Summary: Diana contemplates the love she shares with Steve.
Date Of Completion: June 8, 2007
Date Of Posting: June 9, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 960
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: This little fic is a late birthday present for jen_in_japan . Sorry for the tardiness, but I didn’t get the idea until after your birthday! Oh, and starsandsea ? Yours is on the way as well. Just need a little more time to finish it! :)
Diana awoke slowly, the bright sun flowing in through the white gauze of the tent. The filmy material was pulled back to reveal the sparkling ocean, blue and brilliant and eternal.
Like our love.
She teased a finger down her sleeping companion’s face. She never tired of looking at Steve’s beautiful face.
Truly she had been blessed by the Gods.
He fell from the sky one day and my life forever changed.
She lightly stroked his nose, his cheeks, his feathery lashes. She gently ran her fingers through thick blond hair, reveling in its glory.
Her hand lightly slipped down his throat, the pulse of life pleasing her as she settled her hand on the broad chest.
Perfection. Beautiful in face and body.
The sunlight kissed his body, burnishing the unmarred skin to gold.
No, not unmarred.
She frowned slightly as she traced a short scar on his right bicep.
She knew of the medals kept in the velvet box in the old-fashioned cedar chest in his family home, and she also knew of other scars won in their shared adventures.
She glanced at his right thigh and the jagged scar there.
There were other scars, not as numerous as those of Bruce and Dick, but enough to speak of a warrior’s heart.
Her own scars were light, but he loved her completely no matter what. It had been so for her as well the moment she had laid eyes upon him.
The sound of the water lapping on the white sand was soothing. She rested her head on Steve’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat as she curled her limbs around his, contentment relaxing her body.
The rich bouquet of wine filled the air from the open carafe on the table. The Amazonian art of wine-making meant that it could be a thousand years old or the grapes could have been crushed last week. Whichever the case, the wine was full with a sweetness that melted on the tongue.
Lush, fresh fruit filled the golden bowls, warm and juicy. Diana’s tongue rimmed her lips as she remembered the sweet/tart taste of pomegranates, lemons, oranges, grapes and mangoes. They glowed yellow, orange, purple and red in the sunlight, cupped by gold.
This little bit of Paradise was their own. With Aphrodite’s stern injunction against men setting foot on Paradise Island, Diana had set up this little encampment on one of the outlying islands.
A bird’s cry echoed across the trees, the avians probably the color of night, or perhaps flame. A warm breeze caressed her nude body, Steve moving slightly in his sleep.
His scent filled her nostrils: a touch of sandalwood, the faint musk of sex, a hint of his favorite cologne.
She had never felt so happy. Pleasure was no stranger to her, coming in its female form on the Island, but she didn’t feel an oddness with her male lover. He was her soulmate, and his gender mattered not to her, despite her mother’s disapproval.
Fragile, courageous Human.
She tightened her hold slightly. She would never lose her taste for female pleasures, but she knew the other half of her soul resided here in her arms.
Steve Trevor had proven himself worthy in love and war. He didn’t seem to mind her superior strength. In fact, only once had he exhibited unease, and that had been one night when she had forgotten her strength. She had been careful ever since.
Just as she was careful not to embarrass him in public. She had become aware of the teasing Steve had been taking, his masculinity challenged, but Steve simply smiled and considered himself lucky to have her.
Still, she understood the machismo of military men, but Steve’s near-complete lack of it endeared him all that much more to her. So, while promoting equality, she allowed him to slip his arm around her shoulders in a proprietary fashion as long as she was allowed to do the same. She didn’t mind him holding open a door for her or pulling out a chair as long as she was able to do the same for him. He seemed more than happy with this quid pro quo.
Uncertain of his masculinity?
Diana rubbed her long hair against Steve’s chest. Despite his flashes of brashness and recklessness, Steve was levelheaded and a valuable ally in battle. He was mostly quiet, too, which had surprised her at first. She had expected a decorated pilot to be brash all the time. She had learned otherwise, and his quiet acceptance of her and her people’s rules had chastened her. She knew that it hurt him that he couldn’t see her home and he was treated like a disease, but he had learned Amazon history and understood the injunction.
He helped her understand his own world, rueful as he realized some of its absurdities through her eyes, saddened at its injustices.
Was he perfect?
Hardly, but neither was she. The arguments they’d had were petty, mostly due to exhaustion and irritation and the little things that couples fought over. More often than not, he greeted her with a dazzling smile, happy to see her, and she felt the same.
Another breeze blew gently into the tent, stirring her hair and she lifted her head. It also ruffled Steve’s hair, which was as bright as the sun. She could rarely resist the urge to run her fingers through it, and as she did his eyes opened.
They were as deep and blue as sapphires in King Solomon’s mines set in a face that could rival Apollo’s. Love and amusement sparkled in those eyes, and she felt her own love swell, her lips meeting his, sweeter than Amazon wine.