all the stress and the wedding only a week after Christmas, it is one I can go without: my Bachelorette party. Donna, and the rest of my bridesmaids, however, did not feel the same, telling me a girl's night out would help relieve some of the stress this wedding was causing. I had only agreed after they promised we wouldn't be doing anything too crazy, seeing as though Christmas was next week and the wedding was a week later.

The knocking continues as I step off the last step, sliding toward the front door, before glancing out of the peephole. My hand grips the door handle and I yank it open, whispering, "You don't need to be that loud."

Donna only giggles and shakes her head, pushing me aside to gain access to the warmth that fills the manor. "It's not like you have neighbors," she says sarcastically.

I only shake my head, watching as Donna removes her coat and hangs it up beside the door, before I turn to watch the other two women step out of the car. Lois closes the driver's side door of her car and tightens her scarf, pulling it up over her nose for the short trek to the open manor door. Beside her is Shayera who, having spent years on the sunny west coast, shivers under her thick jacket. She pulls the hat atop her head further over her ears, trying to warm them, as she rushes past Lois into the manor and out of the cold.

Lois shakes her head, chuckling at the redhead, before she steps inside, moving aside to let me close the door behind her. "Poor woman can't handle the cold," Lois says, pulling the scarf from her mouth, letting it hang loosely around her neck as she pulls off her coat and sets it beside Donna's, who has quickly made her way into the kitchen with Shayera, both needing something to eat to distract from being up this early.

I nod and chuckle. I will never understand why someone who hates the cold as much as Shayera decided to go to college in the east coast where the snow was plentiful and the wind chilled your bones to the point you felt they could snap. "She'll live," I say with a smirk.

Lois chuckles and pulls her phone from her back pocket, checking the time. Alfred steps out from the door leading to the kitchen, a duffle bag in his hands, a smirk on his face. He hands the bag to Lois, who accepts it with a nod and thanks him, watching as he turns on his heel and walks back into the room, most likely shooing Donna and Shayera from the kitchen as they rush out of the room moments after he disappears behind the door.

"What's that?" I ask curiously, although I already know the answer. Although Donna is my maid of honor, Lois has been helping her plan long distance, and none of the four, Charlie included, have told me what they had planned for tonight.

I've tried to pester Charlie at work, trying to get her to spill even the smallest of details, but it was to no avail. Every time Charlie got a text or a call from Lois or Donna she would smirk at me, silently torturing me; I am saddened that she will not be there, but her wife, Laura, has just had a baby, and even though it's been a few weeks, baby Aria had a troubling entrance into the world, so I don't hold it against her. She needs to be home with her wife and daughter, and in all honesty, I'd rather be at her home snuggling that little bundle than doing whatever crazy idea the girls have thought up.

"It's your bag," Lois says with a shrug. "And you will get it when we get to our destination, so you don't know where we're going."

I scoff and shake my head, glancing down at the sweats and sweatshirt that is covering a thin tank top I wear, raising an eyebrow as I pull my hair up into a messy bun. "Can I at least go change?" I ask.

Lois nods. "Yes, but no funny business with Bruce," she warns, "we're going to be late if the two of you can't keep your hands off each other."

Shayera giggles but Donna gags, not wanting to know her sister has a very active sex life. That's probably for the best. "I'll try," I say with a smirk. I begin to bound up the stairs, stopping at the top of the staircase to ask over my shoulder, "What am I supposed to wear?" trying to get one last hint to where we're going.

Shayera shakes her finger, shaming me for my attempt at more information, and says, "Just throw on a tshirt and jeans, Prince." I only nod, watch as Shayera smirks, and jog down the hall to my bedroom. "Don't make me come up there," she calls from downstairs.

I fling the door to the room open to see Bruce step out of the bathroom, wiping a towel over his freshly shaven face. "I assume they're here to kidnap you," he asks, watching as I pull the sweatshirt and tank off at once, leaving the top half of my body bare.

"Yes," is all I say, quickly pulling articles of clothing out from the dresser in the corner of the room. I pull on the clothing, a squeal escaping my lips when I feel Bruce's arms wrap around my waist and pull me up against him, his hand sneaking under the shirt I have just pulled on. "Lois is going to kill you if you make me late," I say, although part of me wants him to risk it. It's been weeks since Bruce and I have had a day off together, and I want nothing more than to shoo the girls away and stay locked up in this room.

"I'm not scared of her," he says in a whisper against my neck and I chuckle.

"You should be," I say, pulling my sweats down and discarding them alongside the other articles of clothing I threw on in my rush to answer the door. "But Shayera is also down there."

Bruce hesitates, freezing his movements that have his hands working circles along my hip. He is all too familiar with Shayera's tactics, after having been the receiver of a punch to the gut our freshman year of college. He now knows better than to test her and her patience. "Fine," he says with a sigh. He places a kiss on the back of my neck, watching as my breath hitches in the back of my throat, before he lets out a raspy laugh of his own. "Go. Have fun," he says, sending me off on his well wishes as he crawls back into bed, wanting to get another few minutes of sleep after the late night we had.

I pull on a pair of jeans and finish my outfit off with a pair of boots, before I lean over and kiss him one last time. With that, I rush out of the room, careful to grab my phone and my purse on the way out, and join the three women downstairs, still cautious about what these three have planned.

XXXXXXXX

December 19. Gotham Rec Center. 12:12 EST

Bruce

"That's game!"

Clark releases his hold on the rim of the basketball hoop, landing on the hardwood floor with a small thud, as Oliver struts up to him and pats his shoulder, beaming with pride. "I believe we won," Oliver says with a grin, giving a high five to Clark and his other teammate, Wally West.

My partner, John Stewart, only shakes his head and curses under his breath. He is not a fan of losing, neither am I. "That's only because you have an extra player," he points out, pointing to Wally, who only raises his hand in surrender, unsure of how he got roped into the game in the first place.

Having met Wally two years prior at a convention in Central City, I was at first put off by his irrepressible personality. He could talk for hours and still not get the point across, and I would find myself toning him out, responding with a nod here and there only to not seem disinterested in what he was saying. But after a day or two, I was won over by his knowledge of forensic anthropology and science, soon creating a friendship over our quick witted banter and thirst for knowledge. Wally was the youngest of the group, a younger brother of sorts, but I knew I wanted him to be part of my wedding as soon as Diana had accepted my proposal. And Diana loved him. She found him cute and his antics were endearing.

Like Wally, I hadn't known John for more than a year or so, having met at one of the military bases I was touring, looking for ways to help the Marine Corps incorporate new technology WayneTech had been working on. At first John was very skeptical of me, so he had told me, but after working closely together for a few months, he warmed up and we were able to form a friendship, finding the time to play a game of basketball every other week.

"Yeah, yeah," Ollie says, brushing off John's comment. He tucks the basketball under his arm and walks to the bench, where we have stashed our water bottles, phones, and keys, picks up his water bottle, and chugs its contents. "Considering West here spent half the game running after the ball instead of actually playing, I think we were pretty well matched."

He flashes Wally a smirk and a wink, hearing the younger man scoff at his comment, before he lifts the end of his tshirt and wipes the sweat from his brow. I've known Ollie nearly all my life. Our fathers used to do business with each other, and as much as I consider Clark to be my best friend, Ollie is the only one who knows the stress of running a company with a reputation like Wayne Enterprises or Queens Consolidated; if only he were a bit more responsible and didn't threaten the future of his company playing stupid games, something I've warned him against multiple times.

"Well I'm starving," I finally say in an attempt to keep the peace. "How about we go get some lunch, and then you can all tell me what we're doing?"

Everyone nods their head in unison and we all grab our items, before we head to the locker room and change into our clothes, stuffing our dirt and sweat filled gym attire into very worn out duffle bags. When we finally walk out of the rec center and back into the cold air Christmas in Gotham brings, I can't help but chuckle when I see poor Oliver shivering in his jacket, as we make our way to where Alfred waits with a limo. They don't get weather like this in California. We quickly make our way inside, each greeting Alfred as we get seated, before the Englishman starts the vehicle and takes off to a prediscloused location - one that I was not involved in planning.

"So what are we doing tonight?" I ask casually, trying to gain some information on the bachelor party that the four have kept quiet the last month and a half.

I am starting to worry they forgot to plan something and are hoping I will be their source of entertainment here in the city, but when Oliver says, "We're getting out of this negative two thousand degree weather," I know I'm in for a long weekend.

I never agreed to go anywhere. I didn't tell Diana I would be leaving the city, and the more I think about it, I haven't heard from her all morning. Whatever her bridesmaids dragged her into, I only hope she has fun, and doesn't get into too much trouble. "What do you mean?" I ask, flipping through the unread emails on my phone.

Oliver doesn't answer. Instead he throws a sly smile toward Clark, who sits there, chewing a piece of gum, trying to keep himself from spilling the secret before the big reveal. I know I'm not going to get anymore information out of Oliver and Clark, John is as much of a fortress with information as Lois, and Wally is too afraid of the rest of the guys to say anything, so I am out of luck and stay quiet, trying to enjoy the ride.

By the time I am done clearing out my inbox, the limo stops and Alfred opens the back door, where we all crawl out and onto a runway, where my private jet is waiting. "No," I say, shaking my head profusely at Oliver, who has the biggest grin on his face that could mean nothing but trouble. "I don't even have anything packed."

"I took the liberty of packing your bag for you, Master Wayne," Alfred says with a grin, pulling a suitcase from the trunk of the vehicle. He places it on the floor before he reaches in and pulls out everyone else's bags and I realize I've been tricked. So much for a quiet Bachelor party.

"You sneak," I accuse Alfred, who only shrugs his shoulders, promising to watch the manor for the weekend, before he gets into the driver's seat and takes off, leaving me stranded on the runway with the four men who each have devious grins on their faces. "I haven't even showered," I say, realizing that skipping the shower at the rec center, thinking I was going to be able to get a quick lunch and go home, was a mistake.

Clark shrugs his shoulder, bends down, and picks up three of the bags. "Shower on the plane," he says as he walks toward the plane, leaving me to shake my head, wondering how I got such sneaky friends.

XXXXXX

December 19. O'ahu, Hawaii. 16:03 HST

Diana

"I can't believe you brought me to the other side of the country," I say, my head still spinning from the flight that landed three hours ago. When Lois had driven to the airport, I figured we were headed to Atlantic City or New York. The furthest west I thought we would go was Vegas, but when I saw the destination on the ticket Lois tried to keep from me, I just about fainted.

Bruce had no idea where I was. As far as he knew, we were still nearby, having a girl's night at Lois' apartment, eating junk food and sipping margaritas. And while the margaritas were definitely a plenty, I had not expected to be sitting in a bikini by the beach while having my second drink of the night.

"Shut up and drink your margarita," Shayera says with a smirk as she and Donna come back to our table, dressed in their own beach attire, drinks in hand.

"She's right," Lois says, "besides, would you have come if we told you where we were taking you?" I only shake my head. "That's what I thought. By the way, Charlie wishes she could be here."

I let out a sigh. I wish my friend could have been here too, but she was with her wife and new daughter, and I couldn't fault her for that. Little Aria had definitely had an interesting birth story, scaring everyone that was anxiously awaiting her arrival, but now that all three were home and doing well, all that didn't matter. Still, Charlie was anxious about leaving the two of them a few weeks after her daughter's birth, not wanting to risk things. Now that I know we have traveled across the country, I understand her hesitation, and I send a quick text to let her know I miss her and can't wait to see that baby's sweet little face again.

Shayera takes a seat across from me and lets out a content sigh as she sips the drink in her hand, before she hands another glass to Donna, causing my eyebrow to raise. "What's that?" I ask, watching as Donna takes a sip and grins.

"Um, a margarita," she says with a shrug, unphased by the concern in my voice.

"Virgin?" I ask, tilting my head as I stare at my sister.

She contemplates her answer, before she shakes her head with a chuckle. "Of course not," she says, taking another sip.

I place my own cup on the table in front of me and snatch the glass from her hand, shaking my finger as she tries to protest. "Na uh," I say, "Drinking age is 21." I glance up at Shayera and furrow my brows. "How did you even get this anyway?"

Shayera chuckles and takes a large sip of her beverage, shrugs, and says, "That bartender was too busy flirting with her to realize she never got carded." After a pause she adds, "He also didn't charge me for the second drink, so I guess that's a win."

"Come on, Di," Donna begins, "Drinking age is eighteen at home."

I only shake my head once more. "We're not at home," I say, "And I don't feel like getting arrested for providing alcohol to a minor two weeks before my wedding."

Donna pouts, saddened by my newest rule, and Shayera tries to hide her playful scoff. "As I recall, you drank a lot heavier stuff than margaritas our freshman year, Diana," she says, stopping only when I kick her shin from under the table.

I know Shayera is right. I know I am a hypocrite for keeping Donna from drinking, even though I know she can handle her liquor better than half the people here, but while she is away from home, I am in charge of her well being, and I would hate for anything to happen to her, especially while we are away from Gotham. She's my sister, and if I have to be a little over protective of her, so be it.

Donna lets out a sigh, agitated that I did not let up, and pushes her chair back. "Fine," she says, standing from her seat. "I'll be right back." She walks back to the bar and I notice the bartender Shayera had mentioned before light up when he sees her, a smile on his face as his eyes fixate on Donna's, slowly listening to everything she orders.

"You've become a hard ass," Shayera says with a smirk, to which I roll my eyes and chuckle, knowing she understands where I am coming from.

I turn to face Lois and watch as she scans the room intently, her eyes roaming over every person in the room as she whispers something to herself. "You alright?" I find myself asking as I place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her attention away from a group of people at the opposite end of the bar.

Lois' eyes meet mine and she smiles, nods, and takes a sip of her drink. "I'm fine," she says, no further explanation given.

I nod, believing her, but I can't help but turn to scan the room myself. I have nearly completed a full sweep when I notice the group of people Lois had been staring at, my brows furrowing as I watch the men drink and laugh, each holding a beer as a few stare at the bikini clad women walking by, not a care in the world. When one of them turns, I shake my head and let out a scoff, before I rise from my seat and excuse myself from the table, intent on giving him a piece of my mind.

XXXXXX

December 19. O'ahu, Hawaii. 16:03 HST

Bruce

As we walk into the resort restaurant, I can't help but feel exhausted. An eleven hour flight was not something I had been planning this afternoon. If I had known this, I would have begged Diana to let me sleep instead of kissing her well into the morning - actually that is a lie, as I would always choose sleep deprivation over the deprivation of her lips on mine. The thought sends a flutter to my heart and I have to shake my head clear so that I can concentrate on not falling asleep as I walk.

The flight over was fairly monotonous. We had each taken showers in the bathroom at the rear of the plane, after which I claimed the bed in order to get one or two hours of shut eye while the others fended for themselves; Never had I been more grateful to have had my own private jet than I did today.

When we had landed, Oliver made sure we had a car waiting to take us to the resort, where we checked in, went to the suite to dump our luggage, and came downstairs to grab a drink, all in record time. And while at first I was convinced this was going to be a bad idea, where I would barely get to enjoy my time here and be exhausted a majority of the weekend, the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was a "Bruce Wayne" thing to do.

"How about a drink?" Oliver asks. Everyone nods their head, ready to start a weekend of relaxation, and he turns to me. "Bruce, come help me, will ya?"

I only nod and follow Ollie to the bar, watching as he tries to get the attention from the blonde bartender who is busy making a few extra drinks, her co worker on the other side of the bar, leaning against the counter as he flirts with another tourist. It takes a minute to finally gain her attention, and she comes over to take our order. "Hello gorgeous," Oliver says, giving the bartender a wink as he places his card on the bar. He runs a hand through his own blonde hair and tries his hand at seducing her without a word, but she doesn't fall for it and simply asks for us to repeat our order. Defeated, Ollie says, "Five of whatever you have on tap," watching as she nods and goes to grab our order.

I am unable to help the laugh that falls from my mouth as I watch Oliver sigh and drop his head, before he leans against the bar. Ever since he and Dinah ended things, yet another one of his stupid mistakes, he can't seem to get his groove back with women. It's a little disheartening to see someone who was as big of a playboy as I was, strike out with women, although as a man who is getting married in two weeks, I can no longer condone that behavior. I only wish he takes my advice and actually tries to reach out to Dinah once more.

The music shuffles and another song begins, providing some more up beat tempos to the couples dancing on a small dance floor. This place is small, but it is not boring, and as I continue to watch the people out on the beach, I decide I'm going to bring Diana hereafter we are married, as she will love it.

"Hey, Oliver," I say, turning my attention back to the man who is silently staring at a few surfers in the background. He turns to me. "Thank you," I say.

Oliver shakes his head. "No, thank Clark," he answers, "he was the one who set this whole thing up."

I applaud him for giving the credit to my best man, but I know for a fact Clark couldn't have paid for everything here. But Oliver knows what I meant, and only offers me a sly smile, pats me on the back, and says, "But think of this as a thank you. You saved me and the company back in February, and I can't thank you enough for that, Bruce."

Before I can respond, the blonde bartender comes back, a tray of beers in hand. Oliver hands her a credit card and tells her to keep a tab open, before he quickly grabs the tray and walks off to join the guys, myself not too far behind. When he makes it back to the three, Oliver begins to hand out beers, laughing at the last line of a joke Wally said that I just missed.

Clark makes a toast to the rest of the weekend, and to the wedding everyone can't stop talking about, before we indulge in our own little party, chatting about everything beside the wedding, because as much as I love the thought of marrying Diana in two weeks, I can't be stuck in another conversation about which flowers go best with lace. I'll leave that up to the bride and her friends.

"Now that is a beautiful woman," Wally says as he finishes his beer. He sets the glass down on to the table, turning his head to get a better look at the woman sporting a blue bikini, as she trots toward the water, surfboard in hand. Oliver nudges his arm and wiggles his eyebrows, before he whistles loudly, and I want nothing more than to hide my face, not wanting to draw more attention to myself as Oliver and the guys already have.

"Have some respect," Clark says as he takes another drink of his beverage and I am once again surprised at the will power this man has. Ever since he started dating Lois, he has yet to look at another woman in a manner that is anything other than professional. Although when you find the woman who you love more than anything, no other person will compare. I'm a testament to that.

I take another sip of my drink when I feel someone tap my shoulder. "Excuse me, sir," I hear from behind me, "care to dance?"

I place my drink on the table and turn, ready to let the woman behind me know I am unable to fulfill her request, but when I see who it is, my face lights up and my lips curl into a wide smile. "What are you doing here?" I ask in utter disbelief, surprised to see that my fiance so happens to be at the same resort me and my groomsmen are at currently.

Diana giggles as she leans in to my open arms. She kisses my cheek and I wrap my arms around her, the feeling of her body flush against mine sending chills down my spine. How has it only been a few hours since I've seen her and yet I feel like I'm going through withdrawals?

"Lois," she says, but she looks past me at Clark and narrows her eyes. "Although I suspect Clark and Lois conceived this idea together."

I glance over Diana's shoulder and notice Lois, Shayera, and Donna sitting at a table, enjoying what look like margaritas and laughing at something Donna has said. Our friends are sneaky people but they mean well, and I can't fault them for that.

"So," I begin, moving closer to Diana so I can whisper in her ear, "do you think they'd notice if we left for a bit?"

She ponders my question, a sly smile on her face as she realizes I want to continue what was interrupted this morning. "Let's go," she says as she takes my hand and pulls me away from the guys, maneuvering me through the crowd surrounding the bar, before pulling me out of the restaurant and onto the sand that covers the beach.

We walk across the sand, hand in hand, trying to find a spot where we can find complete privacy. Diana tells me of how she and the girls flew to Hawaii, Lois and Donna keeping her preoccupied until they boarded their last flight; only then did she know where they were headed. She tells me how she tried to call me the second she landed, wanting to let me know she wasn't going to be home tomorrow morning like she had originally thought, but I hadn't received her message because I had been on my own trek to the island. I tell her about my day, how after she left Clark and Oliver arrived at the manor, enjoyed a quick breakfast, and went about my day, not knowing I would be sleeping in a bed on the other side of the country that night.

"I can't believe Oliver is paying for all this," Diana says as we plop ourselves down onto the sand.

I stare out to the ocean, where the sunset has already begun to cast a beautiful array of red and orange over the water, and nod. "I know," I say, agreeing that he is taking this thanks a bit too far, but if he wants to splurge on me and my fiance, I'll happily let him do so.

It is quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from the small waves crashing on the shore, and I am grateful to know the only other people on this side of the beach have found their ways home, giving Diana and I the privacy we so desperately crave. It isn't long before she finds herself in my lap, arms wrapped around my neck, as she kisses me fiercely. Without hesitation my hands find themselves around her waist, pulling her closer, wanting to feel her body against mine.

My hands caress her back, my fingertips dancing along her bare back as my right hand makes its way up into her hair. My fingers tangle into those dark locks I love and when I give it a small yank, she lets out a moan that ignites something inside of me. My lips kiss a trail from her lips to her neck, knowing what this does to her, a smirk on my face when I hear her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

"Bruce," she whispers, "we shouldn't be doing this here."

I nod as I place my lips over hers once more. I know she's right, but her in my arms feels so right, and I don't care where we are, I want her. I part my lips, knowing I need to respond, however the voices that come from a few feet away make me freeze in my tracks.

"I think they're over there," I hear. My heart races as I recognize the deep voice. It's John, and he and the shadowy figure he is with begin to run to where Diana and I sit.

"Diana," I whisper, "we have company."

She pulls away from me and looks over her shoulder just in time to see John and Shayera come running up, stopping when they realize the compromising position they have found us in.

"Woah, are we interrupting something?" Shayera asks with a smug smile. She crosses her arms over her chest, staring intently at Diana and I as John tries to look away, trying to avoid both Diana and I, and Shayera's bikini clad chest, which is right in his line of sight.

"Yes," Diana says, letting out a sigh as she stands and fixes the skirt she wears.

"Good," Shayera says. "It's only been a few hours and you can't keep your hands off each other."

I stand from the sand and brush off my shorts and shrug. "Can you blame me," I ask honestly. Shayera glances at Diana, pondering my question, and nods to herself with a sigh, before she shakes her head and waves away her private thoughts. "Beside, you guys are the ones who brought us to the same resort."

John sighs. "I told Clark that was a bad idea. Now they're going to try to sneak off every chance they can."

Diana glances at me and winks, before she lifts her hand and uses a finger to cross an x over her heart. "I promise. We'll stay away from each other until we all go home."

Shayera doesn't seem to accept Diana's response, but she soon shrugs her shoulders and lets it go. Diana turns to give me one last kiss, smiling as she looks into my eyes, before she turns and follows Shayera back down to the restaurant and resort.

John, who has been staring at Shayera, clears his throat and turns to me. "Oliver says we have plans," he says. I nod and we walk back to the restaurant, where the other three guys are waiting, ready for a night of partying and drinking, and although all I want is to still be wrapped in Diana's arms, I know that'll come in time. Two more weeks, Bruce. Two more weeks until I get to marry her.

I realize nothing too exciting happened here, but this was the one I was unsure of. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

@fyeahwonderbat

[saultnpeppah]

Day 5: Dress Shopping

May 15. Downtown Gotham. 09:37.

Diana

"Oh Diana, that is beautiful."

I glance over my shoulder, taking in the reflection of myself in the mirror, dressed in the sixth wedding dress I've tried on today. The lace that covers the top crawls up my neck, meeting the satin that lays just above my breasts, before it flows down the rest of my torso, clenching at the waist and finishing in a long train. My eyes shift and meet Lois', who sits, head tilted, examining all the angles of the dress on my body as I turn to meet the women seated behind me.

"It is beautiful," I say, agreeing with Lois' earlier claim, "but don't you think this is a bit much?" I lift the train, bunching up the excessive fabric into my hands, showing the girls the part of the dress I don't particularly like.

Ahead of me, my four bridesmaids are seated, squished together on a loveseat only made for two. Lois sits on the end, next to Donna, who has been spending the last few days with Bruce and I in the manor, wanting to be here since my mother was unable to come help me find a dress. Beside Donna sits my old college roommate, Shayera Hol. She has been in California for the last six years, working with the FBI, and although I've missed having a female friend to vent to, we've kept up with weekly video calls. She was one of the first people to know when Bruce and I started dating, and was overly excited when we got engaged. She had work in New York next week and was able to stop in Gotham for a few days, wanting to spend some time with me and Bruce before the wedding.

Beside Shayera sits Charlie, who whistles my way as she fills her champagne glass once more. "Oh you can always get that fixed," Charlie says, sipping from her glass. She watches as Shayera nods in agreement, her lips pursing as she stays deep in thought, before Charlie turns to Donna. "What about you, Donna," she asks. "What do you think?"

Donna shrugs and I can see she is not in love with the dress I wear. "It's nice," she says. "But this," she motions to her neck, pointing out the lace that adorns the neckline, "is too much."

I nod, pulling the lace from my neck and take a deep breath. "I agree." I take a seat on the chair across from the girls and drop my head in my hands, frustrated that it's been over two hours and I have still yet to find the dress I am going to wear for my wedding.

Lois stands from her spot on the love seat and walks around the room, pulling various dresses from the rack to look at them. "We'll find one, Diana," she says.

Donna joins Lois looking at all the dresses, trying to be as helpful as she can since she's only here for a few days. She feels guilty that she can't do more from Greece, but I appreciate the fact that she's traveled here more than she knows.

I watch the two of them continue their quest for the perfect dress, knowing nothing they pull will be it. There are dresses they flash my way that have the perfect neckline, and some that have details sewn in that make my heart flutter, but none scream out perfection.

"You know Bruce is going to find you beautiful in anything you wear." I glance up to see Shayera standing by my side, her half empty champagne glass in hand.

I offer her a smile. "I know," I say, "But that doesn't mean I don't want the perfect dress." And I mean it. I only hope it doesn't take another two hours to find it.

XXXXX

May 15. Wayne Manor. 22:17.

The manor is dark and quiet. Alfred has already retired for the night and Bruce is still at the office, trying to prepare for a board meeting he's supposed to have in the morning. My hand skims over the sheets of the bed, grasping at the empty space where Bruce should be laying. I want nothing more than to be in his arms tonight, his taunt muscles holding my body against his as he lets me complain about not finding the dress today.

I had spent over three hours trying on dress after dress, each with a charm of its own, but none that matched the idea that had been bouncing around in my head since the day Bruce proposed. As a child I hadn't put much thought into a wedding. After all, my mother had never married, and she was a strong woman, someone I admired. But the moment Bruce proposed, I found myself looking at more wedding magazines and online boards than I thought possible, wanting that perfect day to share our love with family and friends.

My hand squeezes the sheets once more, wondering if I should just stay awake until Bruce gets in. I know I will not be able to sleep until he is laying next to me, so I quickly pull the comforter off and roll out of the bed. Walking to the bedroom door, I grab the robe laying over the chair by the vanity and pull it on, before I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall.

The wooden floors creak under my weight but I continue on, knowing nothing I do will stop the old floorboards from announcing my presence. When I first moved into the manor, I was always worried my walking around at night would wake Bruce, or Alfred, but that fear quickly diminished when I realized Bruce had an even harder time sleeping than I did, and Alfred never heard me, or if he had he hadn't said anything.

There were some nights I would find myself exploring the manor, trying to learn of Waynes past. One night I had found myself in the library and, enticed by the mountains upon mountains of books, had occupied myself until morning, where I had cursed myself for at least not getting a small nap in before work.

But tonight I wasn't in need of exploration or a good book. No, tonight what I needed was a hot cup of tea, something to calm my nerves until Bruce rolled through that door, exhausted and ready to climb into the bed with me.

As I descend down the stairs I find myself staring at the photos along the wall. As a child, whenever I would visit the manor, Bruce never wanted to talk about the pictures, not wanting to remember those he had lost. But as time went on, he was more than willing to share the names of his family, always stopping to smile at the wide grins of his parents, forever immortalized by the photograph. It was his most treasured memory of the three, the night before their deaths, when Thomas had stayed home with Bruce and Martha, wanting to show Bruce how to master the game of monopoly.

Once I hop off the last step I waste no time in making my way to the kitchen, cautiously flipping on only one of the lights. It is all I need to allow me to maneuver around the room without bumping into anything. I quickly retrieve the kettle from beside the stove and fill it with water, placing it back onto the burner and turning the appliance on, taking a seat on one of the bar stools that line the breakfast bar.

To the right of me is a pad of paper and, knowing I have a few minutes before my water will be ready, I reach over and grab it, plucking a pen from the container by its side. Before I know what I am doing, my hand is sketching a few things on the paper, on autopilot as my mind thinks back to all the dresses I've seen. Countless hours of research on the types of necklines, and material, and trains, and I still have no idea what I am wanting in a dress. I had originally toyed with the idea of getting a custom dress, something that was specially tailored just for me, but our date was much too close, and I still was unsure of the details I wanted included. It was a hard way to convince someone to expedite a custom dress if you weren't even sure which direction to go. So that idea was quickly abandoned.

My hand continues to drag the pen along the paper as I absentmindedly stare at the blue ink. The light flickers on, startling me, and I drop the pad and paper, turning in the stool to see Alfred walking my way, his robe cinched tightly around his waist.

"You're up awfully late, Ms. Diana," he says. He walks to the stove, where the tea kettle has just begun to whistle loudly, shifting it from the hot burner to a cold one, before he turns and pulls two mugs out from a cupboard.

I shrug my shoulders, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease. This is his solace, his sanctuary, just as the library is mine. He knows this room like the back of his hand.

"I couldn't sleep," I confess. "Waiting for Bruce."

Alfred nods. He understands the attention Bruce's company and title needs from him, especially when they have business and partnerships with other companies. Recently Wayne Enterprises has been doing business with Queen Consolidated and I know Bruce is working his hardest on it in an effort to help out Ollie.

"Ah, Master Wayne," Alfred says, "he is much like his father. Working long into the night, trying his hardest to help all those that he can." I nod, watching as Alfred pours the boiling water into the two mugs that he has already placed tea bags in, before he places the kettle back onto the stove. He hands me the mug and I graciously accept it, knowing full well that Alfred has already added the chamomile that'll relax me enough until my fiance comes home.

"How was this afternoon?" he asks, switching the conversation to what I'd rather not talk about. I only let out a sad sigh, sipping the hot beverage, folding my legs under me as I sink into the stool. It is all the response Alfred needs. "Unable to find one," he asks, although his tone implies he already knows the answer.

I only shake my head and close my eyes. "It's not supposed to be this hard, Alfred."

Alfred takes a sip from his own mug and shrugs, twisting his lips into a pout as he ponders his next few words. "You'll find the perfect one, Ms. Diana," he says, "and then all this worry will be a figment of the past."

I suppose Alfred is right. Soon I'll find the perfect dress and there will have been no sense in having worried so much, but after the three hours this afternoon, part of me is still skeptical. I am unable to voice my skepticism, however, when the door to the kitchen swings open and Bruce walks in, shoulders slumped and tired.

He walks into the room, greeting both me and Alfred, stopping only to kiss the back of my head and whisper that he is heading straight to bed. I nod, letting him know I'll be up as soon as I'm done with my tea, and he leaves the room. For the next twenty minutes Alfred and I sit in silence, sipping our tea contently, happy to have the company of the other.

When I finish I rise from the stool and attempt to take my mug to the sink but Alfred intercepts me and takes the dirty mug, shooing me off to bed, telling me to get a good night's rest. I oblige, thanking him for everything he does, which he only responds with a nod and a bright smile, before I head out of the kitchen and upstairs to our bedroom, discarding my robe as I jump into Bruce's waiting arms.

XXXXX

July 16. Wayne Manor. 17:42.

My head still swirls with thoughts of uncertainty as I walk through the front doors of the manor, greeting Alfred with a nod as I step into the foyer. He takes notice of my puzzled face and raises an eyebrow, his eyes traveling to the elegant box in my hand, shutting the door behind me as he asks, "Is everything alright, Ms. Diana?"

I hesitate for a moment and give him a nod, still sure there is something I am missing. The box in my hand baffles me even more as I am unsure why I now own this item. Having received a call this morning from the dress shop saying they had an order for me, I was confused and thought they had made a mistake. I still had yet to find that perfect dress, and with two months already gone and wasted, I was feeling more and more helpless by the day. Ultimately Charlie had convinced me to take a long lunch to go to the shop and try and sort things out, promising that this was not another elaborate scheme Bruce was a part of, and that she'd oversee the packaging and shipment of items from our Tibet exhibit, which had finished two days prior and were now going to be sent to D.C. in an effort to widen our network.

On my lunch I went to the shop, trying to rattle my brain for any reason I should be there. Maybe they had found another dress that might suit me? Maybe they had gotten in touch with other designers who were more than happy to help me find something to my liking, all willing to help just to get their designs on the cover of every magazine once photos of the wedding were leaked, and while that sounded like a marvelous idea, today I did not have time to try on another dozen dresses.

This, however, had not been the case, as when I went there and told the younger lady at the front desk I had received a call from their sales manager, she disappeared behind a door marked "staff only", only to appear a few minutes later holding a delicately wrapped box. It is the same box I hold in my hand now, only less delicately wrapped, as I had ripped it open as soon as I was back in the solace of my own vehicle.

"I went back to the dress shop," I explain, "and they gave me this." I open the box and carefully pull out the piece of lace, lifting it high enough for Alfred to see.

"Why I do believe that is a veil," he says slyly.

I nod. Of course I know what it is, but why do I have it? "But why would they give me a veil when I have no dress." Alfred only smirks and I raise an eyebrow and gently place the lacy veil back into the box. "What are you hiding?" I ask, suspicious of the butler.

"Just follow me, Ms. Diana," he says. He playfully snatches the box out of my hand and walks up the stairs, turning once to glance over his shoulder and make sure I am following him, before he continues to lead me down the hall to the bedroom I share with Bruce.

He flashes me one more smirk and opens the door, moving aside so I can step into the room. My eyes focus on the item in front of me and I can't help but gasp, covering my mouth in shock as I stare at the mannequin of a torso placed in the middle of the room. Covering it is the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, however I can't help but feel as if I've seen this before. It's sleek, it's detailed, it's form fitting….it's mine.

"Alfred," I say, still in shock as I let my fingers gently graze the light fabric that makes up the top layer of the dress, the intricate designs woven in between the lace and tulle. The lace sleeves have the same designs woven in and the train that is attached is long enough to have the desired effect, but short enough to be practical. "Where did you get this?"

I turn to face Alfred and flash him a wide smile. He says nothing as he pulls the sketch I had absentmindedly done the night of my failed dress shopping with the girls. "I knew you had something beautiful here, Ms. Diana," he says, "I just wanted you to have your dream dress."

I am at a loss for words. This man has done more for me in the last six months than my own father has my entire life. Before he knows what is happening, my arms are wrapped around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. His body tenses at first but I soon feel him relax and wrap his own arms around my body, hugging me back just as tightly.

"Now, now," he says, "There's no time for tears." He pulls away from me and wipes my cheek with his thumb, where the evidence of my emotions has started to fall, and nods toward the dress. "Let's try it on, shall we?"

I nod, kicking my shoes off and onto the bedroom floor, watching as Alfred steps out of the room to give me privacy. Excited, I discard my work clothes into a neat pile on the floor, pushing them aside with my foot, before I untie the back of the dress. Carefully minding the fabric, I slip the dress off the mannequin, and pull it up and over my body, pulling my arms through the lace sleeves, a smile on my face as more and more pieces fit like perfection.

I turn to face the large mirror beside the bed while my hands run down my sides, smoothing the fabric that has bunched up around my torso, and I wonder how Alfred has made this dress fit like a glove. The dress hugs each of my curves like an old friend and I can't help but smirk when I see the neckline stop just above my bust, which leaves a beautiful visual, but still tastefully leaves some to the imagination. This is definitely the dress I am going to wear on my wedding day, and I can't thank Alfred enough for the amount of work he has put into this, never once stopping to think of how much stress it was going to cause him. Planning this wedding without my mother or sister around hasn't been the easiest, but Alfred has helped much more than I could have ever hoped for.

Taking one last turn I notice the corset in the back still needs tightening, and no matter how long I may think my arms to be, I will not be able to do it myself. "Alfred," I call over my shoulder, "can you help me tie up the back?"

The door slowly opens and Alfred steps in. He stops when he sees me, his eyes doing a once over of the back of the dress before his eyes meet mine through the mirror. I can see there is a smile on his face which means the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes are nothing more than happy tears.

Alfred has known Bruce all his life, and me most of mine. He was the one who would pick the two of us up from grade school when my mother was working late in the office, ensuring my mother he would make sure I completed all assignments before any play time was had. My mother trusted him, he was probably the only man my mother could actually trust, and because of that trust, I came to love him as part of my own family. That love only grew when Bruce and I started dating, where I could confide in this man things I was not able to voice to Bruce. To me, Alfred was more than a butler, more than a man who had taken Bruce in after his parents' deaths- he was family.

I turn to face the English man, my own smile etched on my face as I shake my head, letting him know he needed to save those tears for the actual wedding. "If you cry," I say, trying to clear my voice before it cracks, "then I cry."

Alfred chuckles, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, and dabs his eyes, before he takes a deep breath. Placing the handkerchief back into his pocket he says, "I wouldn't dare." He steps further into the room and closes the door. He knows Bruce isn't set to come home for another hour but he doesn't want to risk me being seen in the dress. "But you look absolutely radiant, Ms. Diana," he compliments.

I dip my head down, trying to avoid having him see the small blush that colors my cheek, before I shake my head. "It's the dress," I say, "It's beautiful."

He twists his finger, asking me to turn so he can access the corset, and I oblige. He's quick to work on the corset, pulling it taunt as it tightens around my waist, conforming to the shape of my body. When he is done, he takes a step back and admires his work, moves to the front of my body, and fiddles with the neckline. "I'm so glad this came out as well as it did," he says nonchalantly, as if he didn't just create the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen from scratch.

"How did you know my size," I ask, turning to look at the back of my dress, which is now completely done, showing just how complex this dress is.

Alfred only smirks. "You forget who helped Master Bruce buy your last birthday gift." I only nod, remembering the beautiful little black dress Bruce had given me for my birthday. He reaches over and plucks the veil from the box laying on the bed and gently places it on my head. "And now for the finishing touch," he says, carefully arranging the lace that compliments the lace in the dress Alfred has made.

I take one last look in the mirror, my heart hammering in my chest as I look at myself. Alfred was right, the veil was the finishing touch that tied up the entire look. I can't wait to wear this on the day Bruce and I marry. "This is the dress," I whisper. "This is the dress I'm going to wear to marry Bruce." Alfred wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze glad to know he did well. "Thank you, Alfred. I don't know how I can repay you for this."

He only shakes his head and says, "Consider this a wedding gift." He takes one last look at the dress, content to know he has done well.

I turn and smile at Alfred one last time, throwing my arms around the man, silently thanking him for everything. This may have been unexpected, and it may have been more stressful to Alfred than he would like to admit, but this dress, this beautiful dress, is better than any dress I could get from a shop. And for that I am truly grateful. Only 5 more months to go.

@fyeahwonderbat

[saultnpeppah]

Day 7: Wedding Day

*hides from shame because of how late this is* Sorry guys...

December 31. Wayne Manor. 23:59:50

Diana

"Ten. Nine. Eight."

The countdown to the new year begins and my heart flutters as I hear each number, realizing soon it'll be the day of Bruce and my wedding.

"Seven. Six."

The room is filled with our wedding party and family, including my mother. I can see she is exhausted, having been working nonstop since flying in a few days ago with Antiope, but she was quick to decline the invitation to turn in early, knowing we would have a busy day tomorrow. She wanted to bring in the New Year with me and Donna together for the first time in years.

Beside my mother stands Antiope, a glass of champagne in hand as she flings her head back and laughs at something Alfred says. It has only been a few months since she and my mother have begun dating, and my mother was hesitant to tell me she was dating a woman, but now that I see the two of them I know it was all worth it. Antiope makes my mother happy, and her happiness is all I ever wanted.

"Five. Four."

Clark and Lois stand by the door, stealing sweet kisses and whispering amongst themselves, knowing it'll be another day before they will sleep beside each other. Bruce and I had agreed to spend the night away from each other, wanting to get a bit of separation before the wedding, so Oliver had rented a house by the bay, wanting all the guys to have one last night together before the first marriage of the group.

So I had invited all the girls to stay at the manor, knowing if they stayed to celebrate the New Year like they insisted, they wouldn't want to travel back home only to get a mere few hours of sleep. It was only after they agreed had I felt better about inviting everyone over the night before our wedding, letting our rehearsal dinner extend late into the night, until we stood watching the television, smiles on our faces as we watched the countdown to the new year continue.

"Three. Two."

I sneak a glance toward the fireplace where Shayera and John stand, flirting without a care who sees. Wally and Oliver sit in front of the television, a beer in each of their hands, simultaneously watching the countdown and trying to convince Donna to visit Star City the next time she is in the states.

Charlie and her wife, who looks absolutely fabulous for having a baby two months ago, stands next to my mother, showing her photos of the baby, ignoring the countdown, which only makes Mother smile, her thoughts swirling. She's already asked me when Bruce and I will be having kids, but I fear the longer she looks at the baby photos, the more questions will be asked.

"One. Happy New Year!"

Everyone erupts into cheers and I smile as I watch everyone find a special someone to kiss to bring in the New Year, my eyes narrowing as I watch Wally kiss Donna, but I decide to shake it off knowing he has no ill intentions.

A pair of hands wrap around my waist and flip me around, making me squeal in surprise as I try not to spill the champagne in my hand. Bruce smiles and presses his forehead against mine, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, and takes a deep breath. "Happy New Year, Diana," he says.

The grip on my waist tightens as I lean into him and whisper, "Happy New Year," before I pull him in for a kiss. Our lips meet and I can hardly contain my smile as my free hand moves to rest on his shoulder. This is the man I will be celebrating all my New Years with, the man who will be by my side as I look forward to new beginnings and bright and wonderful changes.

No sooner have my lips found his is someone standing next to us, clearing their throat, forcing me to pull back from my fiance. "Save some of that for the wedding," Mother says with a smirk. Bruce reciprocates with a smirk of his own and I turn my head away, trying not to let my mother see the faint blush that has crept onto my cheeks. I know he is not thinking of the wedding, but rather of the night that is to follow, and I'd much rather not have my mother know my rather unwholesome thoughts.

"Now, it's time for the men to go," she says as she places a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder. "The bride needs her rest."

Bruce feigns a sigh of disappointment. "What about Alfred?" he says, knowing nothing he says will stop my mother from shooing him out of the manor.

Mother only shakes her head. "Alfred can stay," she says, "but you must go."

Bruce nods and drops his hand from my waist, whispering, "Fine, kick me out of my own house," only loud enough for me to hear. When Mother turns and raises an eyebrow he only smiles widely, leans in to steal one final kiss, and rushes toward the door, where Clark is waiting with his coat.

"I'll see you at the altar," he calls over his shoulder as he steps out onto the snow covered stoop. "I love you."

"I love you too," is all I say, watching as Clark shuts the door with a small wave, before Mother plucks the champagne glass from my hand and forces me up the stairs and into my bed, wanting me to be well rested for later today.

January 1. Wayne Manor. 07:10

Diana

There is another knock on the bedroom door and I want nothing more than to shoo away the person on the other end, wishing for a few more moments of rest. Sleep did not come easily to me last night, or rather this morning, as both nerves mixed with excitement filled me, keeping me up well into the early morning. Today I am getting married. Today I become someone's wife, and although I know I should be thrilled, I can't help but wish I could sneak away and get another hour of sleep. Surely Bruce would understand. But the thought of standing in front of him, clothed in the beautiful gown Alfred worked so hard on, makes my heart skip a beat, and I roll over trying to steady my pulse for what seems like the hundredth time.

Another knock fills the room forcing a grumble from my lips as I turn once again to Bruce's empty spot on the bed, clutching at the empty sheets where my fiance usually sleeps. It still smells like him and I can't help but smile when I realize I will get to sleep next to him for the rest of our lives.

The bedroom door creaks open and my mother pops her head inside. "Diana," she calls, stepping into the room, "it's time to get up."

Letting out a groan I sit up and pull the covers from my body, rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes as my mother comes up to the bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. She says nothing as she fiddles with the sheets on the bed, her mind racing as she realizes her eldest daughter is getting married today.

"Is everyone else awake?" I ask as I stand from the bed. I notice her nod her head slowly and I nod my own in response, walking over to my closet, where my robe is hanging. "Do we know when Donna's-" my words catch in my throat when I see my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me, tears falling from her eyes as she watches me drop the article of clothing and rush to her side.

"What's wrong?" I ask, taking a seat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She only shakes her head and reaches up to place a hand on my face. "How have I been so busy, so caught up with work and duties that I missed you growing up." She cups my face and reaches over with her free hand, grasping my hand in hers and says, "How is my little sun and stars already getting married?"

I flash her a smile, close my eyes, and kiss the palm of her hand. "I may be getting married, but I will always be your sun and stars." My eyes open to see my mother smile and I know even though she cries, they are now tears of happiness. We may have had a troubled past, both unable to understand why the other would do the opposite of what we wanted, but things have changed. I have come to appreciate the sacrifices my mother has made for me and she has come to trust the decisions I have made for myself, including Bruce.

"Good," she says. "And because you're my child, if Bruce hurts you, I will kill him."

I let out a small chuckle as I stand from the bed, pulling her up to stand beside me, and nod. "You'll have to get in line," I say as I loop my arm through hers. "Donna and Antiope have already threatened him."

My mother lets out a laugh as she wipes the last remaining tears from her eyes, before she leads me into the bathroom. "Good," she says. "Now, go shower and meet everyone downstairs for breakfast. I will not have you passing out on your wedding day because you did not eat."

"Of course, Mother," I say with a chuckle, plucking a towel from the shelf beside the door, before the door shuts and I start the shower.

January 1. Downtown Gotham. 12:32.

Bruce

You can tell a lot about a man from his eyes. I used to think that wasn't true, that it was all just something made up, but as I stand in front of the full length mirror beside the open bedroom door, I now know it is true. Staring into the eyes of the man in the reflection, I don't see the hurt I used to carry all those years, the pain of having been the only surviving Wayne. I don't see the constant anger I harbored, nor do I see the hatred for the man who took away my parents. No, in the eyes of the man in the mirror I see hope. I see a man who is happy, who is excited to see what is in store. I see a man who is set to marry his best friend.

My eyes continue to stare at my reflection, a crooked smile on my face as I finish tightening the tie around my neck. In an hour and a half I will be marrying Diana, and I can't help but thank her gods, and every other god in the universe, for getting us here. I've been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine we'd be here, on our wedding day, ready to make the commitment I have wanted for so long.

There is a knock on the door and my eyes glance up toward the open doorway. Clark stands there, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame, his right eyebrow arched behind thick glasses. "Why?" is all he asks as he lifts the tie that is fastened around his neck.

I assume he is wondering why we chose the hue of purple that we both now wear, but I can't explain it in a way he will comprehend. Understandably, I was also a bit skeptical of wearing purple, as it wasn't something that was normally in my wardrobe, but when Diana was able to find the perfect grey tuxedos to compliment the color, I was more willing to wear it for a few hours.

I let my shoulders shrug as I finish flattening my collar, taking the knot of the tie and jiggling it around until it is perfectly placed in the center of my throat. "It's Diana's favorite color," I say.

I can see Clark's reflection in the mirror as he straightens himself and fixes his own tie. "Diana's favorite color is blue," he states, his eyebrows raising once more.

I turn away from the mirror and give my head a small shake, letting Clark know my original statement was true. "She tells everyone her favorite color is blue," I say, "but she loves purple." It is something I have known since high school, and although Clark and Diana used to date, it seems like it was something that never came up.

Clark walks into the room, stopping beside me as he places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Bruce," he begins, letting out a sigh as he drops his head. "I'm sorry." It is my turn to raise an eyebrow, confused, as he continues. "I knew you were in love with Diana in college, and when you denied it, I knew I should've seen past the lie, but instead I went after her. I betrayed you as a friend, and I never truly apologized for that."

It's true. I was hurt when Clark went after Diana in college, but it was my fault. If I would have just admitted I had feelings for Diana, if I would have admitted I was in love with her, Clark and I would have never had the fallout after graduation. I'm glad we're able to have that brotherly relationship back, as I missed him more than he knows.

"In college I was not the man she deserved," I admit, knowing twenty year old me was not the man that Diana needed nor deserved. She needed someone who was willing to be vulnerable, and although I loved her, I still was afraid to let my wall down with anyone, especially her. "Beside, it's all in the past," I say, nudging his shoulder as I reach for the tuxedo jacket that is hanging off the corner of the mirror. Oliver walks into the room as I pull the jacket on, buttoning it as I watch him turn to look at himself in the mirror, admiring his freshly groomed beard.

"You ready to get married?" Oliver asks, never once tearing his eyes away from his own reflection. I scoff and nod my head, knowing he can see my action in the glass, before he winks and nods. "Let's go!" He rushes out of the room and down the hall, forcing Clark to shake his head and chuckle.

"I guess it's time to go get you hitched," Clark says with a smirk, watching as I scowl at him.

"We're not in Kansas," I say unamused. Clark only chuckles once more and shrugs. The two of us make our way to the doorway and step out into the hallway. "By the way," I say, remembering the message that was left on my phone yesterday afternoon, "Gustavo says your order is ready."

January 1. Wayne Manor. 13:53.

Diana.

My heart continues to pound as I listen to the sounds of our guests filling the conservatory downstairs. The ceremony starts in a few minutes and the nerves are finally starting to catch up to me, the thoughts of Bruce standing at the front of the aisle making me as giddy as a school girl with a crush.

There is a small knock on the door before it opens slowly, allowing Alfred to step inside. He smiles at the woman standing by the door, either Lois or Antiope, I can't remember, who is making sure Bruce does not see me before the ceremony, before his eyes glance up to see me standing beside my mother and Donna. His eyes roam over the dress and his smile widens, happy to know the dress he created for me is part of this perfect day. "Ms. Diana," he says, reaching out to hold my hands, "you look absolutely beautiful."

I blush at Alfred's compliment, letting the older Englishman, who has become the only father figure I have had in my life, brush the veil from my face to kiss my cheek. "Thank you, Alfred," I say.

Alfred looks over to my mother, who is wiping away tears for the third time today, although I suspect it will not be the last, and continues to smile. "And Ms. Hippolyta, you look beautiful as well," he says, watching as my mother glances down at her dress before returning his compliment with a smile. She thanks him with a small nod and blots the tears from under her eyes with a handkerchief. "Now, I do believe it is time to get going. Master Wayne is nervously awaiting your entrance."

I nod, turning to the mirror once more to get one last look of my reflection in the dress, before I turn to my mother. "It's time," I say, reaching out for my mother's hand, smiling when she places her hand in mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.

13:59. Bruce.

The music begins to play and I take a deep breath. This is it. I am used to being in the spotlight, so I don't know why I suddenly feel so nervous, but it's a good feeling.

"You ready?" Clark whispers, nudging my shoulder with his.

I nod, watching as Alfred comes down the stairs to join me and the rest of the wedding party, who are all dressed and ready to go. "She looks beautiful, Master Wayne," Alfred says with a smirk, taunting me, knowing I am desperate to see my fiance. "It is time to begin."

He opens the door and steps into the conservatory and Clark and I follow close behind, making our way to the front of the room, where we turn to greet the guests with a smile. Martha Kent sits in the front row, flashing me a wide grin when I give her a small wave, grateful that she is here. Beside Alfred, she is the closest thing to a parent I have had since I was eight.

Beside Martha is an empty seat, where Hippolyta will sit once she walks Diana down the aisle. Antiope sneaks along the wall, quietly taking her seat beside Hippolyta's empty chair and gives me two thumbs up, letting me know everyone is ready to go.

The door to the conservatory opens once more and Oliver and Lois step into the room. Lois' arm is looped into Oliver's as the two begin their decent down the aisle, each smiling widely as they make their way to where Alfred, Clark, and I stand. At the end of the aisle the two separate, and go to their respective sides, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to come down.

The rest of the couples come down the aisle, Shayera with John, Wally with Charlie, each standing beside the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Donna comes down by herself, as she is Diana's maid of honor, meaning Diana is right around the corner.

The music coming from the group of musicians in the corner fades out and a new tune begins to play. Everyone stands from their seats and turns to face the back of the room where Diana and her mother have appeared, arm in arm, ready to walk down the aisle.

My breath catches in the back of my throat when I lay eyes on my fiance for the first time. She is the epitome of beauty, both inside and outside, and I can't help but let my heart flutter when I see her in that dress. She wasn't lying when she said the dress was perfect, and as I take in the lace and the fabric that covers her curves amazingly, I can't help but give a goofy smile. As the two begin to walk down the aisle, Diana glances up and her eyes meet mine, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters.

Time seems to stand still as I watch her continue down the aisle. I never imagined getting married, I never imagined being this committed to someone, but with Diana, it was a welcomed change. I want to be better for her. I want to be everything for her. There are days when I still don't know what she sees in me, but I won't question my fortune.

Diana and Hippolyta make it to where we all stand. Her eyes are still locked on mine as Hippolyta places her daughter's hand in mine with a smile, before she steps back and takes a seat in her designated chair, pulling Antiope's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together.

Everyone sits and the music begins to fade out once more, and I take the time to whisper, "You look beautiful," to the woman in front of me.

Diana smiles and says, "You look handsome," before she turns and hands the bouquet in her hand to Donna.

Alfred clears his throat and everyone turns their attention to the Englishman. "Love is a beautiful thing," he begins. He closes the book in his hand, deciding to speak from the heart rather than read an unoriginal prompt. "I've known Master Bruce his whole life, as many of you have. He is an incredible young man, determined and intelligent, and so focused on not letting the tragedy of his parents define him in the way people expected. Likewise, I've known Ms. Diana a majority of her life, and she was a godsend to both Bruce and I during those dark days." He takes a breath, trying to compose himself, before he clears his throat once more. "Bruce and Diana have a love that is so pure, so precious, many of us spend our whole lifetimes trying to achieve it."

He hands me the piece of paper that my vows are written on and I quietly accept it with my right hand, refusing to let go of Diana's hand with my left. He quickly turns to Diana and hands her the piece of paper that her vows are on, before he says, "Diana and Bruce have decided to write their own vows. Diana, we'll start with you."

Diana nods and glances down at her paper, before she folds it and drops her hand, not needing to read the words off the page. "Bruce," she begins, squeezing my hand, "when we were kids, I knew you would be a big part of my life. When we were in high school I fell in love with you. You're my best friend, Bruce, my biggest supporter, and I promise to spend the rest of my life supporting you as you've supported me. I love you, more than anything, and I can't wait to start this journey with you."

Diana smiles and exchanges the paper with her vows for a handkerchief. "Bruce," Alfred says, prompting me to start my vows.

I nod, squeeze Diana's hand and caress her knuckles with my thumb, clearing my throat as I ball up my vows in my hand. "Diana," I begin, shoving the crumbled paper into my pocket, "who would have known the little girl who punched me on the playground would end up being my wife." Everyone begins to chuckle and I smirk at Diana, watching as she blushes and tries to shake her head at the memory. "Throughout my life, you've been the one constant, beside Alfred of course. You're my best friend. You've been there when I've been a stubborn, hard headed, mean, and downright terrible person. You helped me survive college, you helped me fight for my company, and you've been there every step of the way when I needed a kick in the rear."

"You've been the light at the end of the tunnel for so long, and now that we're here, out in the light together, I'll work my hardest trying to make you as happy as you've made me." I finish my vows and smile at the woman who will be my wife in a few short moments, lifting her hand to my lips, gently placing a kiss on the back of it, letting her know just how much I love and cherish her. She smiles back and my heart skips a beat. I don't know how after all these years that beautiful smile still manages to do that to me.

"Now," Alfred begins, turning to Clark, "may I have the rings." Clark nods and reaches into his tuxedo jacket, pulling a thin box from the pocket that lines the jacket. He hands the box over to Alfred. "Bruce, take this ring and place it on Diana's finger, and repeat after me," he says, as he opens the book in his hand once more. "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

He hands me the ring and I lift Diana's left hand, sliding the ring on her fourth finger as I repeat the words, "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

Alfred places the silver band that is to be placed on my finger in the middle of Diana's hand and nods, "Diana, repeat after me. Bruce, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

Diana repeats the words Alfred has given her and slides the ring on my finger, giving me a wink as she squeezes my hand gently. She mouths a quick 'I love you' before she turns back to face Alfred, a smug smile on my face because she knows exactly how my heart is starting to race with the thought that in a few seconds we will be married.

My hand still holds hers as I turn to Alfred, squeezing it in return as I flash her a smile, watching as Alfred glances down at the notes in his hand, taking a deep breath as he attempts to hide the happy tears that are threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes. "A marriage," he begins, taking another deep breath, "is a joining of two families. It is a celebration of two lives becoming one." He glances up at Hippolyta and flashes her a smile.

"It is my greatest pleasure to join these two as husband and wife." Alfred turns to me and his smile turns into a smirk. "Bruce, you may kiss your bride."

It is all the instruction I need. I sweep Diana in my arms and dip her, earning a gasp from her and the bridesmaids standing behind her, before she relaxes in my arms and lets out a chuckle. It is soon silenced when I press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck as the room begins to clap and cheer, but I am too focused on kissing my wife to pay any mind to everyone else. It isn't long before I pull away from Diana, flashing her a smirk, silently telling her there will be far more kissing later tonight.

She gently pats my cheek and offers me another smile as I pull her up to stand beside me. "It is my greatest pleasure to announce Mr. and Mrs. Bruce and Diana Wayne." Once again everyone claps and cheers, signaling our que to begin our exit.

Diana and I walk down the makeshift aisle, past our guests who continue to clap as we make our way out of the room. Our wedding party partners up and follows us out, but I don't bother to look at where they go, as I pull Diana away from everyone. "Bruce," she whispers as she turns her head to glance at the rest of the wedding party. "Where are we going?"

I don't answer her. I only pull her to the small hidden corner underneath the staircase and wrap my arms around her, letting my lips capture hers in a sweet kiss. "I just want a moment alone with my wife," I say, "before I have to share you for the next few hours."

Diana chuckles and kisses me once more. "Who would've thought," she begins, pulling a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Bruce Wayne is now a married man."

I nod and smile. "I can't believe you married me," I say. "I don't know what I did, but I love you more than you know." I kiss her once more and she lets out an appreciative moan, running her fingers through my hair.

"I know, Bruce," she says, "I know. And I love you too."

We continue to talk, stealing sweet kisses and tender caresses for the next twenty minutes, trying to stay hidden for as long as possible. I know it is our wedding, but I would love nothing more than to stay here all night with my wife. Unfortunately it isn't in the cards, as Alfred sneaks up to where we stand, startling the two of us.

"There you are," he says, forcing both Diana and I to freeze. "Mr. Queen is looking for you, Master Bruce," he says, raising an eyebrow and I chuckle.

"Of course he is," I whisper. "Tell him I will talk to him later, but he is welcome."

"Of course, Master Wayne," he says.

I can feel Diana staring at me. "Bruce," she says, "what did you do?"

I glance at my wife over my shoulder and shrug. "I may have called Dinah and invited her under the guise that Ollie wanted to rekindle their relationship."

"Bruce Wayne," Diana says in shock. "You did not-"

"He's in love with her Di," I explain. "And he's being an idiot and doesn't realize just how much she loves him. If someone were to have made me realize what an idiot I was being in college denying my feelings for you, we would never have missed out on all those years. I don't want that to happen to him."

Her face softens when she hears my explanation. She knows I would never purposefully meddle in my friend's business, but I can't let him make the same mistake I made all those years ago. And what a better place to realize you love someone than at a wedding.

"You cease to amaze me," she says with a wide smile, placing a kiss on the top of my jawline as she wraps her arms around me and places a head on my chest.

My arms wrap around her and I turn to Alfred, who is still watching us with a wide smile. "We'll be right out," I say, promising not to keep our guests waiting much longer.

Alfred nods and turns to walk to the ballroom, stopping only to say, "And the arrangements for tonight have been made." With that he walks away leaving me and my wife alone for a few more moments.

"What arrangements?" Diana asks once Alfred is gone. "We're not leaving for Switzerland until tomorrow," she reminds me.

I give her a small shrug, even though I know I'm seconds away from explaining-it's a habit "We're not staying here tonight," I say.

"And why is that?"

Once again I shrug my shoulders. "Do you really want to spend our wedding night in the room across the hall from your mother?"

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head adamantly. "No, no," she says, "you're right, and smart." She gives me a sly smirk and kisses me softly. "But we do need to get back to our guests."

She pulls my hand and I let out a small groan, disappointed that my alone time with Diana has been cut short. "Okay, okay," I say, "but tonight you're all mine."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne," she responds. "Let's go."

"Yes, Mrs. Wayne," I say with a smirk, as I loop my arms in hers and walk toward the ballroom with my wife, unable to help the smile on my face when I realize I am one lucky man.

@fyeahwonderbat

Well I could end it here, or I could do one more chapter with "the morning after". Let me know :)

[saultnpeppah]

Day 4: Save the Date

May 2. Prince Residence - Santorini, Greece. 17:47.

Bruce

"Don't even think about it, Bruce."

Diana stares at me from the corner of her eye, her brow furrowed in an attempt to seem serious, but the faint curl of her lip into that devious smile shows me she is still giddy from talking about the wedding. We've been talking about this, what we want to incorporate, who we want there to celebrate alongside us, where we want to have it, and all are things we can agree on easily or are quick to compromise on, but there is still one thing neither of us can settle on: a date. Since proposing two months ago, Diana and I have constantly gone back and forth, both set on our own timeline for our impending nuptials. Diana would like to wait a while, get everything in order, plan properly and have plenty of time to get things settled with work. Me? Hell, I would marry her this afternoon if I could.

I had waited long enough to be in a relationship with her, waited even longer to tell her how I truly felt. I didn't want to waste anymore time unnecessarily, wanting to start my life as her husband as soon as possible.

"What?" I ask innocently, absentmindedly flipping through one of the open magazines atop the bed we lay on, casually discussing the wedding and other events that will fill the year's calendar, waiting on Hippolyta to come back from the office. "You don't think a nice summer wedding would be wonderful," I ask, tilting my head as I flash that smirk I know she can't ignore.

Diana, who has her own wedding magazine grasped firmly in her own hands, turns her head to glare at me, shaking it profusely at the question. "Not if it's this summer," she comments. "You know how much we have going on in the museum right now. That is not enough time to get everything done."

"You forget who you're marrying," I say, but the look in Diana's eyes as she turns to face me once more tells me she is in no mood to discuss the idea any further. I let out a sigh and fall back onto the bed we have been sharing for the last few days, staring up into the ceiling of the villa Hippolyta owns. This trip had been planned months in advance and I had hoped seeing the beautiful weather back in her hometown would persuade Diana that a summer wedding, with the sunshine and ocean breeze providing the perfect backdrop, would be the picture perfect wedding. She had politely shut down that idea, stating both our work schedules would not allow us to take much time off during the summer.

I had offered to hire a wedding planner, wanting to lighten a bit of stress of the load Diana had been carrying, but she simply refused. She wanted to do this herself, and I wasn't going to deny her that.

"What about March?" she asks, her eyebrow raising as she mentally plans a few details, convinced I will agree, and as much as I would love to, I have prior obligations.

"I'll be in Germany for half the month," I say, reminding her of the business trip that has been in the works for over a year. Her eyes close and she lets out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she grows increasingly more frustrated. "I'm still loving the summer wedding," I comment once more, the cocky smirk on my face growing as I reach out to touch her back. Her shoulders tense and she closes the magazine in her hands, placing it on top of the mattress as she swings her feet over the edge of the bed and stands.

"I've already said no," she says, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Why are you so stubborn," I find myself asking, however seeing her shoulders tense even more, I realize the comment should have never left my lips. Diana turns to face me, her face tensing as she becomes angry, huffs, and storms out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her as she stomps down the stairs. "Why, Bruce," I reprimand myself, "why must you push her buttons."

Getting out of bed, I carefully place the magazine I had absentmindedly been browsing through back onto the pile by the foot of the bed, and follow Diana out of the room. Descending the stairs I can hear her talking to someone in Greek. Her tone is angry, and even though I've picked up a few words and phrases since high school, she's speaking too quickly for me to comprehend anything.

Diana finishes and lets out a huff as her companion chuckles before she responds, letting me know it is Donna she has run into and has been complaining to about me; if there was one word I understood throughout that entire rant, it was my name.

I turn the corner, forcing myself from my hiding spot, and step into the family room. Diana and Donna quiet when they see me, the three of us staring at each other, until Diana lets out a huff and walks out the room. When I try to take a step toward my fiance, Donna steps in the way, places a hand on my shoulder, and shakes her head. "Let her cool down," she says calmly, and as much as I want to apologize to Diana, I know Donna is right about her sister.

I give Donna a reluctant nod and throw my head back, letting out a sigh as her hand retreats from my shoulder. She takes a seat on the edge of the couch and waits for me to follow, her blue eyes staring at me until I comply and take a seat on the chair across from her. Her eyes continue to stare at me, watching every breath I take, studying me. Since the moment Diana and I announced we were dating, she has kept a close eye on me, and for good reason. Diana is her sister, and she would never let anything happen to her.

The two have been close, well as close as two people with an age gap as big as theirs can be. Ten years her junior, Donna joined the family when Diana was just heading off to college. After her mother died, and her father had abandoned her, Hippolyta and Diana were the only family Donna had, and after much consideration, and much convincing from Diana, Hippolyta had taken the child in and raised her like her own. At first it had been an adjustment, as Donna had just become an orphan at the age of eight, something I knew much too well, but Diana spent most of the summer before college helping her become acclimated to life with her mother, and again the following summer when Hippolyta had decided they were going to move back to Greece. In fact, our first year of college, I don't think Diana spent an entire weekend on campus, choosing to make the three hour drive each Friday night to spend time with Donna.

Diana knew Donna needed a friend, and after having her own father walk out on her life, Diana knew she could form a connection with her. She gave her advice on how to deal with Hippolyta's constant overbearing nature, even if it was out of love, and the two became inseparable. Donna was part of the reason Diana had returned to Greece for a time, knowing the girl was having a hard time acclimating to the country and her new found family. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with Diana. She was, is, so willing to sacrifice her own personal needs for her family, leaving the country to help the distant relative she didn't know she hadn't known about for years.

But as I continue to watch Donna stare at me, I wonder just how distant the two are. Donna looks just like Diana. The two have the same dark wavy hair, the same piercing blue eyes, the same tall, muscular, yet slender build. It's uncanny.

"So, she's pretty angry?" I ask, even though I know the answer. Diana doesn't storm off much, but when she does, it's usually because she has good reasons. I only hope I can apologize before I ruin the rest of the trip for her. It's not very often she gets to see her family and I want her to have nothing but the best of times.

Donna nods and chuckles, leaning back into the couch as her arms fold over her chest. "Understandably so," she comments. She watches my face, watching as I raise an eyebrow in confusion, before she adds, "Bruce, it's not that Diana doesn't want to get married as soon as possible. She does. But did you ever think that maybe this summer isn't the best time for her?"

I nod. I know she has a million and one things to do and maybe I've been a bit selfish about this whole thing. I can move my schedule around much easier than Diana can, and I never took into consideration how preoccupied with work she has been. I suddenly feel like an idiot and a jerk for the comments I've made to Diana.

"When she came to Greece, she gave up a job offer in New York," Donna explains, "and when she got back to Gotham, she had to fight for the job she has now." I never knew she gave up a job offer. I want to ask Diana about it when I see her again, but the look on Donna's face tells me I should think otherwise. She looks guilty. She looks as though she blames herself for Diana giving up that dream job to come and help her through a rough patch, and the look in her eyes tells me she will never stop feeling that way. I suddenly realize it is not something that needs to be brought up again.

"When the two of you started dating, and Diana got into the papers and tabloids, there was talk about her being dismissed from her job."

Her words spark an emotion in me that I can only describe as both anger and sadness. I never wanted Diana to lose her job, lose anything, because of me. I knew when we started dating the press was going to have a field day with printing any and all details about our relationship, no matter how accurate or fabricated they had been. Her life was going to be scrutinized by people who knew nothing about her, and although I tried to keep her name out of the papers, never wanting that for her, I suppose rumors and lies spread elsewhere. Had I known her job had been in jeopardy, I would have been a bit more cautious on how we approached everything.

"She never told me this," I say. My hand clenches into a fist and I take a deep breath, trying to control the anger that is rising within my chest.

Donna shrugs. "I told her to, but Diana is stubborn. You and I both know that." She lets out a chuckle and adds, "Hell, all of Santorini knows this." While Diana in the spotlight is not a new development, after all, her mother is essentially royalty here in Greece, she hasn't been in the papers since she was eight. But even as a child, she was as stubborn and headstrong as she is now, and if Hippolyta's stories are any forewarning, any children we have are going to be nearly impossible to sway away from something they want.

"She convinced them your relationship would not affect her job, and she's made good on that promise for over a year. Diana has worked hard, has put in extra hours, has proved herself time and time again. If she neglects her duties to get married this summer, when there are two galas and another exhibit planning to open in September, who knows how this is going to affect her."

My heart sinks when I realize everything Donna has said is true. I never knew Diana's job had been threatened because of her association with me, but if I had paid attention, I would've seen the signs. I knew Diana worked hard, harder than most, but I never knew it was because she feared losing her job. After all, she had already given up one dream job, I couldn't be the reason behind her losing another. I am suddenly overwhelmed by guilt. I have been selfish, more so than usual, and I owe her so much more. I should be working with Diana, not against her. I should be getting married when we both feel it is right. It isn't right of me to want to rush her for my own selfish wants.

"I'm an idiot," I mumble, dropping my head into my hands and letting out a sigh.

"No," someone says, and my head snaps up to see both Hippolyta and Antiope, her girlfriend, standing behind Donna. Hippolyta offers me a small smile and takes a seat next to Donna, placing her arm around the girl that has become her second daughter, before she leans in and kisses the teen's head. "You're not an idiot, Bruce," she says as she stares at me and I wonder just how much of this conversation she and Antiope have heard. "You two have been best friends for years, so naturally you've both clicked fairly well for a majority of the time. Sure there have been a few spats here and there and as I recall you two didn't talk for nearly a month your Junior year."

I try not to let my face give away anything, as the only reason Diana and I had gotten into that argument resulting in our avoidance of each other in the first place was because we had slept together. Once we started talking again, deciding to forget about the whole thing, Diana had let it slip that she had lied to her mother saying we had argued about a class project, but Hippolyta was smart.

"And don't think I didn't know why you were arguing," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. Guess Diana wasn't as convincing as she thought. "The point is," she begins, "You two need to be flexible and take each others' needs and priorities into account. There are going to be days when you're not readily available for her and there will be days when she's not readily available for you. You work through it, and compromise."

As Hippolyta finishes her lecture, Antiope walks up to the woman and takes a seat beside her, placing a hand on the older woman's knee. "That and you'll have to learn the Prince women are stubborn but they mean well," she teases, turning to Hippolyta who only scowls, offended by her comment.

"How dare you," Hippolyta says, feigning insult as Donna and Antiope share a laugh. Antiope kisses Hippolyta's cheek and offers me a smile, however I am only convinced that everything is going to be okay when Hippolyta joins in and smiles widely as well. "Don't worry, Bruce," she says, "you two will figure it out."

XXXXXXX

It is dark when the door to Diana and my shared bedroom creaks open and she walks inside, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat and her cheeks are flushed. Her earbuds are still in her ears, blasting the soundtrack to her run, so she doesn't hear that I am still up, but I haven't been able to stop thinking since she left. For the past three hours I have done nothing but think, and now that she's here, I want to run a new idea by her.

She continues to bob her head as the music continues to flow through the wireless devices, her heart rate still elevated from running the all too familiar streets of her childhood home. A part of me wants to reach out and touch her arm, wipe the sweat from her brow, and let her know I'm awake, but I also enjoy watching her as she sits on the edge of the bed, slowly pulling her shirt over her head. She turns to flip on the light by the bed, letting out a small shriek when she sees me sitting up and staring at her.

Her hand instinctively goes to cover her bra clad chest before she realizes it's only me and lets out a sigh of relief. "I didn't realize you were still up," she whispers. She pulls the earbuds from her ears and places them in their charging container, carefully placing them on the desk beside the window along with her phone.

I quietly flip on the bedside lamp, watching as she pulls the tie from her hair, letting it fall out of the ponytail into a pool down her back, before she pulls off her socks and tosses them into the adjoining bathroom. "Couldn't sleep," I confess. It's partially true. I couldn't sleep without Diana here, safe and sound beside me, but I wanted to make sure she knew I was sorry for everything that happened this evening.

I pat the spot on the bed next to where I lay and I watch as she contemplates the offer, lets out a small sigh, and obliges, laying down beside me. I let her get comfortable before I roll onto my side, watching as her eyes widen in surprise, before I lean down and kiss her softly. "I'm all sweaty," she whispers, letting me know she wants to shower soon, before she kisses me back.

I nod. "I know," I start, "but I want to talk to you before you jump into the shower." She gives me a nod and sits up, watching as I copy her pose, sitting in the center of the mattress. I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, before I lift it to my lips and place a kiss on the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't realize how selfish I was being about this whole thing."

She says nothing so I continue, "You have given up so much for me. You've been scrutinized by the media, and I know planning this with work hasn't been easy." She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, unable to believe Donna told me what she had confided in her sister about her job. I know she doesn't want me to worry, but I can't help it. I love her so much and her problems, by default, become mine.

"Donna told you?" she asks. I only nod and she lets out another sigh. "Bruce, I never wanted you to feel like I couldn't come to you. I just-"

"I know, Diana," I say. I know she can handle herself. I know she doesn't need me to save her. "I'm sorry."

Diana scoots over to where I sit and places her head on my shoulder, gently kissing the skin of my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "I do want to ask your opinion on something," I say and she nods against my skin. "We started our relationship on the first," I begin. "Maybe that's when we should get married?"

Diana tenses for a moment, pondering over what I've just said, before she pulls back and looks me in the eye. "A winter wedding?" she asks.

I nod, flash her a smile, and bite my bottom lip as I consider the option I've just given her. "To persuade you a little more," I begin, "Neither of us will be swamped with work during that time. We both are free from other obligations, and we're going to have family around anyway."

She stares at me, contemplating what I've said. I can see her mind is running a million miles a minute, her eyes shifting from my face to the wall behind me as she tries to see if this is a viable option. I watch as she begins to count on her fingers, mentally calculating everything. "Two years ago I started the year as your boyfriend. Next year I'd love to start the year as your husband."

She is still for a moment before she turns to face me and smiles. She leans in and places a kiss on my lips, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me close. "January 1st," she says, "Did we just agree on a date?"

I am unable to help the smile that forms on my lips as she leans in for another kiss. "Yes," I answer and she gets giddy. The wedding planning is back on and now with a date set in place, we can finally get back to planning for the wedding and our future.

She rises from the bed and walks to the bathroom, discarding her leggings when she steps into the bathroom. She turns to face me and raises an eyebrow, flashing a smirk toward where I sit, the hint obvious. "Is my fiance going to join me?" she asks flirtatiously, disappearing behind the bathroom door. Her bra is discarded onto the floor and it is all the motivation I need as I jump off the bed and rush toward the bathroom where Diana has started the shower, letting the room fill with the steam provided by the hot water.

Diana squeals when I discard my own clothes once I'm inside the bathroom and wrap my arms around her, pulling her against my naked body. January first this woman is going to be my wife, and I cannot wait until I see her walk down that aisle, ready to start the rest of our lives together. Only eight more months to go.

@fyeahwonderbat

[saultnpeppah]

Day 1: Buying the Ring

Event time! I'm so happy I was able to get something done to participate in this event. It's been a while since I wrote anything and I thought what would be a better time to get back into writing for this magnificent duo than with a WonderBat event?

I've decided to base this whole event on the AU versions that I wrote for both "O' Christmas Tree" and "New Years Eve", because we all know I like to tie other stories in with each other. There's something about writing an AU that makes me very excited. If you haven't read those two yet, I would strongly suggest you do that to give you a bit of background. I hope you all enjoy this!

January 27. Metropolis. 12:32

Bruce

My heart races as I sit behind the wheel, my hands shaking as I think about what has led me to this place. For months, maybe even years, I have known this was what I wanted, but there is still part of me that worries this isn't what is the best. I feel like the last year has been nothing but a dream, and I'm waiting to wake up. But I don't want to wake up. I want to continue this, continue down this journey with her.

Diana has been my rock since we've started dating- actually she's been my best friend and support system much longer than that. Ever since she transferred to Gotham back in elementary school, she has been supportive, even when I didn't deserve it. She is such a kind, caring, beautiful and compassionate person, and I don't know what I've done to make her choose me, but I will strive to continue to make her as happy as she's made me.

My hands continue to shake as I shift gears, placing the car into park, before I turn off the engine. I let out a small sigh and close my eyes, gently biting my bottom lip in nervous frustration. I know what I am doing is needed, but I can't help but feel it is a bit overwhelming. Diana and I have talked about this before, but it was never an idea set in stone, and I wonder if this is something that I solely want. My hand reaches for the key still in the ignition, ready to bring the car back to life, when my phone begins to ring from inside my coat pocket.

My hand abandons its path to the key and instead digs into my pocket of the coat folded neatly on my passenger seat. It is on its third ring by the time I fish out the phone and I quickly turn the device to see the screen, my lips curling into a smile when I see the name flashing in bright letters across the glass.

"Hello," I say. I pray my voice doesn't give off just how nervous I have been all morning, and when I only hear silence I fear it might have. I soon breathe a small sigh of relief when I hear a chuckle come through the phone followed by Diana's voice.

"Where are you?" she asks, although she already knows the answer. She knows I have business to tend to in Metropolis, I distinctly remember telling her this a few days ago. I was never specific in what I would be doing, as I was worried she would figure out my plan and ruin it, however I realize doing so might make things all the more suspicious.

"I'm in Metropolis," I state, pulling the keys from the ignition and placing them into the coat pocket my phone was housed in moments prior.

She scoffs at my answer. "I know that," she says, "but where in Metropolis?"

It is my turn to chuckle as I shake my head. If I give her even the slightest clue as to where I am she will have no problem making the trip over the bay to join me, and that is the last thing I want. I would still like to surprise her every now and then, and this might be the biggest surprise of them all.

"Downtown," I say. I open the door to the car and step out in the cold winter breeze, reaching back inside the vehicle to grab my coat before I quickly pull it on. As I look over the tall buildings that line the streets of downtown Metropolis, my lips twitch into a smirk. The giant sphere that sits atop of the Daily Planet is in perfect view from where I stand, and I mentally add another item on the to do list, before I close the car door, listening for it to lock before I focus my attention back to my conversation with Diana.

"Hey, Di," I say, patting my back pocket to check for my wallet, "I have to get going. I'll see you later tonight?" I know the answer even before I ask. Diana has been spending nearly all of her free time at the manor, and at first it was a bit frightening; I was used to having the place to myself, with the exception of Alfred of course. But the more time I spent with Diana, the more I wanted her around. It was always so quiet when she left, even if it was for a few hours to get items from her apartment by the bay.

After her incident with the tree, where my stupid self insecurities had caused her to get hurt, I knew there was only one logical thing to do: I had asked her to move in with me. Of course she had accepted, and we both knew what this meant, but I did not care. Bruce Wayne was a bachelor no longer, and I welcomed that change wholeheartedly. It had been a few weeks since I had asked Diana to move in, and although she had a few items still at her place, she was spending every night with me and Alfred.

"Of course," she states, just as I expected.

I am just about to say my goodbyes when she chimes in with, "Don't forget we're having dinner with my mother next week."

I nod even though she can't see. "I know," I say. It is one of the reasons I am currently walking down the streets of Metropolis in freezing weather. "I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight," she repeats. "I love you."

I am unable to help the smile that forms hearing those three words. We have only been saying that phrase to each other for a few weeks, but it seems like we've known it for years. "I love you too," I return. I wait for her to end the call before I shove the phone back into my pocket and continue down the street. I know now, with absolute certainty, that I am doing the right thing. If thoughts of Diana haven't convinced me, her saying those three words have reminded me of all the reasons I love this woman so dearly.

XXXXXXX

"Stop that!"

My lips curl into a smirk and I turn my face, trying to avoid the death glare Diana and a few of our classmates are throwing my way. "Stop what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Diana only furrows her eyebrows even more and places a hand on her hip. My smirk does nothing to her, it never does, and I let out a sigh before I relax my face. "You're no fun," I whisper under my breath, but when she raises an eyebrow, I know she's heard me. How does she do that? The woman seems to know exactly what I'm thinking and while that might be fun occasionally, it's hard to keep myself from letting her know just how hard I'm falling for - scratch that- have fallen for her. It's impossible not to. She's smart, she's funny, she's the most compassionate person I know. Not to mention she's absolutely gorgeous.

"I'm a lot of fun," she says, throwing her arms up in frustration.

One of the guys beside her only scoffs. "That's not what Steve said," he remarks.

I watch as Diana whips her head to glance at Marcus, the one who can't keep his snide comments to himself. Her jaw clenches at the mention of her ex-boyfriend and she stares at the boy, silently burning a hole into the side of his face. If there was one person you didn't want to make angry, it was Diana. Sure, she was the sweetest person I knew, but even the cuddliest puppy could become aggressive when provoked - and Steve was definitely a sore spot for her.

Having broken up with Diana over the summer before he headed into the military, many had assumed it was because he was sparing her the idea of a long distance relationship. Others assumed it was because he didn't want to be tied down going into the Army. But I knew there was more to it. Diana never told me the true extent of things, but I had a hunch. Either way, he didn't deserve her.

"Callahan," I say, startling the rest of the group. I take a step toward Marcus, watching as he takes a step back and raises his hands in surrender. But I'm not done with him just yet. I take another step toward the sophomore and jab him in the chest. "Apologize," I say, narrowing my eyes at the frightened boy.

He nods and gulps before he turns to Diana. "I'm sorry, Diana," he says, "That was uncalled for." He takes another step behind his twin sister, Rose, and breathes a sigh of relief. I may not be the biggest, nor the strongest, or smartest guy on campus, but money talks.

"Okay, okay," Diana says. She places a hand on my shoulder and yanks me back, flaring her nostrils as she shakes her head. My cheeks begin to burn red as I watch her eyes narrow and I turn away from Marcus, Rose, and the two other guys who have remained quiet this whole afternoon. Diana hates when I jump to her rescue; it was one of the reasons she and Steve argued so much.

I know I should've stayed quiet, let her fight her own battles, but she's my best friend. Diana is beautiful, and she knows this. Her confidence is portrayed as egotistical, and people tend to have very few wholesome thoughts of her. She deserves more than what people give her. Not to mention her accent always seems to draw attention, whether it be positive or negative.

Diana glances over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. It is well past four forty-five and she needs to be home before her mother starts to worry; another reason she hates people being over protective of her. Her mother worries enough, Diana doesn't need me to add to it.

"It's getting late," she says as she walks to her desk. "How about we pick this back up tomorrow after class?" She closes the copy of Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet that has been laying open on her desk and turns to the group. They all nod, tired of having read and translated the infamous tragedy, before they begin to gather their own items. She turns to me and gives me a small smile, letting me know she's not as angry as I think.

"Great, see everyone tomorrow." Everyone nods and walks out of the room. When it is just the two of us Diana turns to face me and raises an eyebrow, silently asking me what I was thinking.

"I know, I know," I say, holding my hand up, stopping her from lecturing me. I shove my own copy of Romeo and Juliet into my book bag and zip it up. I watch as she finishes packing her own bag, her lips quivering as she tries to hide a smile.

"People already think you're more than a friend, Bruce," she says. "You know the gossip at this school travels fast."

I know this, but would it be so bad if we were more than friends? Of course it would be. She's my best friend, and I don't want to do anything to ruin the only genuine friendship I've had since my parents' deaths. When Diana and I first met, she didn't treat me like some fragile boy, much like what the rest of the world did. To everyone else I was someone to be pitied, someone who didn't know how to live the rest of my life in happiness. And for a moment, I believed them. But Diana saw through that. She helped me more than I like to admit, and because of that, I vowed I would never do anything to ruin our friendship. Besides, I didn't exactly have a good track record with relationships.

"Let people think what they want," is all I say. She glances at me over her shoulder and lets out a chuckle, shaking her head as she walks toward the projector and turns it off.

"Easy for you to say. You enjoy the attention." She continues to walk around the classroom, checking to make sure she has closed and secured everything, before she pulls the large key from her pocket. She nods to the door, telling me to go, and I oblige, grabbing both of our bags and stepping out of the classroom and into the empty hall. "In case you haven't noticed, I get enough attention," she states as she closes the door and locks up, pushing it to make sure it is secure, before she turns to me.

Of course I've noticed. But I wouldn't dare tell her that. I hand her her bag and mumble a quick, "Sorry," before the two of us head down the hall toward the main office.

It is quiet as we walk, both exhausted from the last week. I can't wait for Midterms to be over, and as I steal a glance at Diana, I can tell she hasn't been sleeping much. She turns her head and catches me staring, her lips curling into a smile as a faint hue of pink begins to grace her cheeks. "Do I have something on my face?" she asks.

I chuckle nervously before nodding. "Yeah," I say, "I don't know what's going on here." I move my finger around her face and flash her a smirk.

She realizes my joke and nudges me with her shoulder, shaking her head as we turn the corner. "I can't wait until this week is over," she says with a sigh. "Although this whole Romeo and Juliet presentation would be a lot easier if you could play nicely."

I only shrug. Group presentations were never my strong suit. Group "anythings" were never my strong suit. "I just hate Romeo and Juliet," I say.

She raises an eyebrow and places a hand on my arm. "Sometimes the thought of living without someone you love makes people do stupid things," she says. "Whether that's a lover," she begins, lowering her voice, "or a parent."

I am momentarily surprised by what she says, freezing in my spot. She gently squeezes my arm, letting me know she hasn't told anyone of how I used to feel, lonely and wanting to die, before she gives me a nod. I give her a weak smile, waiting for her to smile, before we begin our journey back down the hallway in comfortable silence.

XXXXXX

I quickly walk into the shop at the end of the street, quickly closing the door to block the chilly air from entering behind me. There is a middle aged woman behind the counter who smiles when she notices me. "Good afternoon," she greets. "How can I help you?"

I take a step toward her and pull the coat from my body, suddenly sweating by the sudden temperature change, and maybe the nerves. "Hello," I say. "I have an appointment with Gustavo."

She nods and clasps her hands together. "Ah yes, Mr. Wayne," she answers, placing the jewelry stand in her hand on top of one of the glass display containers. "Gustavo should be right in," she says, "Can I show you a few of your selections?"

I nod, watching as she turns and unlocks one of the vaults behind the counter. As she pulls a tray containing a handful of velvet boxes onto the glass, an older burly man walks around the corner and into the main display room: Gustavo.

My family has come to Gustavo's for generations. I knew this was the place I wanted to come to find that special ring ever since my father told me of the time he asked my mother for her hand.

"Ah, Bruce," Gustavo greets. He offers me a hand, which I shake, and places a hand on my shoulder. "When you called me, I was so happy." He turns to the woman by his side and nods. "Ask my beautiful wife Linda, I was so, so happy," he says ecstatically.

Linda nods. "He was," she replies.

"I knew I had to come to the best," I say with a wink.

Gustavo soaks in my compliment and nudges my arm. "Oh Mr. Wayne, you make Gustavo blush," he says. "Come, let's see what we have here." He grabs one of the velvet boxes and opens it so quickly I fear the hinges will snap. Inside there is a ring that would make any woman jealous. The band is gold and the diamond that is perched on top is bright and bold. "Now this is a beautiful ring, for a beautiful woman, yes?"

I continue to look at the ring, making sure to examine every crevice. He is right, it is a beautiful ring, but it's not the one for Diana. "It is beautiful," I say, "but not the right one."

Gustavo nods. "Yes, yes. Of course." He carefully closes the box and places it on the glass, before he grabs another two boxes from Linda. "Don't you worry, Mr. Wayne, we'll find a special one for your little lady."

XXXXX

Diana sits silently, staring at the two textbooks she has laying on the table in front of her. She quietly plops a carrot into her mouth and chews, her eyes never leaving the pages that contain all the information needed to pass her Chemistry final. She carefully flips a page, her eyes narrowing as she looks at the formulas, trying to memorize the chemical compounds that have been used in every lab she had for the past year.

"I don't think it's physically possible to memorize all of this," she says as she lets out a huff. She gently uses her index and middle fingers to rub her temples. "How are you not freaking out?" she asks.

I only shrug and plop a few grapes from my own lunch into my mouth. "You're over stressing it," I say. "You're going to ace it, like you do with every exam. I wouldn't worry about it."

She only throws a glare my way before her focus goes back to the textbooks. "Easy for you to say," she mumbles.

I only smirk and let out a chuckle. "Relax, Di," I say, reaching over to close her textbooks. She opens her mouth to voice her disapproval but I shake my head. "Enough studying. You need to eat." She lets out another huff but listens. She pushes the books aside and pulls out a sandwich, quickly taking a large bite.

I give her a nod, feeling accomplished that I was able to convince her to eat. I shove the last of my lunch into my mouth and chew contently as I glance around the open courtyard. All around are students. Some are carelessly eating their lunches or socializing with friends, unbothered by the thoughts of next week's finals. Some sit like Diana, hunched over text books and notes, trying to cram for exams. And then there's Julie Madison, sitting across the courtyard, locking lips with one of the Seniors. I try to look away, but I am not fast enough as she looks up and locks eyes with mine, before she flashes me a smile.

I quickly turn away from her and shake my head. I had had my chance with Julie but I was much more interested in someone else than her. Word of our break up got around pretty quickly and it seemed as though she were enjoying the attention it brought. "You gotta stop doing that."

I turn to face Diana, who once again has her face buried in a book. "Doing what?" I ask innocently.

She turns her head to glare at me, before she looks ahead to where Julie sits. "Torturing yourself," she replies. "Why don't you just go talk to her? I'm sure she'd take you back in a heartbeat."

I absentmindedly shake my head. "I'm fine," I lie. She glances at me once more, her eyebrow raised, challenging my fib. I narrow my eyes and put on my best poker face, hoping it'll do enough to not raise anymore questions. After a moment she shrugs her shoulders and closes her book.

"So what are you going to do? Stay single forever?" she asks with a smirk.

I know what she's doing and I won't fall for it. For a year I've had to endure Diana asking me why Julie and I never lasted more than two months, but I don't have the heart to tell her it was because of her. "Maybe," is all I say as I gather my trash.

Diana scoffs and I do a double take, offended. "How about this," she begins. She places her textbooks into her book bag and zips it up. "What about, if we come to our twenty year class reunion and neither of us are married, we'll get married?"

I chuckle, stopping when I notice she doesn't seem to find it funny. In fact, she is staring at me, waiting for an answer. While the question does take me by surprise, it's not as if I haven't thought about it. Diana is my best friend, and shouldn't that be the person you marry? Besides, what is the probability it'll actually happen. As I've said before, she's an amazing woman, someone is bound to find that out and marry her before I get the chance to.

"You're being serious?" I ask.

"Absolutely," she says, stone faced.

I let my eyes wander, making it look as if I am actually pondering over the idea, but I already know my answer. "Okay," I say after a few moments, "I suppose so." She gives me a small smile and nods. "But I deserve a full proposal," I joke.

Diana is unable to help the laugh that falls from her lips. "Okay, Wayne," she says. She takes the plastic tie that was used to close her bag of carrots and twists it until it forms a tight ring. "Bruce," she says, pinching the makeshift ring between her forefinger and thumb, "will you marry me?"

"Of course," I answer as I place my hand on my chest dramatically. Diana only rolls her eyes and hands me the ring, watching as I place it on my pinky and flash her my hand. The bell ending lunch rings from the other end of the courtyard and we both stand from where we have been seated. I gather my items and sling my book bag over my shoulder. I watch as Diana quickly disposes of her trash before she grabs her bag and we rush toward the main hall.

When we are inside I walk Diana to her next class, Calculus, as I've done every day this year, casually asking if she's going to go to the big beach party Arnold Zarkousky is throwing next week after finals. She is hesitant at first but I eventually convince her to go. "Okay Prince," I say once we reach the door, "I'll have you know I am not a cheap man. I think I deserve a ring that actually fits."

Diana only chuckles and pushes my shoulder forcing me to take a step back. "I'll get you a ring pop," she says over her shoulder sarcastically as she steps into the classroom.

"Better be the blue one," I say with narrowed eyes. I watch as she shakes her head and takes her seat, before I turn on my heel and rush toward my French class, hoping my casual flirtations with Diana haven't made me late once more.

XXXXXXX

"What about this one, Mr. Wayne?" Gustavo lifts the last velvet box into his hand and silently prays that this is the ring. We have been looking at rings for nearly an hour. We have gone through the original seven Gustavo picked out, and a few more he had in the display cases. We have even toyed with the idea of custom making a ring for Diana, but things do not seem to be going great. I want this to be perfect. Diana deserves a ring that is perfect.

Gustavo hands me the box and I carefully open it. I want to say it's perfect, but there is something I can't quite put my finger on. "I'm sorry Gustavo," I say, handing him the back the ring. "I just want this to be perfect."

Gustavo nods but I can see he is getting a bit overwhelmed. "I understand," he says. "It can be a difficult thing. This woman is a lucky woman."

I nod and let out a sigh. "Gustavo, I'm the lucky one. Diana is beautiful, she's kind, she's smart, and for some reason, she's found enough reasons to love me to stay around." I look up at him and let out another sigh. "When you find a woman like that, you want to make everything possible for her. You'd move mountains just to see her beautiful smile. She makes you want to be a better man."

Gustavo nods. His eyes are moist and he lets a smile form as he tries to fight the tears. "I understand completely, Mr. Wayne," he says. He reaches over and grabs Linda's hand, gives it a gentle squeeze, and kisses her cheek. "When you find a woman like that, you want to give her the world. Yes, you are a lucky man sir, just like me. Lucky to have found your Linda!"

I nod as I let out a small chuckle. I watch as Gustavo kisses his wife's cheek two more times before she pushes him away giggling. "I think I might have just what you're looking for," Linda says. She disappears behind the counter, only to pop up a minute later, a black box in her small manicured hands. She hands the box to Gustavo, watching with a smile as he opens the lid.

"Ah, Bellissima," he says, kissing his wife once more. "My wife is as smart as she is beautiful!" He watches as his wife blushes, trying to wave off the compliment, before he hands me the box. "Take a look, Mr. Wayne," he says. "I think you'll find this one is, perfetto!"

I grab the box from Gustavo's hand and take a deep breath. I open the box and stare at the ring. I can see Gustavo grab his wife around the waist and hold her close as they watch me inspect the piece of jewelry. After a few moments I close the box, a smile on my face, and say, "It's perfect. This is the one."

The two throw their hands up in celebration. "Magnifico," Gustavo says. He walks around the display case and places a hand on my shoulder. "Let's get you all settled Mr. Wayne, so you can plan the best proposal ever."

The two get everything situated fairly quickly and within the hour I am heading out the door back into the winter breeze. "Don't you be a stranger, Mr. Wayne," Gustavo says from behind the counter. "And you bring the future Mrs. Wayne here, so Gustavo can tell her how you didn't stop until you got the perfect ring!"

"Of course," I say, as I step out of the shop. I give the older couple a small wave, watching as they happily wave back from inside, before I walk down the street.

I let out a sigh of relief. I never knew this could be so stressful, but it'll all be worth it. This is what I want, more than anything. I wouldn't have spent all that time looking at dozens upon dozens of rings if I wasn't sure.

Turning the corner, I continue down the street. The sun has come up and the temperature has risen slightly, but the wind is still as strong as ever. I quickly reach into my coat pocket and pull out my phone, dial the familiar number, and wait for them to answer. A few moments later I hear the distinct voice on the other end whisper a, "Hello," and I smile as my free hand pats the pocket where the ring now rests.

"Hi," is my response. "Can we meet up?"

@fyeahwonderbat

[fyeahwonderbat]

💍 Steps To the Altar 💍

Day 7’s theme is an easy one to figure out - Wedding Day!

Make sure you tag @fyeahwonderbat for any and all submissions!

[saultnpeppah]

Day 3: The proposal

Day 3: The proposal for the WonderBat event “Steps to the Altar”. It’s a long one, but I hope you all enjoy!

March 1. Downtown Gotham. 9:10

Diana

I love the sun. I love the brightness it casts over the gloomy city, promising a better day over each hidden corner it illuminates. I love the heat that radiates from its core, the warmth it brings, giving life to those things left dead by the harsh temperament of Gotham winters. I love the hope it brings when you wake up to see the sun peeking through the clouds, greeting you with a magnificent glimpse of all you can accomplish.

Growing up in Greece, the sun greeted me most mornings. I often found myself staring out at the ocean in awe, wondering how something so seemingly small could be so powerful. When Mother and I had moved to Gotham, my sunshine filled days were soon overshadowed by the gloomy overcast and clouds that reigned over the Gotham skies most of the year. Eventually I learned to find the beauty in the vastly different weather of Gotham to my hometown. That did not mean I still did not miss the sunshine.

Every time the sun took a chance, peeking through the low clouds that filled the sky, I was out soaking it up. When I went back to Greece for a few years after college, I spent most days outside, soaking up the warmth, storing it up for the winter nights here in Gotham when it felt like the wind chilled me to the bones. The sunshine was a rarity, and I never wanted to take it for granted. This would explain why the phone call I had received an hour ago had frustrated me to no end.

When Charlie had called me at nearly eight this morning, I had had a foot out the door, ready to run some personal errands before enjoying my one day to myself in nearly three weeks. Things at work had become hectic, and with a new exhibit expected to open at the end of the month, I had spent every waking moment focused on work. Of course, once Charlie had called, frantically explaining they were having an issue procuring one of the items for the exhibit, I knew the sunshine would have to wait. I had a job to do.

My footsteps squeak against the freshly waxed floors as I make my way to my office, trying not to overthink the vague message in Charlie's call earlier. I am unable to help the worry that settles over me and my feet begin to carry me faster, making a sharp turn at the end of the hallway. The cell phone in my coat pocket begins to ring and I quickly pull it out, a small sigh escaping my lips when I see Bruce's name flash across the screen. He's been in Star City for the last few days, meeting with Oliver Queen and his company, trying to find a way to save the company of the reformed playboy. Bruce knows all too well how a bad image can ruin a company, as he nearly lost his because of stupid mistakes on his end. Fortunately for Bruce, he had Lucius. Oliver, however, did not.

Silencing the phone, I continue down the bright hallway, shoving the device back into my coat pocket promising to return his call when I am not in the middle of a drawback that could not only hurt my career, but also the reputation of the museum. Besides, Bruce will understand. He knows it has been a busy week, and although I hate the months when we are both so busy we hardly get to see each other, it's nice to have a partner who understands the demands of a job. Bruce doesn't fret when I have to stay late at the museum. He doesn't complain when I have to drop plans last minute because an artifact goes missing. He respects my job, as I do his, and I love him all the more for it.

When I finish my journey down the hallway, I continue into my office, barging in the door, ready for whatever chaos may be on the other end. My stomach sinks when I see Charlie on the phone, sweat dripping down the side of her face as she clenches the half eaten bagel that was surely her breakfast in her hand. She frantically waves me over, trying to distract me from the two men sitting at her desk, their head in their hands- whatever has happened is not going to be an easy fix and something tells me I'm going to have to cancel dinner with Alfred for the second time this week.

Immediately my fingers begin to work their way to the buttons on my coat, pulling one loose, ready to settle in for the day and fix this mix up, before Charlie lifts a finger and shakes her head. She nudges a few of her dark curls out of her face, staring at me with dark brown eyes while she nods to whoever is on the other end of the phone. "Of course," she says after a few moments, forcing a laugh to hide the anxiety that is beginning to creep up. "We'll get it fixed right away, Sir," she says, addressing the mystery caller.

My heart begins to pound. Charlie is usually so confident, so sure of herself and her abilities. That is why she is part of my team. When I took this job, I was up against candidates with much more experience, both in museums and in life. I was younger and I was still looking for ways to change the way museums ran, and many did not like that. My first year I ran into a lot of hurdles, but I pushed through, eventually gaining the trust of the board of trustees. That didn't mean I had been able to slack off. In fact, every exhibit, every artifact, every presentation, I need to do my best, which is why I work with the best.

Charlie is my main assistant curator. She knows the ins and outs of every exhibit here in the museum, and on the occasion I am not here, she is able to run things flawlessly. But the look she has on her face is making me worry more by the second. "I will call you with an update soon," Charlie promises into the phone, letting another nervous chuckle pass through her lips before she ends the call, slamming the phone onto the base in the corner of her desk.

"Do I want to know who that was?" I ask

Charlie shakes her head. "Andrew Lemming," she answers anyway. She wipes her sweaty palms onto her pant legs, turns, and grabs something off her desk.

Something big must have happened if the President of the Board of Trustees is calling demanding it be fixed right away. "Someone mislabeled one of the accounts," Charlie explains, glaring at the two men seated behind me. Arthur and Daryl are our newest hires, and they both came highly recommended- it's hard to imagine them making a mistake this crucial. "One of the shipments got mixed up and is halfway across town but because you're the one who put in the original order, you're the one who has to go down there."

She hands me a sticky note and I read the address written in blue ink. It's going to take at least forty minutes to get to where this is and probably another hour to get everything situated. I will definitely need to call Alfred to cancel our dinner plans tonight. The thought alone makes me sad, as he was going to tell me about Bruce's second grade volcano project that went horribly wrong, resulting in a complete renovation of the kitchen; it was definitely a story that would produce a laugh big enough to cure the stress of the last few days.

I shove the sticky note containing the address into my pocket beside my phone and turn on my heel, walking out of the office with a nod to the two men who are still sulking at Arthur's desk. I walk through the maze that constructs the basement of the museum, a sense of urgency lingering in my movements. It isn't long before I am in my car, jabbing the keys into the ignition and bringing the vehicle to life, before speeding off, hoping I can fix this before everything else goes sideways.

XXXXXXX

West End. 11:17.

The drive to the west end takes longer than expected, thanks to a fender bender on the highway that blocked nearly three of the four lanes. I had offered to help, silently cursing myself for offering a helping hand when I was on a strict timeline myself, however the two drivers only shook their heads and went about their day, already halfway through with exchanging information. Not wanting to press my luck, I drove straight to the address Charlie had given me, focused on the task at hand.

I knew it was going to be a long day. When I was done here, and had the artifact safely in my possession, preferably in a vault at the museum, I was in for a ton of paperwork. I would need to figure out how the mix up happened and how I would be able to assure the Board something like this would not happen again. Thank the gods I had accepted the second cup of coffee Alfred had offered this morning. I was going to need it.

I turn the wheel of my car one last time, letting the vehicle make the last turn that my GPS orders from me, before I shift gears, placing the car in park in front of a warehouse, and pull the keys from the ignition. My phone rings from the inside of my coat again, and I reach into my pocket, unable to help the sigh that falls from my mouth, worried about what else might be happening at the office. Bruce's name flashes on the screen once more, causing my lips to curl into a smile even though I swear my hair is graying from all the stress. Just the thought of him relaxes me slightly and even though I know I need to get into the warehouse, I want to hear his voice, if only to prevent the raging migraine I can feel forming at my temples.

"Hi," I say into the phone, placing it to my ear, letting my head fall back onto the top of my seat.

"Hi," is his response. "Everything okay?"

"No," I answer truthfully. He's going to hear about it when he comes back anyway, there is no use lying to him now. "One of the pieces for the Tibet exhibit is missing and I'm trying to track it down."

"How did that happen?" he asks. I find myself shrugging, even though I know he cannot see me, and pinch the bridge of my nose. Hearing his voice wasn't as soothing as I had wanted, and I can feel the tension growing by the second.

"I don't know," is all I say, as I reach into the glove compartment, pull out a bottle of aspirin, open it, and dump two pills into my hand. "I'm fixing it."

"That's why they pay you the big bucks," he says. I know there is that stupid smirk on his face and I shake my head and scoff.

"Shush." My eyes glance up to my dashboard, taking a look at the time displayed. My hand reaches across my body and unbuckles my seat belt, before it grabs the handle to the door of my car and opens it up. "I have to go," I explain, stepping out of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk that leads to the warehouse. "I'll talk to you later."

"Of course," he says. "Don't stress out, Diana," he says, "it'll work out." With that he ends the call.

I close the door to the car, clenching my keys tightly in my hand as I try to let out a steady breath, trying to calm myself. As I follow the cemented path to the front of the warehouse, I slip my keys into my coat pocket. My phone is inches from following my keys to their fabric resting spot when it begins to ring again.

"Hello," I answer so quickly I don't even bother to look at the number flashing on the screen.

"Di," Charlie's voice rings out, "you make it to the warehouse?"

"Yes," is my answer. When I reach the front of the warehouse I let the door slide open before I step inside, letting the hot air radiating from the heater behind the front counter warm my body. The receptionist who stands beside the heater smiles my way, pushes her glasses up her thin nose, and tilts her head. "Hi," I greet, trying my hardest to conjure a friendly smile. It is not this woman's fault I am here. She deserves some common courtesy.

"Hello," she says. "How can I help you?"

I shift my phone, moving the mic away from my mouth as Charlie is not the intended other party for this conversation, and pull my work badge from where it hangs around my neck. "I'm from the museum," I say, handing her the badge. "There was a mix up that I was told I needed to fix."

She lifts my badge, reads my name, and nods. "Ms. Prince, of course!" she exclaims. "Yes, I do believe we have something for you." She lets go of my badge and I stuff it back into my jacket, watching as she disappears behind the counter, only to appear moments later carrying a small wooden box. "Here it is," she says as she places the box onto the counter. She hands me a receipt and offers me a pen, watching as I sign for it, before she offers me another smile. "Thank you. You're all set."

Confused, I only nod and walk out of the building, the wooden box tucked safely under my arm. "Well that was quicker than I expected," I say into the phone, unlocking the car and hopping inside.

Charlie lets out another nervous chuckle. "Did you get the right one?" she asks.

My hand reaches for the glove compartment, opens it, and pulls out the pocket knife that I keep inside. My shoulder raises up and pins the phone to my ear and my hands work the knife around the box, slicing the labels and stickers around the box, carefully wiggling the blade between the boards trying to pry it open without damaging what is inside.

The box opens and I flash a grin, happy with my success. I carefully fold the knife and place it back into the glove box and place the top piece of wood onto my passenger seat, glancing into the box, hoping to find my artifact safe and sound. What I don't expect, however, are the four flowers laying inside. "What the hell," I mutter, lifting the flowers from the box, and rummage through the packing materials in hopes of finding the missing item. "There's no mask."

Charlie lets out a giggle and I stop my search. "I'm sorry," she says, "but I couldn't help myself."

My eyes narrow and I toss the box containing only paper packing material onto my passenger seat. Charlie has always been one to pull practical jokes, and while I would be on the receiving end of those pranks from time to time, none were nearly this elaborate or time consuming. "You're an ass," is the only thing I can say. "You made me come in for this."

"No, Di," she says, "it wasn't me. I was only a part of this elaborate plan."

My eyes scan over the flowers in my hand, clenching the four roses. There is a note laying in the box and I am quick to reach for it, my eyebrow raising as I read the all too familiar handwriting. I will love you until the last one dies. I take another look at the flowers and notice one is brighter than the other three and my lips curl into a smile when I realize it is plastic.

Bruce.

A comment made the night of our Freshman Orientation, when Bruce and I had been watching some cheesy romance movie where the main love interest had done something similar. I can't believe he remembered this, after all those years.

"Yeah, yeah," I say, remembering Charlie is still on the other end, "You're still an ass."

Charlie laughs harder. "Everything is all good here. Enjoy your days off."

Days? I know I'm supposed to be in tomorrow, but if Charlie says they don't need me, I won't push it. Considering I've spent a good portion of my actual day off on this wild goose chase, I deserve some time off.

Charlie ends the call and my fingers are quick to dial Bruce's number. It rings twice before he answers, but when he does, I can tell there is still a smirk on his face. "Hello?" he answers, trying to feign innocence.

I blow past his innocent demeanor, knowing he is up to something. "You're an ass," I whisper. "I mean, I love you, and the flowers, but you're an ass."

Bruce laughs and I fight to keep the scowl on my face. "But also romantic," he states.

I can't agree with his tactics, but I also cannot deny his claim. Bruce is one of the most romantic people I know. I secretly wonder if he enjoys the old romance movies I've forced him to watch countless times. "Yes," I agree, "but why?"

"Did you read the card?" he asks.

"Mmhmm."

"The whole card?"

The whole card? Was that one sentence not the only thing? I quickly turn the card in my hand, noticing the business logo in the middle of the card. The address is on the bottom along with Bruce's handwriting: I have some good news.

"What's your good news?" I ask unable to help myself. I know he's not going to tell me, he's going to force me to be patient. He's going to force me to play along with his little scavenger hunt, although I can't deny it's enthralling.

"Na uh," he says. "No cheating."

"Fine," I say, adding the address into my phone, getting the directions to my next stop. "I'll talk to you later."

"I love you."

"I love you too," I say. He hangs up the phone and I place the device on the dashboard, watching as my custom route comes up, ready to guide me through the streets of Gotham. I quickly start my car and drive off, wondering where in the world Bruce is sending me and what is waiting for me once I get there.

XXXXXX

Gotham Heights - Gracie CuppaJoe. 12:02.

The smell of coffee and fresh baked pastries fill the air as I step through the front door of the small corner shop. There are a few customers scattered around the room, each enjoying the last remnants of their caffeine concoctions and sweets. It brings a smile to my face when one of the baristas looks up from the register and offers me a large smile.

"Good morning," he says, wiping the counter with a rag, trying to clean before the lunch rush comes in for their caffeine fixes. "What can I get started for you?"

I contemplate whether I should indulge in another cup of coffee, having already had two this morning. However, the stress that both Bruce and Charlie have put me through should warrant another - maybe just a small. "She's with me."

I turn to face the owner of the voice. "What are you doing here?" I ask casually, smiling at the woman who offers me one of the small cups of coffee in her hands, before she turns to nod at the barista, who goes about his day.

Lois takes a sip from the remaining cup in her hand and flashes me a smile of her own, letting her shoulders shrug. "I was in the neighborhood," she says with a smirk. It is all I need to hear to know she's in cahoots with Bruce.

The two of us make our way to an empty table near the door, each taking a seat in a chair as we make ourselves comfortable. Lois slides her purse from her shoulder and places it on the chair beside her, eyeing me as she pulls out an envelope. "What did Bruce do?" I find myself asking, watching as she places the envelope on the table and slides it in front of me.

"I honestly don't know," she confesses. "But he helped me with that story about Lexcorp earlier this month, so I owed him a favor."

I nod, knowing full well that Bruce has been helping Clark with exclusive stories for years. When Lois and Clark started dating, he extended that courtesy to her as well. "How was Kansas?" I ask, attempting to make small talk as I grab the envelope from the table and peel it open.

Lois chuckles and whispers, "Interesting," before she takes another sip of her coffee, and ponders over the trip to meet Clark's mother for the first time. Having only met a few weeks earlier, Bruce and I were both excited and nervous to meet Clark's newest girlfriend. I wasn't sure how she would react to the fact that Clark still had dinner with his ex-girlfriend, nor was I sure how I would feel about seeing him move on, no matter how much of a hypocrite that made me. But after meeting Lois, I knew she would be a good friend, and after seeing the way she and Clark looked at each other, I knew they were perfect for each other.

"I'm just kidding," she says after a moment. "Martha was wonderful, and she spilled some secrets I'm sure Clark was not too fond of."

I chuckle and nod, knowing exactly what Lois speaks of. Martha and Alfred have much too much fun spilling secrets of Clark and Bruce's childhoods, and I know both Lois and I appreciate the embarrassing memories. "The tractor?" I ask, smiling when I remember the story Martha told Bruce and I the night of Clark's graduation.

Lois nods and finds it impossible to contain the laughter as she visualizes the event that occurred nearly two decades ago. She watches as I finish opening the envelope and pull out the card seeing Bruce's handwriting on the white piece of card stock.

I knew you would need something to calm your nerves so this one's on me. A few doors down is where you'll find your next clue.

I let out a small sigh and shake my head. How elaborate did Bruce make this scavenger hunt, and why was he doing it to begin with?

"The bookstore," Lois says, when I stuff the card back into the envelope. "Ask for Ryan."

I narrow my eyes at the woman but still give her a slight nod as I push my chair back and stand. "You want me to stay?" I ask when I realize it is rude of me to leave so suddenly.

Lois shakes her head, sips on her coffee, and pulls a small laptop from her purse. "No," she answers, "I'm perfectly content here." She waves her hand around the room and I watch as she begins to sway to the soft music that has been playing inside. "Much better than a stuffy office," she says, convincing me that she is okay with me leaving to go next door.

"Okay," is all I say, as I gather the still hot coffee in my hands. "Thank you." She nods and I see her lips tug into a radiant smile. My eyebrow raises and I know she knows more than she is letting on, but I don't bother to ask. Lois is a vault that no one can crack when it comes to confidential information. It is one of the reasons she has gotten so far in her career: people are willing to help her get information knowing she won't identify anyone who doesn't wish to be made public. With a small wave of my hand, I step out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk, following the path until I am standing on the stoop of the small bookstore.

My hand pulls the door open and I step inside. The walls are covered in vintage posters and artwork, signed and framed, showing the years that have gone into the decor of this place. There are rows and rows of bookshelves, lined to the brim with books. Novels, comics, and magazines fill the shelves and I wonder how a place this small place can hold what looks like hundreds of books. To the right is a small counter that houses two registers, a phone, and a computer to, what I assume, account for inventory and orders. All in all, it is a quaint little place, and I mentally remind myself to come and get lost in here on another day.

From behind one of the book shelves walks a man. He carries a box full of wrapped items in his arms, humming and bobbing his head along to the soft music that plays throughout the shop's speakers. He makes it to the front of the shop, still lost in the music, and places the box on the counter, before he turns to face me. His eyes widen when he realizes he is not alone and I can tell he is not used to customers this early.

"Hello!" he exclaims. He runs a hand through his hair and stumbles as he runs up to where I stand. "How can I help you?"

"Uh," I begin, trying to focus my attention on the small name tag that is pinned to his chest. The letters are unrecognizable, having been worn out from years of use, and it does me no good in identifying whether this is the man I need to speak to. "Are you Ryan?" I ask. "I was told I needed to speak to Ryan."

His lips tug into a confused frown. "Do you have an order?"

"I think so," I say unsure as I pull the card out of the envelope and hand it to him. Under Bruce's handwritten message lies a string of numbers. I was unsure of what they were, but when the shop owner turns and begins to type on the computer, I realize it is an order number.

"Ms. Prince," he says to himself, the frown disappearing from his face. He rummages through the box and pulls out a wrapped item. "Ah ha," is all he says as he hands me the item and the card. "I hope you like this," he says with a wink.

I thank him with a nod and pluck a business card from the counter, stuffing it into my coat pocket before I walk out the door, giving him a small wave as I push the door open and step outside. The bright glare from the sun distracts me momentarily and I have to squint until my eyes adjust. Sunshine in Gotham may have been a rarity, but when it came, it brought all it's glorious light. When my eyes finally adjust I take a look at the item in my hand, smiling at the fact that Bruce went through all this trouble to give me a little adventure while he was away.

The white wrapping is accompanied by a large red ribbon, tied to a beautiful bow on top, and I momentarily hate that I'm going to ruin the beautiful wrapping. Soon, however, the curiosity to know what Bruce has planned outweighs the want to preserve the wrapping, and I rip the package open. Inside there is an older publishing of the classic Shakespearean Romeo and Juliet.

The book is old but still in fantastic shape and as I move the book in my hands, I admire the intricate filigree on the cover. I open the cover and once again I see Bruce's handwriting.

Some people are worth dying for, but you, Diana, are absolutely worth living for.

Go to where we had our first kiss.

I smile as I pull the keys from my pocket and head to where my car is parked, hoping to find the answer to all this waiting at my destination.

XXXXX

Gotham Academy. 13:32.

Walking through the halls of Bruce and my alma mater brings back memories, some good, some bad, and I am overcome with emotions. My years here were definitely filled with both happiness and heartache, but if there was one person who had kept me sane throughout my time at Gotham Academy, it was Bruce. He was, is, my best friend. He was always there to listen to me when my mother was being overbearing and forbade me to do anything remotely fun. He was there for me when Steve broke my heart the summer after our Freshman year, and even though we had been friends since grade school, it was in these halls that I fell in love with Bruce.

I continue to walk through the halls. On a Saturday afternoon the once busy halls are nearly empty. Only a few students linger throughout the halls, trying to avoid the weekend detention they've been assigned or getting a jump on college prep exams. I don't envy them as those were some of the most stressful times in my life. One of the students looks up, their face having been buried in one an ACT prep book, and notices me as I continue down the hall. Her eyebrow raises as she tries to place my face and I chuckle lowly; being with Bruce, I have been splashed on the cover of multiple magazines, newspapers, and tabloid pages, the latter I am none too comfortable with, however I soon learned to get over the hurtful comments.

The student offers me a small wave when she realizes who I am and I respond with a small nod and a wave of my own, before I continue down the hall, turning the corner. I see my destination a few doors ahead and I breathe a sigh of relief when I notice the door to the room is the only one open, confirming that I am at the right place.

When I first got the clue in the book, my first thought was to go to the beach. That night, as we enjoyed a bonfire with half of the class, Bruce had kissed me. At first I thought it nothing more than a joke, as I was sure there was no way Bruce Wayne would be interested in the girl he had seen crying and shoving fistfuls of chocolate into her mouth more times than I would like to admit. However, as the night went on, I realized just how much I cared for him, and we spent the night together. I was nearly halfway to the beach when I realized the bonfire was not the first time Bruce and I had kissed, and I soon changed course to go back to our high school.

Our sophomore year of high school, we were forced to study and interpret pieces from Shakespear. Bruce and I were forced to work on Romeo and Juliet for the better part of the semester, which included a visual representation of the first meeting between the star crossed lovers - a visual that included Romeo and Juliet's first kiss. It was then that Bruce and I had kissed for the first time, and even though it had been nothing more than a platonic kiss between two people playing roles, sparks had flown, starting the attraction that only grew as time went on.

The room is dark as I step inside and I fumble with the switch on the wall, cursing at my nerves. I don't know why I'm anxious, but if this goes on for much longer, I'm going to fly to Star City myself and give Bruce a piece of my mind. The lights flicker on, illuminating the room, and I step fully inside. The room is the same as it was a decade earlier, albeit there are new desks that are lined throughout the room, and a new computer on the desk in front of the whiteboard, but the nostalgia is still there.

I make my way to the large desk and take notice of the small box in the center of the desk. As I get closer I can see that next to the box lays a card with my name on it. I open the card and see another message from Bruce.

I couldn't wait until the reunion.

Laying the card down onto the desk, my hand reaches for the box. It begins to shake as I pull it back. All the pieces start to fall into place and I suddenly realize what is happening. I open the box, letting out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, and chuckle. Inside is a giant ring pop and I can't help but think back to when I jokingly proposed to Bruce back at the end of our sophomore year.

The sound of shuffling from behind makes me jump and I turn to face the person who has joined me in the room. Bruce's smile sends butterflies down my stomach and I can't help but reciprocate with a goofy smile of my own. I can't believe he's here, having flown all the way back without telling me he was going to be coming back early, but I am grateful. Seeing him standing there, a few feet across from me, suddenly makes this all real.

"Hi," he says, taking a few steps until he is able to reach out and take my hand in his. He places a kiss on the back of my hand and gives me a smirk as he glances at the box in my other hand.

My heart beats faster when I glance into his eyes; those beautiful steely blues make my knees weak. The thumping of my heart fills my ears and I say, "It was supposed to be blue," cringing when I hear the awkward statement.

Bruce laughs and plucks the box out of my hand, placing it on a nearby desk, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a smaller box. I let out a small gasp when I see the velvet box and although I know what is happening, I still can't believe it. "This one is," he says. He pulls his hand from mine and opens the box, displaying the ring that is inside, as he lowers himself down onto his right knee.

The ring inside the box is absolutely stunning. The white gold band is studded with blue sapphires, coloring half of the ring in a beautiful blue color that shines under the fluorescent lights in the room. The diamond in the center is a marquise cut, modest yet beautiful, and the two smaller diamonds that lay on either side of the center stone only accentuate it's charm.

"Diana," Bruce begins, forcing my attention from the ring in his hands to his face. His eyes are soft and he bites his lip nervously, trying to gather the right words to convey what he is feeling at this moment. Finally, he says, "I've loved you longer than I can remember. I've nearly lost you more times than I want to admit, but we've always found our way back to each other. I was a fool for waiting so long to tell you how I really felt, and if you'll have me, I'll spend my entire life showing you just how beautiful, how special, how wonderful you truly are."

His thumb caresses the back of my hand softly as he clears his throat, and he sends me a smile to let me know this is what he truly wants. The Bruce I knew as a kid would never have allowed himself to be vulnerable like this. He would have never let anyone break into the wall he had worked tirelessly to build. "I love you, Diana," he confesses. "Will you marry me?"

My arms are wrapped around Bruce before he can register what is happening, and he laughs as I find my voice, so clouded with raw emotion it is difficult for me to get the word out. "Yes," I whisper, trying to clear my throat as I wipe the tears from my cheek.

Bruce places a hand on my cheek, carefully caressing the skin as I repeat my answer, before his lips crash into mine. He continues to cradle my face as he kisses me once, twice, three times, each time more urgent than the last. Before we make the mistake of celebrating in one of the rooms of the high school, he pulls away, placing a kiss on my forehead before he plucks the ring from its spot in the box. He closes the small box and places it on the desk beside my ring pop and card, before he gently grabs my hand and slides the ring onto my finger.

The ring continues to shimmer under the lights and I can't help but look at it, so in awe. The ring is beautiful, balanced and adventurous, just like the relationship Bruce and I have. "I love you," I say when I finally find my voice.

Bruce nods, gives my lips another small kiss, and stands. "I love you too."

Bruce helps me up and we embrace in a strong hug. There are so many questions I have for him, like how things with Oliver went, and who else beside Lois and Charlie know about this, but for the moment I only want to revel in the bliss being here with Bruce brings. I will find out everything eventually, but for now, Bruce's arms are the only place I want to be. I love this man, I always have, and I cannot wait to finally marry my best friend.

@fyeahwonderbat

[fyeahwonderbat]

💍 Steps to the Altar 💍

Day 3’s theme is “Proposal”!

Make sure you tag @fyeahwonderbat for any submission you make, and follow the #StepsToTheAltar tag!

[fyeahwonderbat]

LOTSLover’s second update for our latest event!

[fyeahwonderbat]

LOTSLover’s Day 7 submission!

[fyeahwonderbat]

💍 Steps To the Altar 💍

Day 5 & 6 are being posted together today! So we have “Dress Shopping” and “Bachelor(eye) Party”!

Make sure to tag @fyeahwonderbat if you have any submissions for the event!

[saultnpeppah]

Day 2: Family’s Permission

*Although I’d like to title this more Family’s Blessing because we all know Bruce is going to propose whether or not he gets permission....

January 27. Daily Planet. 14:23

Bruce

"I thought we were having lunch."

Clark looks up from his computer, where his eyes have been glued for the better part of ten minutes, and shrugs. "We are," he answers. "But Lois and I are on deadline, so we're going to have to eat in the office."

I only nod. When I called Clark last night asking if we could meet up for lunch, I hadn't given much thought into how much I was interrupting their work or their own schedules. But Clark is pretty selfless, and agreed to meet, even though now I can see he is scrambling to proofread the page of text on his computer. "We can reschedule," I offer.

Clark shakes his head, answering my question, however his eyes never leave the screen. "No, no. I'll be done in a second," he says. "Lois, however," he begins, although another voice interrupts his train of thought.

"Lois, what?"

The two of us turn and see Lois leaning on her neighboring desk, a box, of what I assume is our lunch, in her hands. Her lips curl into a smirk and she eyes Clark, who only blushes and tries to avoid her glance. "You spreading rumors about me, Smallville?" she asks, placing the box on his desk before she leans over and kisses his cheek, causing a fresh wave of pink to roll up on his cheek.

Clark chuckles and shakes his head. "I would never."

"That's what I thought," she replies with another smirk. She turns to me, her smirk turning into a broad smile when she sees me sitting beside Clark. "Bruce," she greets as she pulls her chair up beside Clark and takes a seat.

A few weeks ago, right before Christmas, Clark had finally gained the courage to ask Lois out, after months of blushing whenever Diana or I brought her up during one of our monthly dinners. Christmas night is when we had finally met the woman, other than a few press meetings in which she was one of the dozens of other reporters trying to jot down every word I said, and when she and Clark had left that night I knew she was going to be in Clark's life for a long time. The way he looked at her when she thought he wasn't paying attention, the way she looked at him whenever he would let out one of those boisterous laughs - it was what Diana and I had, and I couldn't have been happier for the two of them.

Within the last few weeks she had become one of Diana's friends, not bothered that they had both dated Clark. In fact, Diana was able to provide some insight of Clark when he was younger, and was able to answer some of Lois' many questions about the man. We were both happy to know he had moved on and was happy, after all, he was still my best friend (beside Diana of course). Which is why I felt the need to tell him I was going to propose before I actually did it. He looked out for Diana and I wanted to show him I wasn't playing around this time.

I watch as Lois grabs the box of food and places it in Clark's line of sigh, her eyes narrowing as he moves his head between the plain box and his computer, before he settles on the box, grabbing it in his hands and tearing open the lid. "We have a deadline," he whispers, pulling out one of the three burgers and handing it to his girlfriend.

Lois shrugs. "I've already finished mine and submitted it to Perry," she says with a wink. "You're slacking, Smallville." She nudges his shoulder and he chuckles, before he hands a wrapped burger to me. "Hope you like burgers, Bruce," Lois says. "They're the best in town."

I graciously accept the burger, letting the smell from the delicious item waft up into my nose. My stomach rumbles reminding me skipping breakfast was a bad idea, but I had been too nervous to eat anything. I only wonder how much my nerves will plague me when it comes time to actually propose. "They smell delicious," I say, carefully unwrapping the burger in my hand.

"Best in town," Clark repeats. He leans back in his chair and takes a bite, careful not to get any of the ketchup that threatens to leak off the side onto his desk. "So," he says, finishing the bite in his mouth, "what can we help you with?"

"Can't I come see my old pal," I say with a smirk, taking a bite of the burger in my hands. Its flavor sends my taste buds on a trip and I am convinced this is the best meal I've had in ages.

Clark tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, unconvinced by my fib. "I know you, Bruce," he says, and I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. He continues, giving me the clarification I need, "You would have waited until dinner next week to see us, unless you have some big news." His eyes widen and he sits up straight. "You didn't!"

Lois tilts her head. I can tell by the look on her face she is confused. "Didn't what?" she asks before she takes another bite from the half eaten burger in her hands.

"Did you propose to her?" he asks, his eyes wide.

I chuckle nervously,place the burger on a few napkins and carefully wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin, before I clean off my hands. "No," I answer, reaching into my pocket. "Not yet."

I pull out the small velvet box, watching as both Lois and Clark freeze. My eyes meet Clark's as I carefully open the box, showing them the ring I intend to give Diana. "Bruce," Lois begins as she places her half eaten burger back into the box. She carefully wipes her hands on a nearby napkin before she pushes Clark aside to reach for the box containing the ring. "This is beautiful."

She lifts the box to get a closer look, her lips curling into a large smile as she nudges Clark's shoulder. Clark tears his eyes from mine and glances at Lois from the corner of his eyes, trying to ignore the sly smile she is flashing his way. He bites his bottom lip nervously and I suddenly feel like I'm interrupting a well versed conversation between the two.

"Thank you, Lois," I say, watching as she hands the box to Clark. He inspects the ring, carefully turning the box in his hand as he takes in the look of the band and the jewels embedded in it. After a few moments he closes the box and places it in front of me.

"About time," he says with a smirk. He meets my eye once more and I can tell there is something he wants to say, but he still doesn't like to bring up the fact that he and Diana used to date in front of Lois.

"Lois!" someone calls from behind us. The three of us turn to see editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, Perry White, partially hanging out of his office. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lip is curled into a snarl that makes me glad he is not my boss.

Lois looks up at Perry and sighs. She jumps out of her chair and shuffles papers around, either trying to find something or hide something, I am unsure. However, when Perry calls her name once more, she freezes and stands up straight.

"What did you do?" Clark whispers, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing," she responds. She pats his shoulder before she walks to Perry's office and disappears inside, leaving the two of us to sit in silence, if only for a moment.

The two of us look at each other and I let out a sigh. This was never going to be easy, but I knew it was something that needed to be done. When Diana and I first decided to pursue a relationship, telling Clark was one of the hardest things I had ever done. I didn't want him to think I had betrayed his trust as a friend, but I wanted him to hear from me instead of from some tabloid who might've snuck a picture of the two of us together.

At first Clark was confused, then he was hurt, but after a few days he realized Diana was moving on, just as he should have been, and was okay with the two of us. That didn't mean he hadn't threatened me a few times, letting me know he wasn't above hurting me if I hurt her. When I made the decision to propose to Diana, I knew Clark was one of the first people I needed to tell. I needed his approval. I needed to know he was okay with this. I couldn't marry Diana and have my best friend still holding some resentment.

"I know this might be a bit weird for you," I say. Clark snorts and chuckles, nodding his head as he leans back in his chair. "Clark, even after everything, you're my best friend." He raises an eyebrow and I correct myself, "My best guy friend," I say, "And I can't ask Diana to marry me if there are still some unresolved feelings."

Clark's chuckle turners into a hardy laugh and he shakes his head. "No, no," he says, "I don't have any romantic feelings for Diana, and you two truly belong together." He takes a deep breath and sits straight. He looks past me and I can see his mind is wandering, trying to find the words that convey what he is feeling. "I'm just wondering, did the two of you ever-"

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "We never did anything while the two of you were together," I say. I watch as he raises an eyebrow once more, questioning the vagueness of my words, but I know I can't elaborate. What Diana and I did in high school is a secret the two of us will take to the grave. No one needs to know that I've compared every woman in my life to her, at least not now. "You know she would never do that to you, and neither would I." I grab the box containing the engagement ring from the desk and place it back in my pocket. "I may have had feelings for her, Clark, but I'd never betray either of you like that."

Clark accepts my explanation and offers me a smile. "Then I'm happy for you two," he says.

I nod and extend my hand toward the reporter. "Good. Now, will you be my best man?" I ask.

Clark grips my hand firmly and shakes it, nodding his head. "Ask her first," he says, "but of course.

"Perfect," I respond. "Maybe you can get a good word in with her mother," I whisper under my breath. "She hates me."

Clark laughs, throwing his head back like what I've stated is the most humorous thing in the world. "What makes you think I can help?" he asks. "Her mother hated me just as much. Maybe even more. She thought the whole farmboy innocent thing was a facade. At least with you, you're open about who you are...well, were."

Clark's confession only makes my stomach drop. I was hoping with Clark sweet talking Hippolyta and a heart felt confession from me, she'd finally see that I was only there to make her daughter happy. Now I worry this is going to be much easier said than done. "Perfect," is all I can muster, as I drag my hand down my face in defeat. "Well, I suppose I'll have to figure out something. She's coming to dinner next week and I will need to have something planned by then."

"Good luck," Clark says. He turns to his computer and glances at the clock displayed in the corner of the screen, his eyes widening when he realizes the time.

I take that as my cue to leave, scooting back my chair and standing, watching as Clark mirrors my actions. "Thank you, Clark," I say, stepping toward my friend, enveloping my arms around him in a hug that shows how truly grateful I am for this man.

Clark reciprocates my hug, squeezing me a little harder than necessary, before he pats my back gently, quietly apologizing. He really doesn't know his own strength sometimes. "You're welcome, Bruce," he says. "Next time I see you, Diana better have that ring on her finger."

All I can do is nod. For all of our sakes, I hope this is true. If there's one person who can't keep a secret, it's Clark, and if I don't propose to her before he sees her next, I don't know if he'll be able to stay quiet. "Better get to work," I say, glancing over my shoulder at the door that locks Perry's office away from the rest of the work room. I am quick to take notice of the mumblings that are coming from the office growing louder by the second and I wonder just exactly how far Lois went for a story; we all know she is willing to do whatever it takes to get the truth. It's why she is the best reporter out there.

I let out a small sigh, slide in my chair, and let out a small stretch, silently apologizing to my spine for sitting in that chair for as long as I did. I make a mental note to donate some comfortable and much more work inducing chairs to the Daily Planet, because there is no way I'd get anything done if my back was subject to that torture every day.

Clark's attention quickly goes back to the page on his screen, the blinking cursor taunting him as he rattles his brain for the last few sentences that'll finish his report before their deadline in an hour. I had come with one last surprise for the two, but it seems as if it'll have to wait until Lois is no longer being disciplined by Perry and Clark is no longer distracted with the looming threat of being demoted back to the small sports column as opposed to the investigative reporting he's worked so hard to claim.

"When she is done," I begin, watching as Clark begins to fumble with the keys on his keyboard, "tell Lois to call me. I have a story for her."

He raises an eyebrow and I can tell he's slightly offended that I haven't offered him a story, but quickly dismisses it when he realizes I've given him story after story for the last two years. He gives me a small nod, promising to deliver my message, and waves over his computer's monitor, letting me know it's time for him to focus back on his screen. I take the hint and walk out of the newsroom and into the elevator, pressing the box with Diana's ring inside against my hip.

XXXXXX

February 4

"Dinner was delicious, darling." Hippolyta gently dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin, careful to mind her lipstick as she rids herself of the remnants of dinner.

Diana watches as her mother places the napkin atop her empty plate before she grabs her wine glass and places the rim to her lips. "Actually, Mother," she begins, "Bruce cooked tonight." She places her hand on mine and gives it a gentle squeeze as she smiles, before she takes a sip from the glass.

I offer Diana a smile of my own, trying not to puff my chest out with the compliment she has paid me. My free hand reaches over and grasps my own glass of wine, carefully drawing it to my lips, before I take a sip of my own. Hippolyta contemplates what Diana has confessed, taking a sip of her own glass of wine. Her eyes jump to me and I can see the internal struggle she faces. She doesn't know whether she should let down her guard and offer me a compliment, or whether she should remain as stone faced as she's been since Diana's childhood and ignore what her daughter has said. When she offers me a small smile, I realize maybe she is finally accepting me and my relationship with Diana.

"It was delicious, Bruce," she says. The compliment doesn't go unnoticed, as Diana flashes a smile and squeezes my hand once more.

I give Hippolyta a small nod and place my glass of wine back onto the table. "Thank you," I say. I gently push my plate further on the table and look up at the older woman. Her blonde hair sits atop of her head in a loose bun and she wears a business suit; she is the only woman I know who would wear something so formal to a casual dinner with their daughter and boyfriend.

"So, Hippolyta," I say, licking my bottom lip nervously. I cautiously pull my hand from Diana's, offering her a smile, hoping she doesn't sense how nervous I am. Tonight I intend to talk to Hippolyta and ask for her blessing in asking for Diana's hand in marriage, and my nerves are shot. Hippolyta has never been a fan of me. Ever since walking into her house at the age of eight, I've only seen her smile a handful of times. Most of the time she's stone faced and focused, however she does switch it up with the callous frown that seems reserved only for me. I only hope she'll see that I want nothing more than Diana's happiness.

"How's business?" I ask casually, hoping my voice won't betray my face.

Hippolyta places her wine glass on the table and tries to hide the smirk that flashes on her face. There is a gleam in her eyes and I sneak a glance at Diana, who also sees it. She raises an eyebrow, curious as to what has made her mother's usual demeanor crack.

"Business is," Hippolyta clears her throat, "good." She turns to look at her daughter and knows she needs to elaborate, else Diana decides to interrogate her mother. And we both know if Diana chooses to do that, nothing is going to slip by. I speak from experience.

"Just good?" Diana asks slyly. "How so?"

Hippolyta shifts in her seat and lets out a defeated sigh. "We've already surpassed this quarter's quota and we're looking at expanding. And Antiope* is working on a few other deals that'll help with access to exports in other countries."

Antiope? Both Diana and I raise an eyebrow at the name and Hippolyta, once she realizes her slip up, quiets. The last hour Hippolyta has made a few references to a mysterious business partner and neither I nor Diana thought much about it. Diana doesn't speak business with her mother so she never bothers to learn the different companies she collaborates with. However, the smile Hippolyta tries to hide when she mentions Antiope's name has both Diana and I curious as to just what way Diana's mother knows her new partner.

"Antiope?" Diana questions, a smirk on her face. Is she hinting at what we've all been wanting to know all along?

When Diana was younger, Hippolyta would rarely date. And when she did, it never progressed to anything more than small flings. After her father had left when she was young, Diana rarely saw her mother pursue anything other than business relationships and partnerships. Hippolyta had claimed she was too busy making a future for Diana to date - or form a proper relationship with her daughter- but now that she was grown we all wondered if she would explore the idea of a long term relationship.

Hippolyta only nods. "Yes?" she asks, daring her daughter to ask the question we are both dying to know. But she knows even before the battle has started, she's won. Diana does not discuss these things with her mother. It took Diana upwards of three months to even hint to her mother that we were a couple, and another two to flat out tell her mother the truth. Had it not been for Donna, Hippolyta would have been none the wiser about the two of us. Hippolyta knows this, and she uses it to her advantage, keeping things a secret to gain the upper hand. It's what makes her an amazing business woman, but a vapid mother. What she thinks is best for Diana doesn't always end up best for her daughter. Something Diana has learned time and time again.

Fortunately for Hippolyta, Alfred walks into the dining room and begins to gather the empty plates in front of the three of us. He offers me a wink, glad to know his cooking lessons have finally paid off, before he lifts my empty plate and makes it join both Diana's and Hippolyta's, quietly reassuring everyone he will return to fetch the rest of the dishes. But Diana stands and shakes her head quietly, grabbing the last of the dishes, and following Alfred out. She does this every night, helping Alfred around the house whenever she is able to. It's her way of saying thank you to the man who has slowly become like a second father to her and I know they enjoy the quiet time away from my prying ears. I once tried to join them, offering to clean dishes while the two finished up the kitchen- I was quickly thrown out of the kitchen to a fit of giggles and I'm sure Alfred wasted no time sharing stories of my childhood to Diana. She always seemed to know another embarrassing story than before with each trip to the kitchen.

But today I won't say anything to Alfred. Tonight I will use the opportunity to get alone time with Hippolyta. He knows this, and he has promised me he'll try to distract her as long as possible. But I know I only have a few minutes before Diana comes bursting through that door, her arms filled with some new concoction she and Alfred have whipped up for dessert, so I sit up straight, take a deep breath, and face the older woman.

"I love your daughter," I confess. It comes out stained and I pray that she doesn't think there is anything wrong when I clear my throat.

Hippolyta only nods once. "Then what is wrong, Bruce?" she asks. "All night you've seemed nervous." She lifts an eyebrow, challenging me. "Did you do something you shouldn't have?" she asks with a smirk.

I only shake my head. Tonight I will not fall into the trap that Hippolyta has tricked me into since I was a teen, when she was convinced I was tricking Diana into doing things I shouldn't have. She was- is- the one person that always makes my confidence falter. But tonight is the night to show her just how serious I am about Diana, and I need to get straight to it if I want to ask her for her blessing before Diana gets back.

"No," I say. "I just want you to know I love her. And I know you don't think I'm good enough for Diana, and I know you're right, I'm not good enough for her because she deserves the world. But I want to make her as happy as she has made me." The words spew out of my mouth so quickly I have no way to stop them, but when I notice Hippolyta only smile, I take a deep breath and say, "I want to marry Diana."

Hippolyta only nods and I don't know who it surprises more, me or her. She was the person I was least excited about telling, yet she is giving me the least pushback. Hell, even Alfred asked me at least thirty questions before he was on board with my proposal.

"Do you have a ring?" she asks, and I am taken aback. No question on how I intend to propose, or how I plan on fulfilling my promise to keep Diana's happiness. Nothing I expected and prepared for. Instead, she asks the most nonchalant question.

"Yes," I answer with a nod. I pull the small box from my pocket and hand it to her, watching as she opens it carefully. Her eyes settle on the ring inside and her smile grows.

"This is beautiful, Bruce," she says. She gently closes the box and hands it back to me. "She'll love it." I only respond with a small nod, still taken aback by how effortless this all was. I don't know why I was so worried in the first place - unless this is a trick and Hippolyta is waiting until my guard is down to strike. "You have my blessing."

I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head. She responds with a raised eyebrow of her own and the two of us sit in awkward silence for the next few moments, unsure of who should be the first to speak. "This was a lot easier than I expected," I admit.

Hippolyta only chuckles as she reaches for her glass of wine, temporarily forgotten until this moment, grabs it and takes a sip. "Would you rather I forbid you from asking her, only to have you do it anyway and the two of you get married behind my back?"

"I would ne-"

Hippolyta raises a hand and interjects, "Yes, you would," she says, however she is not angry like her statement would suggest. Instead she lets a sigh roll off her tongue and she continues, "Diana loves you. You love Diana. When two people love each other as much as you two do, nothing is going to stop them from doing what they want. Not even your mother."

She lets out a sad sigh and downs the last of her wine, delicately placing the empty glass back onto the table, and says, "Besides, I know I did a lot of things Diana did not like. I kept her from a lot of experiences as a child. I only ever saw her truly happy when she was with you, Bruce. No matter how much your cocky smirk annoyed me."

I can't help but throw the previously mentioned smirk her way as I place the box back into my pocket and out of sight, should Diana come bursting through that door. "Why the change?" I can't help myself from asking.

Hippolyta glances over my shoulder at the wall, the corners of her lips tugging into another smile as her thoughts are clouded by a memory, and a fond one at that. "Donna has had something to do with it," she says, making reference to the teenager who is busy at her first semester of college. "But I've recently come to realize that love can make a person change, for the better," she says.

She glances my way and I can see the slight hue of pink on her cheeks. It is just as I thought. "Does this have something to do with that new business partner?" I ask, raising my eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Hippolyta says nothing but the growing blush on her cheeks is the only answer I need. I let out a small chuckle and raise my hands in surrender. I have the answers I need, and until she is ready to reveal that part of her life to Diana, I will keep quiet.

Diana and Alfred finally come back into the room, and as expected, she is carrying a large tray of cupcakes she baked this afternoon while I was at work. I simply shake my head as she walks to the table and places the tray onto the large piece of wood, her smile beaming as she realizes she has left me and her mother alone and neither of us are shooting daggers at the other - metaphorically speaking of course.

"Who wants dessert?" she asks as she raises a cupcake and places it in front of her mother, not giving her the opportunity to deny the sweet. Hippolyta looks my way and gives me a small nod when she notices Diana's attention is elsewhere, thanking me for keeping her secret. I reciprocate as Diana places a cupcake in front of me before she takes a seat beside me and digs into her dessert.

Both Hippolyta and I follow suit and as I stare at the woman I love, proudly nibbling on the sweets she has created, I grow more excited for what is to come. I have Hippolyta's blessing, and that is all I need to set my plan into motion.

*We all know Antiope is Diana's "aunt" but I decided to make her not a literal aunt in this one.

@fyeahwonderbat

[fyeahwonderbat]

LOTSLover’s epilogue is up, completing her Steps to the Altar series!

[fyeahwonderbat]

💍 Steps to the Altar 💍

Our WonderBat event for May has begun, with Day 1’s theme of Buying the Ring.

Please tag @fyeahwonderbat when you post your submission so I can share it! Also, the event tag is “#StepsToTheAltar” if you want to follow along.