A Minor Problem
A Justice League story by Lavender Gaia
Summary: Batman never asks for help. Especially when he really needs it.
Pairing: Batman/Wonder Woman
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League or any related characters. They all belong to DC Comics.
Author's Note: Well, my muse decided to abandon the one fic that I actually promised everyone I would do. So while I go beat her into submission and catch all the plot bunnies she set loose, I hope this will hold you over.
Dedicated to Jen for just being Jen.
Perfect. Just freakin' perfect.
Was he not the Batman? The so-called myth that every semi-sane carjacker, purse thief, and jewelry store-looter in Gotham feared? The only people that weren't afraid of him were the Joker, Bane, and other lunatics that he had to deal with on a nightly basis. And of course, the partners he's had during the years. Dick had long gotten over his fear, but he also didn't break a sweat doing quadruple flips one hundred feet in the air without even a jumpline, so he fit in more with the lunatics as far as Bruce was concerned. Overall, it was a pretty good ratio.
The Batman was not supposed to give in to human needs. Ascetic, that's what he was. Pain was nothing. Hungry, psh, what's that? And sexual desire? It was something he ignored, though that did get harder every time he had to be within a hundred mile distance of a certain Amazon in star-spangled panties. He was the perfect example of health, a legend in his own right.
Apparently, even legends could get the hiccups.
It was embarrassing, really. He was supposed to be in a Justice League meeting, presenting a description of LexCorp's new budget that Oracle had managed to find for him. Instead, he was standing in the hallway, trying to get these damn hiccups under control. J'onn probably knew he was out there, but his dignity was a lot more intact with one telepathic Martian knowing what was going on rather than six experienced team members. Especially if Wally was in a joking mood. Oh, God help him if Wally was in a joking mood.
There was a logical explanation of how to get rid of this. He was sure there was. After all, there was a logical explanation for everything. Except maybe Dick's obsession with pizza. And John and Shayera's need to constantly look at each other when they thought no one else was looking. And how simply thinking of Diana made his heart race… But everything else had a logical explanation.
Holding one's breath seemed to be a pretty popular method. Bruce decided to try it. He was actually quite skilled at it. But after a minute, something else occurred to him. Now the hiccups were emanating through his whole body, making him bounce a little with each one. This was not good. Anyone walking down the hall would think he was drunk. The way his day was going, they'd have a camera and his son's email address. No, this would not do. This would not do at all.
Inhaling oxygen and letting it out slowly, he pondered what else he had heard over the years. Dick once swore that drinking from the other side of the glass would cure them. It seemed suspicious, but he had tried it anyway. That had only succeeded in getting water all over the front of his business suit ten minutes before he was supposed to go to work. The first Robin had doubled over laughing at the breakfast table. "Oh, haha, let's laugh at Bruce," he had grumbled. And he did. But then, everything is funny to a ten-year-old boy. Didn't give Alfred any excuse. Bruce had seen that barely smothered grin on his surrogate father's face.
Alfred…hmmm…Alfred told him to eat sugar. No, no, not eat it. Suck on it. Yes, suck on it. He had never been desperate enough before to try it. But now he was more or less willing to try anything. Had it been plain sugar or the kind in the packet? Where was he even going to get sugar? The cafeteria was an obvious choice, but there could be people in there and this was not something to parade around.
An obvious one was to be scared. But Batman didn't do being scared. He was the one that did the scaring. Nothing scared him anyway. Well…almost nothing. Very few things, at least. And he wasn't going to go face a crazy Joker who had all his loved ones in danger just to get rid of a few hiccups. Nor was he going to fall asleep against the wall just to have a nightmare about his parents. That wouldn't be smart at all.
As he wondered whether breathing into a paper bag was just for those who were hyperventilating, a pair of footsteps were heard behind him, accompanied by a pleasant, melodious voice, "Hello, Batman."
From underneath the cowl, he stared up at the ceiling. Why? He did good for people. He tried to help the world. Why was it torturing him so?
Turning around, he faced his teammate. "Diana."
She smiled at him with those perfect lips, blue eyes shining. "Are you heading in to the meeting?"
Small talk. Good. She knew he didn't do small talk. Maybe he could get rid of her easily. "In a minute." Hiccup. "I'm trying to recall if I have everything," hiccup, "for my presentation."
The princess smirked lightly. "Smart of you. We wouldn't want to have any interruptions during the meeting."
He nodded. "Exactly. I'll be there as soon as I finish double-checking."
Turning towards the door, she looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. "You have the hiccups, don't you?"
She wasn't the best at hiding giggles. Bruce wasn't sure if he found that endearing or infuriating. "I'm sorry to say that I don't know any Amazon hiccup removing techniques."
"That's fine. I'll be along in a minute." His voice had a very pointed way of saying, 'Leave. Now. Spare me the rest of my dignity.'
With a large smile still on her fact, her hand paused over the door. She watched him for a moment. Before he could ask her why she was hesitating, her hands were on his face and she was pulling him towards her for a kiss. It was deliciously passionate, with his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist.
She heatedly sucked his tongue into her mouth as he pulled her as close as possible. He knew now that dreams—day, night, wet—were nothing compared to what Diana was actually like. This was so much worse than standing in the hall with hiccups, but at the moment he couldn't make his brain give a damn. Libido had totally overridden every professional instinct his body had.
When she pulled away, he was left gaping like a fish out of water. Departing with a mischievous wink, she entered the conference room. Bruce tried to make his brain work again. What the hell was that? Not that he was complaining, but…whoa. And now he had to sit in a meeting with her for an hour, when he could remember the feeling of her hardly-clad body against his own, how sweet she tasted, how sensationally she kissed…
Life just wasn't fair. But at least his hiccups were gone.
A/N: Yet another fever-induced rambling. I got the hiccups and it just kind of lead to this. I've never actually written a humor story and I don't think this entirely classifies as one. I apologize. I really do.
Questions, comments, reactions and reviews were greatly appreciated.