|Lost in Transmission
Author: Geeky BMWW Fan PM
BMWW. Bruce tries to convince Diana to accept one of his gifts, not realizing the consequences of his actions. A silly one-shot.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Bruce W./Batman & Diana of Themyscira/Wonder Woman - Words: 2,896 - Reviews: 21 - Favs: 67 - Follows: 12 - Published: 08-06-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6214369
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: So it's been a long time since I wrote one of these fluffy one-shots. It was birthed out of my reaction to a certain cataclysmic event that happened in the comic book world within the last two months. Hope you enjoy!
Lost in Transmission
The sunlight filtered through the clouds of Gotham and the window panes of Wayne Manor, providing the perfect spotlight for Diana and her blue black hair. Bruce watched as she brushed the long curls over her shoulder and behind her ear.
Gods, she was gorgeous. And oblivious, which was fortunate since he was staring at her like a slack-jawed loser instead of the urbane and sophisticated man he truly was.
"What does this do again?" Diana asked, turning over the small device in her palm and peering at it suspiciously.
Bruce sighed, tiredly rubbing the space between his eyebrows. For the five hundredth time, "It's for communicating."
"Isn't that what the com links are for?" Diana asked as she walked over to Bruce, leaning her hip against his desk to face him.
"Yes, but…" The continuation of that thought died somewhere in his throat. He was never good with these kinds of things. Of course, he hadn't expected her to be so stubborn and old-fashioned. Ridiculous, really, since Wonder Woman basically personified those qualities. Well, that and much more.
"Then why do I need a cell phone?"
"Not everyone has a com link, Princess."
Diana pursed her lips. No doubt a reaction to his condescending tone.
"True, but I only wish to speak with members of the League, so I don't see the point."
"A cell phone can be used for other things besides verbal communications. It can take pictures—"
"Really?" Diana interrupted, picking up the phone and looking at it again. "How?"
Bruce made sure to brush his fingers against her as he took the phone from her. Diana reciprocated by leaning forward into his personal space. The scent of coconut assaulted his senses, but he recognized her ploy of enticement and distraction. He wouldn't let it succeed until he had accomplished what he had set out to do: get her to use a cell phone.
"It's simple. See this icon here? Just press it and…" He showed her the screen, which was currently focused on their feet. "Then find the object you want to take a picture of and then touch this button."
The sound of a shutter closing and opening went off and then there was an image of a pair of black loafers next to red and white knee high boots.
Diana grabbed the phone from him. "Nice."
Bruce thought so as well. In fact, he couldn't think of another pair of shoes he liked more than those red and white knee high boots. Although, the idea of Diana in stilettos wasn't unappetizing either. But that was beside the point.
"That's not all you can do with it either. It can access the Internet, record videos, play movies, take notes, and that's just the beginning."
Bruce tried not to flinch, even though he sounded like a used car salesman.
"I have no interest in any of those things. And besides, Bruce, where am I going to put it? It isn't as if I carry a purse with me."
Bruce's eyes drifted down to the golden W's on her bustier.
A gentle but firm finger on the underside of his chin moved his gaze upwards until it was locked on Diana's eyes. "Absolutely not."
Undeterred, Bruce's hands moved to her waist, slipping his fingers just inside the soft, red material of her top. "Between your wisdom of Athena and my twelfth-level intelligence, I think we can figure something out."
"Or I could just not use it. Honestly, Bruce, I thought you of all people would be the last person to convince me I need a cell phone. Aren't you worried about privacy? What if someone uses the device to track me? Or listen in on my conversations? Or what if I lose it?"
"First, I've run the line through a secure Wayne communications satellite, so privacy is not an issue. Second, the only person who will be tracking you is me-"
Bruce's lips twitched at the corner, temporarily settling into his habitual smirk. "I like to think so."
"Third, should you lose it, the phone is wired for remote detonation. Among other things."
He could see she was trying not, but eventually she smiled. "I should have known."
"Yes. You should have."
"But how am I to pay for it?"
The most desirable answer to that question would earn him a punch in the gut that would most likely land him somewhere in the next room.
Option two: "Consider it a League expense, so it's covered by work."
Diana's eyes narrowed, and her voice lost of its usual warmth. "Are the other members getting cell phones from you?"
Bruce narrowed his eyes in return. "No. They already have them."
"And they paid for those phones and the use of those phones with their own money."
"Just let me pay for it," Bruce said, instantly regretting his loss of patience.
"I don't like you paying for my things. You know that."
"Can't you just accept it as a gift," he cleared his throat, quietly adding, "from your fiance?"
Diana's shoulders relaxed, but she still looked unconvinced. "That's very thoughtful of you, but I still don't understand why this is so important. It's just a phone."
Bruce disguised the hanging of his head by busying himself with some papers on his desk. She had forced his hand, and now it had come to this. Time to unleash the final and most humiliating reason. The blush creeping over his skin made him feel unusually warm, and he tugged at his tie in an attempt to relieve his discomfort with his free hand. "I wanted to have a way of communicating with you privately."
Bruce let another second of silence pass, and only looked up when Diana grabbed the papers out of his hand, threading her fingers through his.
"You should have just said that at the beginning. It would have saved you a lot of trouble, though I still have no idea where to stow the phone when I'm fighting or flying."
He could only manage a half-hearted smirk. Again, this was just not his thing. Covert ops and making criminals wet themselves, yes. Tender-hearted confessions and blatant shows of affection, definitely not.
But Diana certainly made things easier. The smile she gave him was so brilliantly happy, he returned it without his usual mental agony.
"Now how do I..." she said, raising the phone and tapping the screen.
Only too late did he realize what she was doing.
"Diana, no!" He reached out, trying to take the phone away from her, but was too late. The ominous sound of a shutter opening and closing filled Bruce's ears with its terrible finality.
She showed him the screen, which depicted him in a state of confusion, his hand blurred as it belatedly moved to block the camera's lifeless eye from viewing his face.
"Now how do I program it so this picture appears when you call?" She tapped the screen a few more times, frowning slightly. "I wish you would have just kept smiling. But we have plenty of time to take more pictures."
"No. We don't. And I'm not smiling again until you delete that picture."
Ignoring him, Diana crawled into Bruce's lap. The chair titled back with their combined mass and Bruce forgot about the picture as her weight settled on the tops of his thighs. "What's your number?" she asked.
"Already programmed and saved to speed dial. Just press 1."
Diana laughed, dutifully pressing the button. "Of course it is." Bruce didn't answer. He was too busy picturing how the screen must now appear to her. Neat, white letters, scrolling "Bruce Wayne, Playboy Billionaire, Genius, Philanthropist, and Conqueror of Wonder Woman" across the black background.
Diana's perfectly arched eyebrow rose another quarter inch. "How...amusing."
"We all have our part to play, and mine happens to be that of an egotistical buffoon."
"Yes, but I think you're enjoying it a bit too much."
Bruce's hands traveled up the smooth expanse of her legs, stopping at the seam between the star-spangled bloomers and cold metal of her girdle. He would have to thank Diana for opening his eyes to the merits of bloomers and girdles. Right now, in fact.
"Can you blame me?"
Bruce figured she couldn't, because the next second her mouth was fused to his. His fingers moved from her clothes to her skin. Yes, girdles and bloomers were an excellent sartorial choice. And the red and white boots. And the red bustier. For an island full of warriors with an avowed dislike of the vanities of the women of Man's World, they sure knew how to design an outfit. The spare clothing left her legs, arms, neck, and back open to his careful explorations.
Bruce closed his eyes, cherishing all the individual parts that comprised his Diana. Burying one hand in her hair, he used the other to reach for the clasp at the back of her uniform.
The sound of a shutter opening and closing caused his fingers to fumble, an incident so rare Bruce drew back and blinked, surprised. His mind was too full of Diana to completely comprehend what was happening, but he regulated his breathing in an attempt to introduce some logic and oxygen to his scattered thoughts.
"I think I'll use this picture instead."
Diana thrust the camera gleefully into his face, and Bruce was treated to an image of him biting on Diana's lower lip. A perfectly centered image at that. How she managed to do that with eyes closed and limbs entangled in his, and without drawing his attention was nothing short of miraculous. Which of her goddesses was responsible for that? Aphrodite, he supposed, though there could be an argument made for Artemis. Zeroing in on unsuspecting prey was right up her alley.
"Diana..." Bruce rasped, tightening his hold on her waist.
"I like the picture, but if you are unhappy with it, we can always take another."
Bruce knew when to pick his battles. This wasn't one of those times.
Pulling Diana towards him, he resumed their earlier activities. And he had never smiled wider than when he heard the soft thud of Diana's cell phone falling from her fingers to he floor of his study.
A familiar ring tone filled the vastness of the cave. Batman, hard at work on a mission report, connected his phone to the Cray computer and stared at his monitor as an image of Wonder Woman filled the screen. The pose was different from the usual pictures he had of the superhero. One hand was laced through her hair, while the other was perched on her waist. All her magical weapons were off, and instead of the red bustier, she had a t-shirt that almost reached the edge of her bloomers. Granted, he loved her usual uniform, but this was nice as well. Especially the bat logo on the middle of her shirt. A fair trade considering the picture she had made him take.
"This is Batman."
"Guess where I'm calling you from," a cheerful voice rang out through the gloom of the Cave.
Underneath her boots, the screen read "Diana's Quarters on the Watchtower," which she knew he could see, but he humored her anyway. "The Himalayas."
"No. I'm in my room. Are you busy?"
"It depends. How long will this take?" He was almost finished with the report, but patrol would be starting in about thirty minutes.
There was a pause on the other end. Then finally, "I think five minutes should be enough time. Or we can wait until tomorrow. But I have something I want to show you."
"Tonight is fine."
"Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes. Bye."
Bruce ended the call, but found a way to keep the picture up so Diana would see it when she arrived. Till then, he kept putting the finishing touches on his report.
Four minutes later, the alert sounded that Wonder Woman was teleporting into the Cave. Bruce pushed the cowl back from his face and stood up. Before he could turn around to face Diana, she called out, "Wait, don't look yet. Close your eyes."
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest, but complied. "Are you sure five minutes is going to be enough?" he asked.
Two warm hands covered his eyes, though they were already closed. "It will have to do for tonight. I know you have patrol soon," came the answer at his ear.
He moved to lean back against her, bring more of their bodies in contact, but she said, "Don't move…So you remember how I was unsure of where to put my cell phone?"
How could he forget? Even though she'd had the phone for a month, he'd already had to destroy three of them and send new ones for the times she'd lost them. Plus, two more replacements for the times she'd dropped them while mid-flight. Not to mention the occasions she'd forgotten the phone in her room. While the added conversations they were able to have made all Diana's problems with her phone worth it, her inability to carry a phone on her person was getting annoying, and he had been working on a solution.
"Well, I found the perfect place."
Releasing her hold on him, he heard her take a step back. Funny, now that he was listening the sound of her boot meeting with the Cave floor sounded different. Somehow sturdier.
Bruce turned around, joking, "Finally decided to listen and put it between-"
Bruce stopped, mid-sentence and mid-turn. "Where the hell is your uniform?"
Diana blinked, a little surprised, but smiled. "I figured you wouldn't like my new uniform, but you'll get used to it."
Bruce looked it over. Plain, black boots with hardly any heel. Black jeans instead of miles of tanned legs ending in star-spangled bloomers. The girdle and lasso were unchanged. And the modifications to the tiara and bracelets weren't that noticeable. The red bustier was pretty much the same as well, but it was covered by the worst part of Diana's new ensemble: a cropped blue jean jacket that looked like it could have been lifted from the pages of Vogue. Back in 1982.
Diana smiled and spun around, showing off the back of her uniform, which again reminded Bruce of the missing skin. It was horrible.
"And look," she said, opening the flap of her jacket to reveal a small pocket where her cell phone was now safely ensconced. "Now it won't fall out anymore over the ocean," she said cheerfully.
Diana laughed. "You're enthusiasm is infectious."
"You really hate it, don't you?"
Bruce firmed his lips into a tight line, refusing to speak. Diplomacy was another of his weaknesses.
Diana sighed, but he could tell it was more out of exasperation than sadness. "Don't worry. I've kept the old uniform. For special occasions."
Diana walked over to Bruce, took his hands, and placed them on her waist. "And think of it this way, now you will be the only person who gets to see me in it."
Hmm. In that light, the new uniform didn't seem that bad. But it was still ugly, and nothing could ever change that.
"So, who made it?" he asked, endeavoring at politeness.
"Audrey's tailors. There are two other prototypes." Bruce could only imagine. One made of an ankle length skirt and turtle neck. The other a burka.
"How would you feel about my tailors devising a new uniform for you?"
"If it's anything like that one," Diana gestured with her thumb to the picture on the screen, "I think I'll pass. Besides, I like this, even if you don't."
"Well, maybe we'll just use the ones I create in private then."
Diana pursed her mouth, pondering over his suggestion. "Only if I get to take another picture of you."
"But this time in Robin's costume. The one without the tights. I'll be waiting for you when you get back from patrol." Diana planted a quick kiss on his lips, then flew to the teleportation pad and disappeared before he could argue.
Bruce growled, vowing to find a way to modify the com links so Diana would no longer need the cell phone. Then no more pictures in scanty costumes (at least for him) and no more tacky biker uniform. But first he needed to patrol.
Yeah, so I'm not a fan of the new WW uniform. The jacket, especially, needs to go!