Roses of Paradise

Author: Icha

Rating: M

Summary: Missing scenes from SupermanBatman: Supergirl. What happened to Bruce and Diana after Clark and Kara left Paradise Island?

Disclaimer: All characters with the exception of Acantha belong to DC Comics. No profit is gained in writing this but the simple pleasure of writing about Bruce and Diana, my favorite dysfunctional duo. Many thanks for Athena Phoenix for beta reading.

Wonder Woman watched Superman and Supergirl flying away into the starry night of Paradise Island. Behind her stood the newly erected statue in honor of Lyla, the Harbinger, who had died the day before in an attempt to save Kara Zor-El from Darkseid’s Furies. Wonder Woman gazed at Lyla’s glowing statue. After a moment, she turned her attention to the man standing beside her. The Batman had been studying her since a few minutes ago. She smiled, carefully touching his broken arm.

“Still hurts?”

“No, not at all,” grumbled the Dark Knight, moving his propped arm to prove it, but wincing instead. The Batman. Bruce Wayne. The most stubborn man alive.

“I see.” Turning her whole attention to his wounded arm, Diana continued. “You could have died out there.”

Flashes of images played in Diana’s mind, showing the moment she entered Darkseid’s main hall in Apokolips, dragging the wrapped up Granny Goodness with her. She shouldn’t be surprised to see him face to face with Darkseid – the Batman would do anything to save the world without hesitation. Yet she could not stop being worried about him, especially after finding him battered, even though his near-suicidal act had brought them victory. Big Barda had attended him, but he (as usual) had refused the help.

“I managed,” he snapped. See?

“Still, it won’t hurt you to finish the potion Epione has given you.”

“I don’t buy the hocus-pocus, Princess.”

Behind his cowl, Batman was actually happy to receive sincere attention from Diana of Themyscira. It had been a while since they were alone like tonight. Being on the Watchtower didn’t count – it was all work up there. Here... it’s more like a vacation; a break from the neck-breaking routine. Still, for image’s sake, he chose to maintain the stoic expression, which made him miss his regular banter and disputes with Diana. At least then, he didn’t need to cover his true attention and expression. Or did he? Who said that he didn’t actually enjoy the banter? Like right now?

“Sure you don’t. If you did, you would’ve tossed the potion to the plants when she gave it to you. Instead, you opted to drink it.” Playing with words. He likes the bantering. Wonder Woman took Batman’s hand, and led him back to the guest quarters. “And now, to prove that you don’t like it, you have to drink it. Following my games. Playing by my rules.”

“Touché, Princess. Trying to pay me back?” Batman smiled, following her lead.

“Not at all. Just to remind you that you are going to drink the medicine, have me check your arm again, and let me be sure that you’re not going to break it in an hour. Then you can go home.”

Home. To Gotham. Diana didn’t ask him to stay; he’d been here for almost two days anyway. She must have known that by this time, Gotham was occupying his mind. Yet, it would have been nice to have her insist that he stay. But then he would say no, sorry, no can do. Gotham comes first. Oracle needs me. Gotta patrol – Batgirl’s alone. Though I can’t do much with a broken arm anyway...

“Though you can’t do much with a broken arm anyway...” Diana echoed his thoughts. She looked him in the eye, through the white Bat-lenses.

“Not to mention the lack of sleep will decrease your reflexes,” she continued.

“Try me.” Say, “Please don’t go”. And I will object, giving dozens of reasons to leave you. But I will stay. Try me. He thought he saw a message in her azure eyes, the very same color as the Paradise Sea he had enjoyed this afternoon.

“I can’t. I might break your neck instead.” Diana smiled, patting his free hand and resuming her walk.

They left behind the glowing statue of Harbinger. The smell of jasmine, roses and gardenias mixed in the night sky. So sweet, so calming...

The nightingale sang from a faraway tree. So peaceful...

The half-moon had just risen, reflecting her silver light on the sea’s surface. Please Bruce, stay...

“I have to go back.” Batman forced himself to be disciplined. “Alfred’s been alone for a while, I have to make sure he’s okay.” It was no lie; he always worried if he had left the old man for too long. And Diana knew and understood that. She, too, had great respect and concern for Bruce’s surrogate father. Alfred Pennyworth was someone she would always listen to and care for. In a way, he was the father figure she never had.

So she nodded. “Have you called him today?”

“This afternoon, while he was doing the cleaning. He said he was glad I was not at home – he can do a total cave-cleaning properly.”

Diana laughed, and Bruce smiled at her joyful, contagious laughter. “He said hi to you, and asked if you could deliver some Paradise roses to freshen up the cave. ‘The cave smells horribly’, he said.” Though he would very much prefer it if I brought you home with me.

“I’ll pick them myself soon. After I make sure that this wounded person is in one piece.” And in peace.

They had arrived at the guest quarters. Batman, Supergirl, and Superman, had stayed there since that afternoon, after they returned from Apokolips. He had managed to sleep for four whole hours, waking up as the day cooled down. Themyscira in the summer could be very hot. He then spent half an hour just sitting under the tree, by the sea, admiring its color. So like Diana’s eyes. Then Diana came, checked his wound (she had mended his arm before he slept, while Epione, the healer of Paradise Island, gave him some herbal potions). As the sun set, they went to check on Kara Zor-El and Clark Kent.

Diana excused herself for a moment, walking to the bedroom where Kara slept. Batman leaned on a table in his room, flinching as he tried to move his broken arm. It did not hurt as much as he expected; something in Epione’s potion must have dulled the pain. Diana was actually right – he could have died in Apokolips. He was as determined as usual in facing Darkseid, but he knew that he actually wouldn’t survive Darkseid’s wrath had he not worn Scott’s armour (Scott was Big Barda’s husband, he did not come to Apokolips that time with them to retrieve Kara). Even Superman gave him the credit for his fight with Darkseid.

Superman. Batman thought of his friend, and grimaced. They were accustomed to their constant arguments, as both heroes truly represented the light and dark sides of life. Though Batman never crossed the line, Superman often disagreed with his methods and opinions on many issues, including Kara Zor-El. Her weird arrival on Earth (encapsulated in a Kryptonian spaceship within a Kryptonite rock – a huge Kryptonite rock!) had raised zillions of questions in the mind of the World’s Greatest Detective. What if Kara were a hoax, created by Superman’s enemies? What if she were sent by Luthor himself to defeat Clark? Where did she get her powers? How come the Kryptonite rock did not hurt her at all?

And suddenly, Wonder Woman had arrived, claiming that Harbinger had predicted a gruesome future for Kara, Diana had insisted on taking Kara as her protégé and had brought her to Paradise Island to train with Artemis. No need for explanations, as Batman had already been suspicious about Kara’s arrival. He had been surprised though, when Wonder Woman agreed with him that Kara was not safe in Metropolis. He had then helped Diana convince Clark to let Kara go with her to Paradise Island. He and Diana also went with Clark to Apokolips to free Kara.

Diana. Many people thought of them as opposite ends of the spectrum; Diana was the light and he was the darkness. Diana was everything honest; he was always in secrecy. Diana did not have any secret identity; she believed that her character (Spirit of Truth), position (Ambassador, humanitarian, plus a metahuman heroine) and strength eliminated any need for a secret identity. He, on the other hand, definitely needed a second persona. Without his Bruce Wayne identity, he would not have enough money to fund his expensive nocturnal activities. Plus, he had Alfred, Leslie Thompson and the entire non metahuman Batclan to protect.

However, deep inside he knew that they were not so different. Despite those dissimilarities, he and Diana had maintained a long-term camaraderie based on trust, respect and hope. Hope for the betterment of each other; as he realized that Diana somehow had balanced him with her sincerity and optimism. In turn, he knew as well that Diana often turned to him for advice and – strangely - comfort, as he was among the very few people who were able to object to her opinions and also give logical justifications.

He also knew that the only woman stubborn and sane enough to stand by him would be Diana. Despite their arguments and differences, despite the fact that he was a mortal and Diana was destined to be immortal. Despite their previous agreement that they should remain friends...he knew too that the ex-Princess still wanted him. As I want her as well.

That awareness suddenly emerged again from deep within the Dark Knight’s mind. He had thought about it now and then, but always managed to push the thoughts away to the hidden corners of his mind. But now, after the rough fight between life and death in Apokolips, he suddenly was very aware that he was alive. It didn’t make sense – the Batman always walked the thin line between life and death. But today... he suddenly appreciated his life, and he treasured it dearly. Suddenly, he wanted to embrace everything he still had, or might have, if he tried. Including her.

Diana returned, carrying a tray of medical equipment. She had also changed from her uniform to a loose white tunic, flowing as she walked. She usually wore tunics or dresses during her leisure time on the island, and right now was leisure time for her.

“I don’t think you need to re-check the arm.” Batman said, as Diana started to undo the bandage. “It’s still intact, and Alfred will surely check it soon.” Plus, I can’t have your hands running over my skin right now. Not in that dress. I might not be able to go home.

“Are you sure?” Diana stopped. Alfred was a talented paramedic. He always took care of Bruce’s wounds, succeeding in almost every case. The broken arm was just a small thing compared to Bruce’s other wounds. In addition, Epione’s potion worked well with his body. Not only was his complexion not as pale as before, his immune system had improved without his knowledge. Plus, I can’t have my hands touching your skin right now. Not in this dress. I might want you to stay.

“Positive.” It’s too dangerous. Period.

“Very well, then. But only because it’s Alfred,” Diana conceded. “I still want you to finish this, though” She gave Bruce a silver goblet. “It’s the rule. And Alfred doesn’t have the herbs.”

“I can import the ingredients for him from here.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in hocus-pocus,” Diana grinned.

“I don’t. But he does,” Bruce smirked. All right, Princess, it’s a draw.

He finished the potion. It was bitter, but he was used to bitter pills and liquids. And bitter life.

“Done.” He handed the goblet back to Diana in victory.

“Good boy.” Diana put the goblet back to the table. “Now for the roses.” She turned to go, then paused. “Perhaps you would care to join me? The garden is on the way to the Batwing.”

“Sure.” Batman checked his utility belt, making sure he left nothing behind, then followed Diana to the rose garden.

He had never seen anything like it. The small rose garden was indeed one of the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen. The dim light of the torches was enough for him to identify more than twenty varieties - in the dark. How many more would he be able to recognize in the daylight? He had gotten good at identifying various species and varieties of plants, including roses, thanks to Poison Ivy’s criminal activities (well, he had too learn how to defeat her, and it equals to being a good botanist). But Bruce was sure that he would be able to learn more from Diana’s garden, provided that he had enough time. Ivy would love this place.

“Our collection is not the most comprehensive in the world.” Diana admitted. “But I try to add more every time I return home from Man’s World. Acantha, our head gardener, likes the Asian varieties. She also went to Europe, to L’Hay les Roses and Bloemenstad to learn from rose experts there. And she loves the roses Alfred gave me to grow here.”

“I didn’t know that.” Bruce turned to Diana. He pushed up his cowl, revealing an interested expression. Something about the garden made him want to smell the fragrance freely, feel the night air touching his face directly.

Diana beamed at his unmasked face. “That’s more like it.” She walked away to a small hut nearby, returning with a pair of rose scissors and a basket made of local roots.

“Yes, actually –” walking past Bruce, “– these are his roses. Or rather, your mother’s.”

She gestured at a bunch of beautiful white roses. The buds were half blooming; the fragrance was everywhere. “He calls them – “

“– Martha,” whispered Bruce. He knew that his mother had loved gardening, and had even succeeded in producing a new hybrid. A long time ago, Alfred had shown him the exact variety Diana pointed at. He was amazed, but didn’t explore the garden further. He studied plants to defeat Ivy, not to collect and admire them.

“Yes, ‘Martha’.” Diana gazed into Bruce’s eyes. His blue eyes were darker than hers, like a deep blue sea. “If you look closely, you will see the green hue inside, at the base of each petal. A subtle green, very beautiful.” She cut the rose, showing it to Bruce. With the scissors, she then cut some more roses with long stems, carefully arranging them inside the basket.

“They will last until tomorrow without water.” In case you change your mind. In case I dare to ask you... “I know Alfred still grows them, but I figured out that he also wants to see how they grew here.”

“I’m sure he will.” God...The roses are as white as her dress. No. I can’t stay. Have to go. No...Want to stay. No...

Diana’s expression changed slightly. Struggling to maintain her composure, she turned her attention to another rosebush.

“Winter Persephone,” she said, pointing at a deep scarlet rose with fully open petals. “A must-have for summer, created by dear Acantha. And this...” she gestured at another rose, bright yellow in color.

“Wait. Let me guess...” Bruce tilted his head, pretending to think. “Apollo the Great?”

“Sorry, try again!” Diana teased. “The Bright Helios.” She continued explaining, cutting some Helios and Persephone, putting them together with Martha. Then she continued the tour de roses with Bruce walking slowly next to her.

It was a very nice tour for Bruce – and a very painful one, as well. Every time Diana stopped to note a red rose, he just wanted to kiss her red lips instead. Every white rose made him think of her white tunic, how softly flowing the fabric was, how beautiful her body and heart were beneath it. A golden rose (Apollo) had almost made him pluck the rose instead and insert the flower to Diana’s raven hair. A Spring Eos pink rose had made him want to grab her, throw her to the ground, and make love to her here and now. And when Diana cut and put bright orange roses into the basket, he raised his hand.

“I think that will suffice, Diana.”

“You don’t like Isis?” She showed him the orange rose. “It’s Bana’s favourite. Even Artemis likes it. And she hates gardening.”

“No, I do.” I just have to go now, or I’ll stay till sunrise. “But it’s too much. I don’t intend to open a flower shop.”

“Funny.” Diana raised her eyebrow. “I thought you always wanted to be a florist.” Looking at her now very full basket, she agreed. “I think you’re right. Just let me get the last one for you. It’s my favorite.” She bent over, cut a stem and turned to Bruce.

“Troia.” She showed him a bright crimson red rose, petals half open. “It’s her favorite; it bloomed for the first time a few days before her coronation.” A few years before she...

“It’s beautiful.” Bruce solemnly accepted the rose, inhaling the fragrance.

“As she always is.” Diana whispered, half to herself. Is. She always believed that Donna Troy lived inside her heart.

“You miss her.”

Silence. A slow nod. “All the time.”

“Still blame yourself?”

“Not anymore, no. I just miss her so much. I haven’t had many girl talks lately, not without her.” Her hands played with the rose’s stem.

“You hoped that it wasn’t Kara coming here. You had hoped for Donna instead.”

Diana stood still. Silver tears started to fall.

“I wish...I wish I could bring her back. And then I would not let her go out of my sight. Well, not always. But I promise that I would always check on her, making sure that she’s all right. I’d create a specific mechanism to warn me if she’s in any battle. You...you would help me then, wouldn’t you?” Diana lifted her head, facing the Batman. Not Batman. Bruce. A solitary man who understood her deeply, better than anyone else.

“Am I crazy? For... for hoping that she...”

Silence again. Bruce took Troia from Diana’s hand, examining the bright color.

“No.” He answered after a while. “Because I also hope and plan the same for –“

“Jason.” Diana nodded in sympathy. Jason Todd. The same hurts, same burdens, same understanding.

Bruce shifted his gaze to the half-moon above. “I met a fake Jason a few months back in Gotham. I hated the guy for playing with my feelings for Jason, for tainting his memories. But I also half-expected him to be the true Jason.”

“Clayface.” Diana understood that during the Hush hours in Gotham, Clayface had turned himself into Jason Todd, in an attempt to kill Bruce.

Bruce faced Diana again. “I also wished it was Jason living again, instead of Kara coming here. I guess that’s why I can understand Clark being so overprotective of her. Had Jason came back to life, I would do anything to ensure his safety – beyond my own.”

“Would you...do anything to bring him back?”

“Would you, for Donna?”

Their eyes met, speaking to each other.

“Yes.” She trembled. “Of course I would...”

“I would, too.” Bruce looked right into Diana’s eyes. They were beautiful; clear, with no deceptions, no agenda. Just pain. And hope. He took the rose and the basket from her hands, put the rose inside the basket and placed it on the grass. He then spread his cape around her, reaching her, hugging her, protecting her from further sadness.

She didn’t reject him. She let go, leaning her head on his chest, releasing all her tears, all her sadness. With Donna, she could have nice girl-talk sessions, telling her sister all of her problems. She had then, in return, listened to Donna’s long chatter about anything, from the newest Elizabeth Arden perfume to the latest Oscar de la Renta bags of the season. From A to Z in the superhero community; Aquaman to Zatanna. From the cute boy next door to the charming guy at the ice cream place.

With Bruce, all she had to do was open her gate, pouring herself over him, letting him absorb the pain in silence. They didn’t need many words between them. They never had, they never would. Their hearts spoke to each other. And in moments like this, the communication was very clear. Silent, but clear.

Diana remembered almost two years ago when Donna died. The whole superhero community had gathered on Paradise Island, paying a tribute to Troia, the fallen warrior. She remembered noticing Batman, standing at the back with Nightwing, in silence. She hadn’t expected him to stay for the reception later at her apartment. Her and Donna’s apartment. But, to her surprise, he had stayed. Until late. Until all the guests had gone home. Until the tearful Clark left with Lois.

Bruce had stayed with her then. Asking her how she felt. Standing still, sharing her sadness over the falling Donna. Understanding her regret that she had not been able to save her sister. He had also lost a protégé, after all. He understood deeply. Painfully.

Diana remembered, that like tonight, that night he also spread his cape, hugging and comforting her. No words, just comfort. Just for a while. Then he had left, swallowed by the night of New York. But when he left that night, she had felt much better, much relieved. Although she was still sad. Until now.

She wanted him to stay tonight to continue hugging her. She expected him to take off soon, though. He had to leave. He already had a basket full of roses for Alfred. He should go.

“You should go.” She muttered, still burying her head on his chest.

“Yes, I know.” He didn’t move.

“Will you go?” she raised her head, searching for his answer.

He did not reply, gazing instead into her eyes. After a while, he whispered, “I thought you gave the orders here.”

Diana stopped searching, determined. “Yes.” She straightened her head. “Stay.”

Bruce didn’t answer her. Instead, he planted his lips on Diana’s, slowly, gently. Not surprised at all, Diana opened her lips, welcoming Bruce’s. She knew it would happen, sooner or later. They kissed slowly, gently, as gentle as the night breeze. Then he changed. More rapidly, full of passion. All the thoughts he had when observing Diana in the garden swirled in his head, making him breath heavier. Diana too, to his relief, opened herself and matched his rhythm. She kissed – no, crushed – his lips hungrily. She moved her hands, cupping his head, bringing him closer to her.

Bruce suddenly stopped, his eyes snapped open.

“We...have decided...” he stopped.

“Not to?” Diana halted her caresses. “You regret it?” She lowered her gaze. “You want to go now.”

Silence. The night breeze brushed their sweaty faces.

“No.” Bruce lifted Diana’s chin with one hand. “I think we should revisit our agreement and think about it once more.”

Diana beamed brighter than the moon. “Now?”

“No, Princess, - ” Bruce kissed her again. “...later...”

The stars and the moon glowed brightly in the sky. The nightingale sang again as they fell asleep. A bat flew by very close to them. A small fox came, sniffing the roses, and then jumped to leave.

And Bruce and Diana kept their embrace, hearts became one in peace.

-FIN-