Murder at Wayne Manor

Chapter 11

Batcave; May30th, 20:17 EST

I wearily rub the back of my neck as I enter my sanctuary to find Diana already at the table waiting for me. Her nose is scrunched up as she stares at some papers in her hand and I absentmindedly wonder how she can make a face like that and still look so endearing at the same time.

Banishing that thought with an annoyed frown, I approach the large work table that we had set up down here to plan our expansion of the League as well as plans for the new Watchtower. It has become our makeshift monitor womb, a set of computers at another desk several feet away for J'onn and Diana to take turns at monitoring situations all over the globe.

"You only make that face when you're irritated or can't make up your mind about something," I tell her as I approach.

She looks up sharply at me, startled by my presence. The creases in her forehead deepen as she frowns at me, not the typical warm greeting that I usually receive. "I'm trying to decide the best location for the fundraiser we discussed at our last meeting. I have to get this finalized by tomorrow if I'm going to be able to get everything ready in time."

I slide into the seat next to her, leaning over to get a better look at the papers in her hand. I'm immediately assaulted by the smell of jasmine as well as another scent that I can't quite put my finger on, mostly because I'm growing a little lightheaded. One thing I do know for sure—it's beyond intoxicating.

She's wearing a t-shirt and fitted workout pants which only manages to add to the feelings that she's awakening inside of me, shutting down my thought processes one by one. I am both amazed and dumbfounded as I realize how she has been very subtly weaving her way into my life, into my heart and mind without me even realizing it. Even more astounding is that I don't think that she is even aware that she's doing it.

It's frightening as I realize that she's the only one who has ever been able to do that to me. No other woman has been able to affect me quite the way that she has or so profoundly.

"What's that look for?" she asks with a curious tilt of her head, drawing me out of my reverie.

I suddenly realize she's staring at me, waiting for a response. "What look?"

"That look on your face," she explains. "Is something wrong?"

"You smell like jasmine and...vanilla?"

"Oh, that's my new shampoo," she replies with a concerned expression on her face as she takes a curly lock of hair and brings it to her nose to smell. "I thought it smelled wonderful. Don't you like it?"

"It's fine," I mumble with a scowl, exasperated with myself with how much she affects me without even trying. She's dangerous in more ways than one. "Which places have you looked into so far?"

She looks at me for a long moment, contemplating my answer before responding as she releases the lock of hair, allowing the curl to bounce gently against her shoulder. "This is the list of places that I have written down so far, but none of them seem quite right to me."

"Why not?"

"This one is too small...and this one is far too pretentious," she replies with a wrinkled nose. "This one is too large and I don't like this one at all."

"What's wrong with the hotel ballroom?"

"I don't know," she confessed with a sigh as she tucks a raven curl behind her ear. "It's just not quite what I'm looking for. It seems cold and not very welcoming to me. I'm looking for something special, something warm and inviting. I want to make sure that this is absolutely perfect in every way."