Title: Impulsive

Characters: Wonder Woman, Batman

I've reverted back into first person! Something about this one made me.

Thanks to Lavender Gaia for the beta. Is it time for Tahiti yet? I am so ready for some sunshine and sleep!

Synopsis: Set just after The Terror Beyond. Bats gets a little impulsive…

"You're giving me a feeling, it's a sudden rush, acting on the moment, spontaneous, wanna be impulsive…reckless…and lose myself in your kiss…" – Wilson Phillips

I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing here or even how I had reached this particular destination. All I knew was that I was here, standing in the middle of the corridor on the Watchtower, staring at the door that enclosed the Princess of the Amazons and wondering why my palms were sweating and my heart was pounding.

Those bodily reactions, in and of themselves, were an unusual occurrence. But then, as I had discovered during the time I spent around Diana, she often made me act out of character, eschewing the logical and reasonable side of my brain in favor of action and impulsive gestures that I had suppressed for so long, including the physical. Being the Batman meant acting in an analytical and emotionless manner and yet, Diana had the propensity for pulling me out of the simple and the direct and leaving me wondering when and how I'd veered off my original course.

Just like now. I'd wanted a coffee or something, anything really, with a jolt of caffeine in it after leaving Monitor Duty and had headed briskly down the hallway, intent on my destination of the Watchtower kitchen. And yet, almost without realizing it, I'd ended up elsewhere, here in fact, standing in front of Diana's door and wondering what my next step should be.

Things had been changing between us for some time, some emotion that I had yet to put a name to had started growing between Diana and I, and I wasn't sure how to handle it. There were so many conflicting emotions that I hadn't even tried to analyze or deal with them, just simply let them sit and stir for awhile, hoping that eventually the answers would come easily to me.

But I realized now that I had simply been putting off the inevitable, that all those emotions had simply melded and congealed into one lump of feeling that I still wasn't ready to put a name to, much less think about while standing outside of Diana's door.

This was impulsive, I berated myself, and I was potentially and almost certainly headed for all kinds of trouble if I opened that door and let those feelings escape me. But somehow, right now, pushing them down, pushing them aside was simply more than I could handle, more than I could do.

And so, even as I sternly and forcefully told myself to keep walking, to step away from the door and continue on my mission for a coffee, I watched as my hand rapped on the door, a hard tap that echoed in the silence of the hall. And before my body could finally comply with my brain, I saw the door slide open with a soft whoosh and the stunning visage of Diana appear, framed in the doorway, her hair long and shiny, her blue eyes questioning as she peered out.

And then that look slid into one of surprise and I watched as pleasure filled her face, a smile rising to her lips, and a twinkle glimmering in her eye as she took in just who was standing in her doorway, begging entry.

Not that I was begging, by any means, but one look at those long legs and that teasing smile and I wanted to do exactly that, to beg her to bade me entry to her room and to whatever else she was willing to let me into.

But I finally managed to reign in one of my impulses and stood silently, absolutely still in the hallway, not wanting to betray myself by either doing something stupid or simply spitting out mindless phases of nothing since I wasn't entirely sure that my brain was properly functioning at that moment.

She was dressed in her typical Wonder Woman costume, having, I knew, just returned from a mission to defeat the extra-dimensional being, Ichthultu. The outfit was a bit rumpled, but all in all, she still managed to look like something out of a dream. My dreams, of course, ones that I had suffered many a night knowing that the princess and the knight simply didn't mix, no matter how what the fairy tales said.

And then, things had changed one night in Paris and my brain had finally grasped the idea that I had a chance, some sort at winning the hand of this woman, this Amazon Princess.

Since then, my dreams had been plagued with visions of the princess, our moments together on the Watchtower stilted and a bit awkward, particularly since I more or less ignored her totally, and the only time I experienced any respite from the entire situation was on patrol.

Needless to say, Gotham's crime rate has diminished considerably in the past few weeks, ever since the Amazon Princess had to begun to haunt both my dreams and my waking hours. I had been completely unable in the past few weeks to shut her out of my mind, a feat I was normally able to accomplish rather easily.

Women were deterrents to the missions, to the vengeance that drove me. But this woman worked by my side, worked next to me fighting for the people just as I did, understanding the world I lived in better than most, and that fact I had yet been unable to relinquish.

Looking up and down the hallway before determining that no one else was in the vicinity, Diana smiled softly and said, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Bruce?"

And that was it. With those words, something in my brain exploded. All the feelings and emotions that had been clutching at me, that had been demanded that I decipher them rushed to the forefront, clogging my bloodstream and clawing at my throat. Without hesitation or the usual analysis, I took a step forward and simply buried my hands in her hair and tugged her to me, capturing her lips with mine in a caress that was both unexpectedly hot and sweet.

And before I could even consider the ramifications of my actions, she melted into me, her body rubbing up against me in a way that felt natural, felt right, in a movement that felt unplanned, spontaneous and yet utterly right. The embrace continued for what felt like seconds, but could have been minutes, hours, but one of us finally came to our senses.

"Bruce?" Diana asked, a hint of color in her cheeks and lips, and I found myself aroused by the idea that I had put that color on her, that I had done that to her, that I had tangled with the Amazon princess and hadn't, as of yet, been murdered for my audacity. "Maybe we should get out of the hallway," she continued and when I continued to sit there, a little shocked at my actions and her response, waiting for the nerves and recriminations to rise up and slap me, she decided to take matters into her own hands and pulled me into her room with a firm tug on my hand.

Once inside, the door slid shut, the sound not like that of a bell tolling its misery but that of opportunity awaiting and arising. And I rose to meet it, but quickly found that Diana had already made the decision to act, taking my continued silence as a cue, and her body was brushing up against mine as she sought her lips with mine.

And, for once, I simply let myself enjoy the moment, let myself get lost in the strength and comfort of Diana's arm and lips, instead of worrying about the future, about the mission, about all the normal things that plagued me every second of every day. There was no part of my life that didn't belong to Batman, but now I shared both my dreams and this moment with Diana.

With her lips on mine and her full figure in my arms, I couldn't think of anything better that this moment, than this experience. The side of me that could only see, only focus on the mission, was silenced by this woman, this time, and I couldn't for my life of me regret the impulse that had led me here, led me to kiss her.

Especially when she was returning my kisses with a combination of boldness and innocence that was currently driving me crazy, literally unable to think as I wallowed in her.

Maybe coming here to Diana hadn't been a usual action for me, a "me" thing to do, but in coming here, I'd found myself, found that happiness could work its way into my life regardless of the mission. And I was clinging to it, to that radiance that encompassed Diana, eager to step into the light and shed the shadows, if only for minutes, knowing that I would return to them and that she would understand.

Even if I didn't understand what actions had brought me here tonight, I understood somewhere in the part of my subconscious that was still managing to function that I had made the right step, the correction decision, and that this wouldn't impinge or hinder the mission, but maybe just enhance it.

We understood each other, Diana and I, what drove each other, what sacrifices that we would have to make in order to make any relationship work, just to make our lives work everyday. We weren't ordinary people, able to cuddle on the couch after work and have dinner together. We were warriors, each devoted to a cause and a people and there was a mutual respect and admiration between us due to that fact.

Finally regaining my senses a little as we pulled back to breath, to simply hold one another, I said softly but firmly, "I didn't mean for this to happen, Diana." And I hadn't. I had never meant to let someone into my life or even let someone into my heart. Yet, in the shortest spaces of time, Diana had made me change my mind without even realizing it, her pull on my emotions so strong, the feelings she evoked in me so turbulent and impossible to control.

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she murmured, "I know." We sat quietly for a few moments, the only sounds that of our labored breathing as we sought to pull ourselves together, to compose ourselves rather than simply devour each other in the heat of passion.

"Do you regret it?" she asked, drawing back to look up at me, to gaze into my eyes, hidden behind my mask. She hadn't take it off, hadn't even asked me to, and because of that, I reached back and removed it, let her see the face that was hidden behind the cowl. She didn't look surprised at all and I realized that she had indeed figured out my identity during our little stint of time in Paris and Kasnia.

I took a second to ponder her words, but quickly realized that there was no burgeoning guilt rising in me, no sense or realization that this wasn't something that I wanted, just a simple pleasure caused by the feel of her in my arms and an ache that had been easing since we had first touched lips.

"No," I responded, before asking, "Do you?"

She ran a finger over the line of my temples before brushing soft fingertips over my cheeks, finally resting her hands on my shoulders. "You're not a stupid man, Bruce. Don't ask stupid questions."

And then she pulled me close enough, taking my mouth in another passionate kiss as I inwardly smiled and, gratefully pondered the virtues of being impulsive.

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