A double drabble following "Detective Work" and "The Other Road".
Diana arrived to find Bruce already in her quarters, staring at her painting of Zeus abducting Europa. She had barely closed the door when he snapped, "When were you going to tell me?"
"I didn't think it was important," she protested. "You never said –"
He spun around to face her. "Our child isn't important?"
Strangely, she felt an insane urge to giggle.
He had slid off his cowl and his blue eyes were cold with fury. "You think this is funny?"
She turned away. Her shoulders shook, and suddenly he realized that she wasn't laughing, but sobbing. He slipped his arm around her and guided her to the chair, kneeling beside her as she sat, leaning close enough to smell the orange blossom scent of her shampoo.
After a moment, she pushed her hair out of her face and looked at him. "I'm not pregnant, Bruce. In fact, I'll never be pregnant."
He sat back on his heels, stunned.
Diana rested her hand on his shoulder. "The gods gave me life, but not the ability to create it."
His mind reeled. He heard his observations, his conclusions spill from his lips.
She wore a small, sad smile. "Stomach flu."
Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Smell