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Fic: Pajama Talk ;) (1/1)

Title: Pajama Talk ;) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Diana, Clark/Bruce
Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Diana takes Clark’s sartorial advice, much to Steve's delight and Bruce's chagrin. ;)
Date Of Completion: February 25, 2018
Date Of Posting: April 15, 2018
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 730
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Another story written during the 2018 Winter Olympics but only now edited and ready! Enjoy! :)



Diana entered the modest, red-brick house on the quiet Boston Street. She could hear the TV on at low volume in the living room. Closing the door, she smiled as she saw Steve fast asleep on the couch, dressed in a pair of pale-blue pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. His stocking feet were propped up on the old coffee table as he snored lightly. She approached silently and touched his tousled blond hair, applying a feather-light kiss to his forehead.

She went to the bedroom and peeled off her costume, tossing it on the bed. She took a long, leisurely shower, muscles relaxing as she let the hot water sluice down her body. She tilted her head back, the spray of water cleansing her face and hair. Fighting villains in mechanized suits was not on the level of fighting parademons or gods, but there would be enough bruises.

Out in the bedroom she pulled on a pair of red-checked flannel pajamas, smiling as she remembered Clark’s recommendation.

& & & & & &


“If you want to stay warm, Diana, flannel p.j.’s are the way to go.”

“Says the man who wears suits off the rack, “ said Batman wryly as he sat down, his cape draping elegantly around him.

Superman and Wonder Woman were enjoying coffee in the JLA Watchtower cafeteria. Batman and Steve had joined them with steaming cups of their own.

“Hey, I grew up in the Midwest. We had cold winters.”

“You never felt the cold.”

“How do you know?” Superman’s tone was irked.

Batman sipped his coffee with Bat-precision. “Cold or not, I still wouldn’t be handing out fashion advice if I were you.” He looked at Steve. “Watch out, he’ll have Diana in fuzzy pink bunny slippers next.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Diana looks good in anything, even a burlap sack and mukluks.” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Heavens, I do not think I would wear such things to bed.” Diana smiled at Steve. “Though I would say the same about you.”

He smiled while Batman rolled his eyes. “Complete sap,” he muttered.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said cheerfully.

“Says the man who moons over Superman,” Diana jabbed.

“Got your sword out, Princess?” Batman asked.

“All the better to parry your rapier wit.”

Superman and Steve exchanged amused looks. Superman said, “I still recommend flannel.”


& & & & & &


Diana sat beside Steve on the couch, curling up her legs in a comfortable position. She glanced at the TV, noting that it was tuned to a women’s hockey game. Excellent. Women athletes were the norm on Paradise Island, and she enjoyed the exploits of female athletes in Man’s World, now knowledgeable about the considerable obstacles they faced.

Steve snuggled up to her in his sleep, lines of exhaustion around his eyes. She kissed the top of his head as she slid her arm around him, loving his warmth against her body.

“It’s an evenly-matched contest between the U.S.A. and Canada in this gold medal game here at the Winter Olympics.”

Diana relaxed. Except for bumps and bruises, none of her JLA colleagues were seriously injured. Those were the best kinds of victories.

She was soon absorbed in the hockey game for about twenty minutes before Steve stirred.

“Mmm, Angel?”

“Yes, Beloved?”

“You okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Lasso-swear?”

“Lasso-swear.”

He relaxed. Eyes still closed, he asked, “You hungry?”

“Not now. I am rather tired, however.”

“Mmm.” He was quiet for a moment. “Who’s ahead?”

“The Canadians.”

“Oh, well. I win either way. Dad’s mom was from Prince Edward Island, so I’ve got some Canadian in me, too.”

“Ah, yes.”

Steve shivered. “Glad you’re all right.”

Diana pulled the colorful afghan from the back of the couch and draped them both. “You need your flannel jammies, dearest.”

He laughed, opening his eyes. He played with the buttons on her pajama top. “Clark gives good recommendations.”

“So you do not prefer me in a filmy negligee?”

“Oh, that’s fine, too, but these suit you just as well. Or nothing at all.” His eyes danced as she slapped his arm and he pulled her close for a kiss.

“The U.S.A. scores!”

Steve grinned and rested his head on Diana’s shoulder. They both watched the thrilling overtime and then the shoot-out, building, building, building…

“And the U.S. wins!”

Steve hugged Diana and they watched the celebration, gradually drifting off to sleep, safe in each other’s arms.







This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)

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