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“There are magnets in my bones for that iron in her blood.” - Atticus
Steve blinked, and a city of the future appeared before his eyes.
He was standing on a large, flat roof, high above everything around him, but not, he thought, as high as some of the buildings in the distance.
He remembered the plane, and pulling the trigger. And he remembered 1984. Everything in between was vague, but not terrible.
Presumably this was after 1984, but he didn’t know enough about architecture of the future to guess just how much time had passed. However, if past experience was anything to go by, the one person he could count on still being around was Diana.
His chest tightened at the thought of her.
He’d never thought he’d be back here, and his wish for her to move on had been genuine. But now that he was actually back, he didn’t know what he’d do if she actually had.
Still, she was the only person he knew in this time, and she’d still help him even if she no longer loved him. So he had to find her.
First, he had to get off this roof.
Peering gingerly over the edges of the building, he located a rickety fire escape and clambered down it as quietly as he could. He landed in an alley next to a dumpster, and took a quick look inside. More modern clothes wouldn’t go amiss – he wasn’t sure what kind of attention he’d draw to himself, dressed as he was in the clothes he’d died in, German officer’s uniform included.
There were no clothes to be seen without digging deep into the trash, but he did find a newspaper – the Daily Planet from Metropolis – and a date.
It was June, and nearly forty years since he’d seen Diana – since she’d seen him. And presumably, he was in Metropolis, assuming the newspaper was local and not imported. He’d never been to Metropolis before, and he couldn’t decide if that would be a good thing or a bad thing for getting his bearings in this new time.
He buttoned up his coat to cover the officer’s jacket – this far out from the war, he wasn’t sure anyone would recognize it, but there was no sense in taking chances – even though it was really too warm to do so. He tucked the newspaper under his arm and took it with him; it might offer some clues to the future that would help him survive here. He stepped out of the alley.
He could smell what must be food – he couldn’t identify anything specifically, but the smells were making his mouth water. He had some American cash on him – or he had when he died – but there was no telling if it would still be legal tender, or if it would be enough to buy anything. He remembered the price of lunch Diana had bought him in 1984 and winced. Either way, he would have to make do.
He picked a direction and started walking.
He checked the alleyways every time he passed a restaurant to see if there was any discarded food. He caught a few pitying stares – evidently people in this time thought he was homeless. Which he was, he realized, but he’d eaten worse things and slept in worse places than the park bench he eventually found.
He stared around at the buildings illuminated by the street lamps as he waited for sleep to come. One in particular caught his eye – a stone facade with tall pillars, that he would have assumed was a courthouse, if not for the words carved above the entry: Metropolis Memorial Library.
He smiled. Surely a library must have a phone book. That would be his first stop in the morning.
Diana was not in the phone book.
This, Steve decided, had to mean one of two things: either Diana had stopped using the name Diana Prince at some point over the last forty years, or she didn’t live in Metropolis.
He wasn’t sure which one was more likely. There had been a longer period of time between 1918 and 1984 than between 1984 and now, so if she was going to abandon the Prince name, surely she would have done it sometime between then? Of course, if it had been him, he would have been changing his name every ten or fifteen years, but Diana wasn’t a spy. Perhaps something had happened that had forced her to change her name?
On the other hand, could she live somewhere other than Metropolis? He wouldn’t blame her; Metropolis seemed like a perfectly fine place, but it was quite an industrial city. If she hadn’t liked London, she certainly wouldn’t care for Metropolis. But the last time he had appeared in the future, he’d been close enough to Diana that he could find her; why would this time be different?
Then again, this resurrection didn’t seem to be the same as the other one. He had his own body, for one thing. Perhaps the different manner of his resurrection (whatever that may be) had caused him to appear in a random place? He couldn’t imagine that his resurrection had nothing to do with Diana; there was no one else left to remember him. But then why would he not have been sent to her?
His mind kept going in circles. As soon as he decided she was more likely to live elsewhere, he started doubting himself. He checked the phone book for Diana under his own last name, as well as Etta’s, Charlie’s, Sameer’s, and Chief’s, but had no luck.
Oh God, could she be married? Was her entry in the phone book actually listed under her husband’s name?
He was coming up with too many options. He had to pick a direction and exhaust that before he moved on to the next one.
So: search Metropolis for a woman whose name he didn’t know, or search the world for Diana Prince?
He approached the circulation desk and gave his most charming smile to the woman who had given him the phone book, hoping that it might take the edge off the oddness of his request. “Excuse me, do you have any phone books for other cities?”
The woman gave him a disbelieving look. “Your best bet would be to Google whatever it is you’re looking for, honey,” she told him.
Steve had read the newspaper all the way through earlier that morning, and had come across several references he hadn’t understood. Some he had been able to figure out based on context. That particular turn of phrase hadn’t been one of them, though, and he couldn’t even begin to parse it. “Right,” he hedged. “And how would I do that?”
The woman turned. “Zach!” she called behind her.
A teenager nearly fell off his chair. “Yeah?”
“This young man needs your help.” She turned back to Steve. “Zach will help you out, dear.”
“Thanks,” Steve replied with another smile.
Zach rounded the counter. “Looking for the lowdown on social media?” he asked.
Steve tried not to stare at Zach as if he had three heads. “The lady behind the desk suggested . . . Google?”
Zach, however, had no problem staring at Steve like he had three heads. “Right,” he said dragging the word out. “Okay. From the ground up it is.”
Googling turned out to be amazing. It was a simple process, once Zach had walked him through the basics of the computer, which was also amazing. Steve didn’t dare type Diana’s name into the machine while Zach was peering over his shoulder – Diana had spent a long time keeping her identity a secret, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Also, the last thing he needed was to be tagged as a stalker, because why else would he be trying to find a woman whose contact information he didn’t already have? Well, there were a few other reasons, but stalker was certainly high on the list – so he entered a few innocuous terms that he had picked up from the newspaper until Zach was called away to teach a class. However, by that time, the library had become busier, and Steve, ever a spy, worried about someone else catching a glimpse of his search. He limited himself to searching for more recent news and looking up the references he didn’t understand.
He went back the next day, which he spent looking up a timeline of major events since 1918, and then the next, and the next, refining his research and branching out to a few other topics of interest, until he knew most of the librarians on sight and a few by name. There seemed to be infinite links to follow as he tried to learn about the future. He always tried to use the most secluded computer he could find, but he still was never comfortable enough to search Diana’s name, until Rita, the librarian he’d spoken with on his first visit, mentioned that they had tablets available for use by patrons.
Steve loved tablets even more than he loved computers. They were small enough to be discreet, and he could sit in one of the chairs against the wall rather than with his back to the open room. This served the dual purpose of satisfying the war-time instinct he couldn’t seem to shake of not leaving his back open to attack, and of being able to block the screen from any prying eyes as he searched Diana’s name.
Not that it mattered, in the end. No mention of Diana Prince came up in Google. He even checked the Smithsonian website, but she wasn’t listed among its curators. He had a brief moment of hope when the search engine suggested he was looking for Princess Diana, but that turned out to be a completely different woman.
He tried searching for Sameer, Charlie, Chief, and Etta as a last resort, hoping Diana might appear in their results. She did, though not in any capacity that gave him a clue as to where she would be now. Diana had told him what had happened to them all back in 1984, so there were no major shocks. There were no results at all for Chief, though, and only an obituary from a digitized back issue of a London newspaper for Etta, who was survived by nieces, nephews, and her “dear friend Diana”; Sameer had achieved some small recognition on the stage, so there were a few more articles about him, in one of which he cited “Diana, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen” as inspiring him to pursue his dreams of acting.
Charlie was the biggest surprise, however – he had dedicated his later years to bringing awareness to shell shock, and he had even published a book that was often referenced in recent studies of what was now known as post-traumatic stress disorder. The library had a copy of Charlie’s book, and Steve read it three times cover-to-cover; Charlie credited his wife and “a bonny lass called Diana” as those who had encouraged him to stop trying to ignore what the war had done to him. The dedication made Steve smile, even though it provided no help for his own current predicament. Steve also got a kick out of the few times he caught a mention of himself – never by name, but he remembered the events well enough to know when he had been the “captain” or “commanding officer” mentioned in the stories Charlie told. Occasionally, a turn of phrase struck him as so quintessentially Charlie that Steve could nearly hear his heavy Scottish brogue and it made his chest ache.
He also used the tablet as a prop when he was eavesdropping on other patrons, so they didn’t notice him watching and listening. Through these means, he learned that modern phones were portable, and actually very similar to the tablet, in both their functions and the way they worked. If he ever found a phone number for Diana, he was confident he could borrow a modern phone and not completely embarrass himself. He also learned other bits and pieces about modern culture that hopefully would help him fit in better, and hearing modern slang used in context helped him understand how to use it himself.
When he wasn’t at the library, Steve explored Metropolis. He quickly traded his German military breeches and boots for straighter, less ostentatious slacks and boots that he found at a donation bin for second-hand clothes. He also prioritized making friends with several restaurant owners, who didn’t mind providing him with leftovers or rejected meals every so often; soon he had a solid enough network that he was able to have a decent meal nearly every day. He then found a homeless shelter, and while he did treat himself to a stay there one night, he mostly visited to shower and build rapport with the staff, since he would likely need to rely on them a lot more if he still hadn’t found Diana by winter.
He always found his way back to the library, though; it became the center of his new life. There was always something more to look up, another avenue he thought of to explore in his search for Diana, another website he found or heard about to check for mention of her, or another modern word he needed to define or another gadget he needed to understand. He browsed the stacks as well, reading history books and treating himself to novels that the librarians called “modern classics.” It was a quiet life, but the days passed quickly, and he continued to hope that one day a door would open that would lead him to Diana.
Nearly three months into his new life, Steve was sitting in his favourite spot at the back of the library with a tablet when he heard Zach call his name. He glanced up to see the kid coming through the stacks, a red-headed woman at his heels.
“This is Ms. Lane, she’s a reporter, she’s doing piece on the library,” Zach told him excitedly.
“Lois Lane,” she introduced herself, and held out a hand for him to shake, which he did.
“Steve Trevor,” he replied, flashing he a charming smile. He hadn’t seen the point of trying to come up with an alias. His name was common enough, and even if someone knew about his previous life, surely their first thought wouldn’t be mystical resurrection.
“Zach was telling me you’re one of his regulars,” she said. “Do you mind telling me how you’ve found the programs that the library has to offer?”
Steve did not want any media attention. The only good thing about it would be if it managed to draw Diana’s notice; otherwise, it was a dangerous proposition. One of his first lessons as a spy had to be ensure that he was the one asking questions, and not having questions asked about him. The more lies he told, the more lies he had to remember, and telling the truth was simply not an option. He’d either end up locked in a psychiatric hospital, or in a laboratory as an experiment. “I’ve no interest in being on the record, Ms. Lane.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then snapped her notebook shut and said pointedly to Zach, “I’m sure Mr. Trevor and I can get along for a few minutes if you need to take care of anything.”
Zach looked at him. Steve didn’t object, but he was on edge. After a moment, Zach left them alone.
“He thinks you’ve escaped a cult,” Lois said.
Steve laughed. “Does he?” he asked, but did not say anything further.
“Did you?” she pressed.
“Does it matter?” Steve shot back.
“Call it an idle curiosity.” She gave him a winning smile. Steve suspected that that smile had convinced more than one man to tell her things he shouldn’t.
“Oh, I make a point of never indulging those,” he replied with a chuckle.
“It’s very unusual to meet someone who does have any computer skills,” she said, as if that explained how pushy she was being.
“I’m pretty sure Zach’s entire job revolves around helping people with no computer skills,” Steve pointed out.
“Anyone under the age of eighty,” she clarified.
“Surely it’s not that unusual?”
“I can think of a few possibilities, but none of them would explain why you’re so reluctant to tell me.”
Steve suspected she was very good at her job, given her refusal to be sidetracked or put off the issue. “Can’t a man value his privacy?”
“We’re off the record.”
“And that counts as privacy?” he asked pointedly.
“There’s no one else here.”
Steve decided it was time to end this. “Ms. Lane?”
She leaned towards him. “Yes?”
“I’m going to have to respectfully ask you to leave this alone.”
She paused, then said, “Right. My apologies, Mr. Trevor.”
He smiled; no need to leave the encounter on a sour note. “I’m not offended, Ms. Lane, I just don’t want to talk about it.”
She smiled ruefully. “I know I sometimes push too hard. My fiance says I’m like a terrier with a rat.”
Steve laughed. “That’s a colourful turn of phrase.”
“He’s a reporter too,” she explained with a shrug, returning his smile.
“Sounds like a match made in paradise.” And there he was, thinking about Diana again. He had literally met her on a paradise island.
“Not heaven?”
Steve’s attention snapped back to her. She had that look in her eye again, as if she had scented blood in the water. Her fiance’s metaphor was apt, Steve decided.
“I suppose that depends on what gods you believe in,” he replied. That was probably too much information, but her eyes immediately filled with confusion, and Steve relaxed.
Footsteps sounded through the stacks. Steve recognized the sound of Rita’s shoes coming towards them.
“Hello, Rita,” he greeted her.
“Hello, dear,” Rita replied. She handed him a sausage roll, and his mouth watered. Rita was one of his favourite librarians, and he thought she had a soft spot for him too, because she was always giving him food, and she was constantly fussing at him about the fact that he slept on the bench in the square across from the library. She’d even brought him home for supper once, and insisted he spend the night on her couch, but she shared her small apartment with her wife and three children; not only did they not have room for him, but he had found it claustrophobic. Nevertheless, he did appreciate her trying to take care of him. “Lauren brought snacks for the meeting today, and we had leftovers. Thought you might like one.”
“Thanks,” he responded, and took a large bite of the roll while Rita spoke with Lois.
“Stay safe, dear. I do worry about you.”
Steve turned his attention back to Rita. “I’ll be fine.”
She frowned, clearly worrying about him again as she did every day at closing time. “Even if you don’t get mugged, you’ll put your back out, sleeping on that bench all the time.”
“I’ve slept in worse places, Rita,” he said, then caught Lois watching them like a hawk. He sighed inwardly. Once again he was giving her too much information, and this time it was clear from her expression that she understood what was meant.
Rita was still mothering him. “So you’ve said, dear, but I’d still be happier if you would at least go to the shelter.”
“Can’t wear my welcome out there before the cold weather hits,” Steve reminded her. The bench may not be a feather bed, but he did rather enjoy sleeping in the summer air.
“I just wish I had room for you at my place.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted, then waved the remains of the roll at her. “I do appreciate this, though.”
She patted his cheek. “You’re welcome, dear. Now, I hate to kick you out, but we do have to close up.”
He stood and handed the tablet to her, then collected his belongings. “Of course. Do what you need to, Rita, I’ll see Ms. Lane out.” He turned and offered a hand to Lois to help her out of her chair. She gave him a funny smile, but accepted, and they followed Rita through the stacks to the front entrance of the library.
By the time they got outside, Steve had finished his roll, and turned to send Lois on her way. She was already looking at him. “Well, Ms. Lane –”
“Would you like to come to my place for dinner?” she said suddenly. “My fiance’s making tomato bisque, and he always makes way too much. You’d be doing us a favour, really.”
His first instinct was to say no, but then he hesitated. He didn’t particularly like the idea of continuing to be grilled by her, but he also wasn’t in much of a position to turn down free, hot food. Perhaps her fiance would act as a buffer against her more aggressive questions, and if not, he could simply leave. So instead he said, “I’d like that. Thank you, Ms. Lane.”
“Lois,” she told him pointedly, then pulled out what Steve recognized as a modern phone and began to tap the screen rapidly.
“Steve,” he returned.
He followed her towards her car; Steve had not yet had the chance to examine a modern car in person yet, though the library had a glossy book on them that he had flipped though, mostly to gawp at the pictures, though he had absorbed some of the information about their components. Another book chronicling the history of automobiles had also been helpful in showing him how they had evolved from what he remembered from 1918 to what he had seen in 1984 to today. He tried not to show too much curiosity as he examined Lois’s car, but she was thankfully keeping her eyes on the road more than on him.
They chatted casually about the library and the weather as they drove, and while it didn’t take long to get to Lois’s apartment building, they clearly crossed some sort of invisible line to a more affluent part of the city. Lois’s building was modern and included a covered garage and an elevator that was faster, quieter, and smoother than Steve remembered elevators being.
As soon as she opened the door, Steve noticed her fiance, a large, dark-haired man. His first instinct was to check him for weapons, and then his gaze darted to possible exits from the space out of habit before he focused back on the other man. He gave a non-threatening grin as Lois greeted her fiance, then introduced them. Steve offered his hand, and Clark took it, giving a friendly smile in return.
“Pleasure,” Steve said in response to the introduction, “Hope I’m not intruding,” he added, given that Lois had issued the invitation to him unilaterally.
“Not at all,” Clark replied. “Hope you like tomato bisque.”
“Don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” Steve replied. “But I’m not fussy, especially if it’s hot. And I can pretty much guarantee you that I’ve eaten worse.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lois look at him. The woman evidently missed nothing. Or he was possibly reading too much into her reactions; there was no way that she could know that he was referencing things that had happened in 1918, after all.
Clark gave a brief laugh. “Well, it will be hot, and it’s my mom’s recipe, so it should be tasty enough, too.”
“My mom had a chicken soup recipe that was to die for,” Steve replied, attempting to establish a rapport.
“You know, my mom was never a fan of chicken soup, so I might have to get that one from you,” Clark replied, clearly pleased at the thought.
“Beer, Steve?” Lois called.
No way was he taking alcohol while in company with Lois’s sharp ears and quick mind. “Just water, actually, please.”
There was a long beep, and Clark turned to pull some aromatic bread out of the oven while Lois directed Steve to sit. “Anything I can do?” he asked belatedly.
“it’s all done,” Clark said, piling the bread on a plate and placing it in the center of the table. Lois then placed a bowl of soup in front of him. The small made Steve’s mouth water, but he forced himself to wait until his hosts had served themselves before starting to eat, his mother’s lessons on manners proving stronger than his hunger.
“So what brought you to Metropolis?” Clark asked Steve as they began to eat.
The best lies were based in truth, and the best spies never boxed themselves into a corner. Steve decided to try to try to redirect the conversation. “Just kind of landed here. Gotta say, though, it doesn’t top my list of favourite places.”
“Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” Lois said.
An image of Diana’s horrified face as they sailed into London filled Steve’s vision.
“What places do make your list?” Clark’s voice seemed to come from far away. Steve pulled himself back to the present with effort.
“I always enjoyed London, though that’s another place that’s not for everyone,” Steve replied; Veld probably topped his list, but it would be too hard to explain why he loved a small village in the middle of Belgium without giving too much away, especially since he had no idea how Veld had changed in the last hundred years. “And I think I would have liked the rest of Europe too, though I was mostly there for work.”
“Which can make it less fun,” Lois agreed with a smile.
“What do you do?” Clark inquired.
“I’m a pilot,” Steve said. “Well, I was a pilot. Though I think it’s one of those things you always are, regardless of whether or not you’re being paid.”
“Commercial?” Clark asked lightly.
Steve considered his options briefly, but he did not feel comfortable trying to bluff his way through any questions about commercial planes, despite the books he’d poured over on the subject. He’d never even been in one, after all. “Military.” He knew that even military planes had changed drastically from the ones he had known, but it still seemed safer.
“Afghanistan?” Clark said curiously.
Steve had read about modern wars, and again considered his options. He decided that not agreeing with Clark’s assessment might be more convincing, and said, “Iraq.” He carefully added an inflection to his voice to make it sound like he had bad memories of the place, and to discourage further questions.
Lois and Clark looked at each other, but otherwise the tactic seemed to work.
“What did you like about London?” Lois asked, turning her attention back to her soup.
Steve smiled, thinking of Diana again, then gave the answer he always gave when asked about London, even back in 1918. “Aside from being the place I spent most of my leave? I like the history of it. You can feel it in the air. There’s so much to see, so many things to explore.”
“That’s what I like about Paris,” Lois said with a smile.
Clark jumped in, too. “And Barcelona.”
“And I had friends there,” Steve finished, smile growing as he remembered introducing Diana to Sameer and Charlie. “Made it feel like home. Now, Paris I’ve been to, though I didn’t get to see as much of it as I wanted. Never made it to Spain, though.”
They continued to discuss places they had visited. Steve tried to keep his answers vague or referencing major landmarks that he could be fairly confident would not have changed when he talked about the places he had been. He’d spent a weekend in Edinbrugh, and he described the Royal Mile with Edinburgh Castle at one end and Holyrood Palace at the other. He sat back while Lois and Clark argued about the various virtues of cities he had never been to, though he did jump in regarding New York City. They finished dinner, Steve making a point to help clear the table, and moved to the living room to continue the conversation.
Steve didn’t even notice how late it was until a wave of exhaustion came over him, and he glanced at the clock. “Shit,” he said. “Someone will have stolen my spot.”
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. It was a sign of how tired he was.
“On the park bench?” Lois said, deceptively mild.
“I’ll have you know that bench is prime real estate,” Steve teased, trying to regain his bearings.
“You may as well crash here for the night,” Clark said. “We have a spare bedroom. It wouldn’t be a problem.”
A real bed would be an incredible treat, but again, it put him in close contact with Lois and Clark for a longer period of time, and increased his chances of slipping up. In the end, though, the pull of comfort was too strong. “As long as you’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition.”
Lois jumped up. “Not at all! I’ll fetch you some sheets.” She moved off down the hallway.
Steve looked back at Clark. “Would it be alright if I took a shower as well?” As nice as the bed would surely be, it would be far nicer if he was clean when he crawled into it.
“Of course,” Clark said. “The bathroom’s right next to the spare room, and the towels are under the sink. Help yourself.”
Steve nodded, and moved to follow Lois. She was exiting a bedroom as he encountered her.
“This is the spare room,” she said, gesturing behind her. “I’ve put the sheets on the bed for you, and there are extra blankets in the closet if you need them.”
“Thanks,” he said with feeling. “Clark said it was alright if I took a shower?”
“Absolutely,” Lois responded. “The bathroom is here.” She opened the next door to show him. “Oh! Hold on.”
She darted into what was evidently her and Clark’s bedroom, then emerged with a t-shirt and sweatpants. “You can borrow these of Clark’s,” she said. “We can wash your clothes tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” he said again, accepting the bundle. “I do appreciate your hospitality, Lois.”
She smiled at him. “Sleep well, Steve. See you in the morning.”
She moved off back down the hall as Steve slipped into the bathroom. The shower was fancier than the ones at the shelter, but still relatively easy to figure out, and the heat of the water was incredibly soothing.
He actually nearly fell asleep right there in the shower as the heat, feel, and steady sound of the water worked their magic on his overtired mind and body. He stayed under the spray until the water started to cool, assuming that neither Lois or Clark would want to use the shower after him at this late hour. Finally, he roused himself and stepped out, dried off, and pulled on the borrowed clothes. Steve knew he had lost weight, but Clark was bigger than he had been on his best day, and the clothes hung off him. Luckily, the sweatpants had an elastic waist, so they didn’t completely fall off him. They would be fine to sleep in, though.
Steve moved out of the bathroom, collected his belongings from the entryway, and entered the spare room, which was lit only by the bedside lamp. He laid down and barely remembered to turn off the lamp before he fell asleep.
It was nearly noon by the time Steve woke up. He spent several moments staring at the clock on the beside table in disbelief. He couldn’t remember ever sleeping so late in his life.
He lazed about in bed for a few more minutes, enjoying the simple pleasure of a comfortable bed, before he forced himself to get up. He changed out of Clark’s clothes back into his own; even though Lois had said he could wash them before he left, he didn’t want to impose further. He made the bed, then folded the borrowed clothes and left them at the foot of the bed.
He left the bedroom and made his way out to the living area. Lois was camped out on the sofa, frowning at a laptop computer. She looked up when he entered.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Hi,” he replied. “Sorry I slept so long.”
“Not a problem,” she told him. “I’m sure you needed it.”
He had needed it, more than he’d realized. “That I did. Don’t think I realized how tired I was until I had a decent bed to sleep in.”
“Glad to help.” A strange look came over he face. “Look, Steve, I was wondering …”
God, he hoped she wasn’t about to start interrogating him again. He looked away from her, and nearly fell over in shock.
Diana was on the television.
She was standing in profile, cuddling a bear cub with singed fur, tendrils of hair floating in the wind, ash filling the air around her, and back-lit by the glow of a large fire. She looked beautifully ethereal. He was pretty sure he fell in love with her all over again.
“Have you contacted Veterans Affairs? Do you have access to your military pension? They can help you with that, or find a doctor if you need one, or help you find a place to live, or a job, or go back to school, whatever you’d like, really.”
He barely heard her, but forced himself to respond. Don’t blow your cover, Trevor. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the television, attempting to keep his voice light and curious, and free of the desperation he was feeling.
Lois glanced at the television. “Superman and Wonder Woman are helping out with the forest fire on the west coast of Canada,” she told him.
“Wonder Woman,” he murmured. He wondered who had given her that name. He thought it suited her.
It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might be working openly. She had made it clear in 1984 that while she still saved people, she preferred doing so from the shadows and actively avoided media coverage. He wondered when that had changed, and why she had changed her mind.
The camera cut away from Diana, and the next image was even more unbelievable.
Superman looked like Clark Kent.
Oh, he carried himself differently, and didn’t wear glasses, and this might be enough to prevent most people from realizing his true identity, but Steve was a trained spy – he knew how to look past such rudimentary disguises. And he was pretty sure Superman was Clark Kent.
Lois must know; he couldn’t imagine an intimate partner, one you live with, not being aware of such a massive lifestyle anomaly.
And presumably, Clark knew Diana. Did Lois also know Diana?
Steve couldn’t believe his luck; how had he managed to fall in with the two people in Metropolis who could lead him to Diana?
He needed time to work out a plan. He needed to research Wonder Woman and Superman, and he needed to do it without Lois looking over his shoulder.
“Steve?” Lois spoke again. “Think about the VA? I have a contact who can help you, if you like.”
“I will,” he said absently. “Look, Lois, I need to go out today. Do you mind if I meet up with you later?”
“You can come back here for the night again,” she offered.
He looked at her in surprise. “Are you sure?” He hadn’t been expecting that. Another incredible stroke of luck.
“Yes,” she said.
He wasn’t going to protest further, not when everything he needed had practically dropped into his lap. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see you later then.”
He left Lois’s apartment and headed immediately for the library. He greeted Rita and Zach as casually as he could, but he felt as jittery as if he’d drunk an entire pot of coffee. Rita offered him a doughnut from the staff stash; he accepted, though he wasn’t particularly hungry. Once she had signed out a tablet to him, he nearly ran to his usual corner at the back of the library.
Now that he knew what to search for, he was nearly overwhelmed with results. There were articles upon articles about Wonder Woman and her feats; officially she had been active for less than ten years; however, there were message boards filled with stories about people who shared family stories about being saved by Wonder Woman going back decades. Using those stories, he managed to trace a vague sense of her movements since 1984. After DC, he suspected she had gone to Italy, then to New York. Recently she seemed to be doing more traveling, but only with what was termed the Justice League. When she handled smaller missions – bank robberies, kidnappings, kittens in trees – she seemed to do so mostly in Europe. Form what he could gather of her movements and response times, Steve thought she might be based in France.
There were some pictures of her, too. Cameras, Steve knew, were a lot more prevalent now, and for once he appreciated it. He hoped, however, that Diana didn’t find it too invasive of her privacy, though all the pictures were of her in her armour, and not as a civilian. She looked wonderful, timeless, as she battled monsters and smiled at children.
Even if Diana was in France, he still had to get there, which he wouldn’t be able to do with the few coins he had picked up off the ground as he’d walked around Metropolis, or without any identification. His best bet was to try to get her to come to him. And that was the crux of the plan that was forming in his mind.
He tore his focus away from Diana, and began his search for Superman.
Superman clearly had superpowers; in the brief time Steve had seen him on the television, he’d been flying and using some sort of strong breath. Steve needed to determine for certain that Clark was Superman, and he needed to know what else Superman could do before he put his plan into motion. If Clark had an equivalent of the Lasso of Hestia, that knowledge could determine the success or failure of whatever plan Steve came up with.
It turned out to be more complicated than that. Superman, it seemed, had super senses. In particular, he had incredibly acute hearing. Steve knew he had a good poker face, but there were some biological responses, such as a change in heart rate, that occurred when lying that he couldn’t always control. Had Clark noticed any of his lies during dinner the night before? Luckily, he’d stayed pretty close to the truth; the most direct lie had been the one about Iraq, but he hadn’t thought that Clark suspected anything. If he was Superman, he also had a good poker face.
Superman also had super speed and super strength, as well as heat vision and invulnerability. Out-fighting or out-maneuvering him would not be an option.
And he had x-ray vision. Steve didn’t have too many possessions, but he did still have most of the German military uniform, including the pins and medals. He hadn’t wanted to risk disposing of them, but now he’d have to weigh that risk against the risk of Clark searching his bags, if he hadn’t already. Certainly the discovery of those would raise questions that would be difficult to answer.
Steve decided that he would have to be very careful around Clark.
And what about Lois? Was she was a superhero too? Steve ran a search for other members of the Justice League, but the consensus was that, aside from Diana, they were all male. He tried a broader search for other superheros and found a few new results, but most were local to areas outside the United States, and none seemed to match Lois’s general profile. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was a risk he would have to take.
The first step, though, would be to determine for certain if Clark was, in fact, Superman.
He jumped up from his chair and returned the tablet to the front desk, then ran back to Lois and Clark’s apartment, hoping he wasn’t too late.
Lois was typing furiously when he got back to the apartment, talking on the phone at the same time. “I know, Perry, but I promise the reporter from the Sun didn’t hear half of what I did, we will have far more detail in the evening edition than they have online right now – well then maybe you should hire more social media hacks, Perry, I am a journalist, I’m not going to tweet every piece of gossip that comes along without checking my sources – I’m sorry, did I not hear you dress Grant down last week for not checking her sources, and now you’re on my back because I am? Make up your mind, Perry! I’ll have the article in on time for the evening edition, like I promised, and all your micromanaging will have been for nothing! You heard what I said!” She jabbed her finger on the screen of the phone, presumably ending the call. She looked up at him. “Hi, Steve.”
“Hi,” he replied. “Is Clark here?”
She shook her head. “He’s still at work.”
Steve glanced at the television; it appeared to be a different channel, but it was still covering the wildfire. He caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Superman flying in the distance, and breathed a sigh of relief. He averted his gaze; it wouldn’t do to be caught staring at Diana again, no matter how much he wanted a glimpse of her.
His eye caught on a bookshelf, and he gestured at it. “Do you mind?” he asked Lois, waving at it.
“Help yourself,” she said, distracted. “Sorry, Steve, I need to finish this article for the evening edition.”
Steve shrugged. “I can entertain myself.” In fact, he would much prefer to do so right now.
She smiled briefly then returned her attention to her article.
There wasn’t anything particularly telling on the bookshelf; Steve selected a mystery novel and settled in.
He found it hard to concentrate, and harder still not to fidget, but he still managed to make it nearly a hundred pages into the novel before Clark arrived.
He was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, glasses in place, and he had a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He looked so normal that Steve might have dismissed his initial instinct about Clark being Superman. Diana had always looked impressive regardless of whether or not she was in her armour. However, he was determined to find Diana, and to do so, he needed to find out for certain if Clark was Superman.
Lois glanced up, greeted him with a fond look, then turned back to her article. Clark returned her smile, then nodded a greeting at Steve.
Steve got up and followed him into the kitchen, where he was depositing his bag on the table. “Lois working on a story?” Clark asked.
“Yeah,” Steve said. “It’s for the evening edition.”
“Deadline’s in half an hour,” Clark said. “She shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Steve nodded. “Look, I thought I might cook dinner tonight, since the two of you have been so kind to me. It’s the least I can do.”
Clark gave him a smile. “You don’t have to earn your keep, Steve, but if you really want to, I won’t say no.”
“Good,” Steve said. “I hope you have chicken and vegetables. Can’t say I’m good for much else, unless you want breakfast for dinner.”
Clark laughed. “I think we have chicken in the freezer, but we eat out so much that I tend to buy vegetables only as we need them. There’s a shop around the corner, so it’s not a big deal.” He pulled a couple of bills out of his pocket. “Here, take this, get what you need.”
Steve hesitated; it seemed wrong to use Clark’s money to treat him and Lois to a meal, but this was a means to an end, and he didn’t exactly have funds of his own, so he took the money. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
Clark waved him off. “The store’s about a block east.”
“Can you show me on a map?” Steve asked, hoping his heart rate wasn’t picking up too much. “I’m better with directions when I have a visual.”
“Sure,” Clark said, and pulled out his phone. He opened a map application and pulled up their current location, then held it out to show Steve. “If you go out the side door here, turn left, and it’s right in your path.”
Steve moved closer to examine the map, and then breathed in deeply through his nose.
Clark smelled like smoke.
It was fainter than Steve would have thought, but it was certainly there, and it smelled like wood smoke, with few chemical fumes; just what Steve would have expected from a forest fire. And if he had flown from Canada under his own power, some of the smell might have dissipated, which would account for its faintness.
Steve was certain now. Clark Kent was Superman.
He thanked Clark again, then left to go to the store. He enjoyed the short walk, and used it to mull over his discovery and how it would affect his plan to contact Diana.
The best thing, he thought, would be to carry out the whole scheme while Clark was out of the apartment. Steve wasn’t sure of his hearing range – it seemed to be large, given that Superman routinely showed up around the world – but surely he would be less likely to be paying attention to Steve while they weren’t in the same place.
He hoped the moment would come soon. Diana was so close, he could feel her in his bones.
Dinner conversation was light, which Steve appreciated, because he found it difficult to focus, so consumed was he with thoughts of Diana. He lay awake for a good portion of the night in anxious anticipation, finally falling asleep from sheer exhaustion around two in the morning. It was probably lucky, then, that the moment he was looking for came the following day.
“Where’s Clark?” he asked Lois as he took a sip of coffee, as he hadn’t seen the other man so far that morning.
Lois shrugged. “He goes for a run most mornings.” She didn’t met his eyes.
Steve doubted that Clark had actually gone for a run – he suspected it was more likely Superman-related – but he nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he began.
Lois made a questioning noise, encouraging him to continue.
“About the VA,” he clarified, “and maybe seeing a doctor. It might be a good idea.” He had no intention of calling the VA, of course, but she might be less suspicious if it seemed he was taking her advice about something.
Lois looked up at him, eyes bright. “I can talk to my contact,” she said.
That wouldn’t do at all. Steve held up a hand to ward her off. “I’d rather do this myself,” he said quickly, then decided to try to soften his words. “I appreciate the offer, Lois, I do, but …” He shrugged.
“Okay,” she agreed, a look of compassion on her face, and Steve steeled himself against the twinge of his conscience at deceiving her. “Is there anything I can do for you, then?
God, was it really going to be that easy? “Well, I actually don’t have a phone,” Steve said, feeling her out.
“You can use mine,” she immediately offered, and gave him a brief lesson on how to do so before handing it to him.
“Thanks,” he said, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Do you mind if I …” He gestured towards the kitchen, where she wouldn’t be able to see him from the living room couch, where she was sitting. There was no way he would be doing anything in front of her regardless, but it seemed polite to ask.
“Not at all,” she said.
He retreated immediately to the kitchen, unable to drag the moment out even further. He picked a spot near the table where he could see both the kitchen entrances – one from the living room, one from the hallway – then turned to the phone. He’d seen a contacts app on the tablets at the library, and it was helpfully labeled, so he set about looking for something similar on Lois’s phone. It wasn’t difficult to find.
“Yes, hello, I’d like to make an appointment,” he said quietly into the kitchen as he opened the app, hoping to ward off any eavesdroppers, within the apartment or otherwise.
“Steve Trevor, 8141921,” he said as he scrolled down the list. Lois had a lot of contacts; Steve thought it was likely due to her career as a journalist. It was a risk to use his actual serial number, but he was too focused on his actual mission to care at this point.
“Yeah, I’d like to make an appointment with the doctor, please,” he said as he slowed down enough during the D’s to determine if Diana’s name was there. It wasn’t; he sped up again until he reached the P’s.
“That will be fine, thank you,” he said, and then he saw it – Diana’s name.
He froze, hardly able to believe it. “Thank you, Jesus,” he said out of relief and habit – since meeting Diana, he believed far more in the Greek gods than in any other deity. He opened her contact page, and set about memorizing her number. “Great, I’ll remember that,” he said as he did so.
Once he was confident that he had committed Diana’s phone number to memory, he said, “I’ll be there, thank you,” and pressed the button at the base of the phone. The contacts app disappeared and was replaced with the home page of the phone, showing a picture of Lois, laughing, while Clark kissed her cheek.
Satisfied, Steve left the kitchen to return the phone to Lois. “Thanks,” he said as he did so. “They suggested I swing by. I’ll see you later?” This would be the easiest place for Diana to meet him, he presumed; if she was friends with Lois and Clark, she probably knew where they lived. Still, he didn’t want to make assumptions about his welcome, considering he’d already been here two nights.
“Plan on it,” Lois said with a grin. “I’ll let you know when you’ve over-stayed your welcome.”
He returned the smile and waved as he headed for the door.
Steve had been collecting coins he found on the street since he’d arrived in this time. He had some American money that he had had on him when he had died, but he figured more couldn’t hurt. His first plan was to use it now to use a payphone to call Diana.
First of all, finding a payphone was somewhat difficult. He supposed they weren’t as necessary now that everyone carried a phone around with them. When he finally did locate one, he recoiled in horror when the operator’s automated voice told him how much it would cost to call Diana. He still would have paid it, once the shock wore off, but it was far more than he had managed to collect so far.
He abandoned the payphone, chewing on his lip, then headed toward the library. He didn’t want to ask, especially if long-distance calls cost so much, but he didn’t know what else to do.
“Hey, Rita,” he greeted the librarian. “I hate to ask, but I need to make a long-distance call. Do you have a phone I can use?”
“Is it still within America?” Rita asked.
“Europe, actually,” Steve said, hoping he was right about that.
Regret entered Rita’s eyes. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t have an international package on my phone, and my boss wouldn’t thank me for letting you use the library phone for such a call, either.”
Steve nodded. He didn’t blame her, given the price that the payphone had quoted him.
“I have international calling,” Lauren, the youngest librarian on staff, said suddenly as Steve was about to ask Rita if she had any suggestions of what he could try next. She blushed when he looked at her. “Sorry to eavesdrop, I didn’t mean to. But I have international calling – my parents live in Manchester. You can use my phone, if you like.” She held it out to Steve.
He smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Lauren,” he said as he took the phone from her. “This mean a lot. Do you mind if I take it to my usual spot?”
She shook her head. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”
“Of course,” he replied, and headed to the back of the library.
His hands shook as he entered Diana’s number into the phone, and he couldn’t bring himself to sit. It began to ring; he began to pace.
“Bonjour,” came Diana’s voice on the other end of the phone, and Steve froze. She sounded distracted. Steve’s breath caught in his chest and his entire body hurt for want of her. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself and tried to make his throat work.
“Hello?” Diana said again, her voice lilting on the English syllables.
“Diana,” Steve finally said, his voice hoarse. He should have thought this through; how was he ever going to convince her that it was really him? He said the first thing that came to mind. “Do you still have that invisible plane?”
Silence stretched over the phone line.
That wasn’t a good thing to say, Steve berated himself as soon as it was out of his mouth. She could have told anybody about the invisible plane, it had been nearly forty years. He hadn’t even told her it was him!
He was about to say something else, anything else – like his name, that would be a good start – when Diana’s voice came again, broken but achingly hopeful. “Steve?”
“Yeah,” he said, tears of relief pricking his eyes. “Yeah, shit, Diana, sorry, that was such a stupid thing to say.”
“No,” she said with a half-laugh, half-sob. “Not at all. How – what – where are you?”
“Metropolis,” he said. “I actually had a chance run-in with your friends, Lois and Clark.”
“That’s how you found me?” she breathed.
“That’s how I found your number,” he hedged. “I saw you on television with Superman. He needs a better disguise, by the way.”
She laughed again. Steve relished the sound. “Mine is not much better, yet they seem to work.”
“Yours is the best,” Steve breathed. They both knew he wasn’t talking about how well her armour functioned as a disguise.
“You are biased,” Diana told him fondly. “I’m leaving now, okay? I’ll be there in about an hour.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you in Europe?” His eyes widened. “How much faster have planes gotten?”
“I’ll explain when I get there,” she said. “Steve – I don’t want to hang up, but I will have to.”
He heard the fear in her voice and understood. “I’ll be here, Diana. I’ll be here when you get here. I’ll meet you at Clark and Lois’s place, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “I love you.”
“Jesus, Diana, don’t tell me that when I can’t kiss you,” Steve complained.
“Soon,” she promised.
“I love you, too.”
“Soon,” she said again, longing in her voice.
“Right,” he said.
They were silent for a moment. “You hang up first,” Diana told him. “I don’t think I can let you go again, even temporarily.”
“Jesus, Diana,” Steve groaned again. “I’m sorry for that. I wish I could have stayed with you.”
“An hour,” she promised, voice quavering. “But I can’t leave until we hang up.”
“Right, okay,” Steve said. “Okay. I’m going to hang up now, and I will see you in an hour.”
He wrenched the phone from his ear and pressed the red end button before she could say anything else, and before he could second-guess himself.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a smile creep across his face, then headed back out of the stacks to return the phone to Lauren. He thanked her profusely again, said goodbye to her and Rita, and left the library.
It took about forty minutes to walk back to Lois and Clark’s apartment, and Steve forced himself to walk. The speed of his arrival at the apartment wouldn’t hasten Diana’s arrival, and would only give Lois, if she was still there, time to question him about what was going on, since he knew his anticipation would be impossible to hide.
Lois was at the apartment, though Clark still wasn’t there. Steve tried to relax, picking up the book he had been reading the day before, but he became more anxious with every moment that passed, and finally gave up when he read the same paragraph for the fifth time without having absorbed anything from it. He was restless, and stood to look out the window. There was no view from the living room windows except the back side of the next building. It helped slightly to be on his feet, but without being able to see the approach to the building, he found himself straining to focus on every little noise, hoping that each sound was Diana’s approach.
After fifteen minutes, Lois had clearly had enough. “What’s going on?” she asked, staring him down.
He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that the sound of her voice startled him. He turned to face her, but at that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
Steve made for the door, but Lois beat him there. “Diana, what’s up?” he heard her say.
“Lois,” Diana replied, her voice strained.
“Diana!” Steve called to her, unable to stand back any longer.
“Steve!” Diana called back, and as Lois turned to look at him, she bolted past her and threw herself into his arms.
Diana’s body against his felt like coming home, and when he felt her hand in his hair, he sagged against her, all the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying draining out of him. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her. She had changed her perfume since 1984, but underneath it was the familiar scent of her skin, and Steve had to blink back tears.
“You’re really here,” Diana whispered, pressing her cheek to his.
“Yeah,” he gasped. “Yeah, I am.”
“I worried I was dreaming,” she murmured. “How are you here?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, just as quietly, “but I’m so glad I am. I’m so glad I’m here with you, Diana.”
She pulled back slightly and studied his face. “You look just the same,” she said, reaching to touch his cheek.
He smirked but leaned into her touch. “I think that’s my line.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her; she was beautiful, radiant, and he took the opportunity to try to memorize her face, her smile. His last memory of her was her sobbing as she kissed him, knowing she had to let him go; he wanted to overwrite it, wanted to only remember her as happy, wanted only to ever make her happy.
A throat cleared pointedly. “So it’s been an interesting morning,” Clark said mildly. Steve hadn’t noticed him arrive.
Steve looked at Clark and Lois over Diana’s shoulder; Diana turned in his arms to look at them, but curled her hands into his shirt, refusing to move away from him. “Thank you,” she told her friends. “Thank you for keeping him safe for me.”
Both Lois and Clark looked slightly stunned at that. “We didn’t do much,” Lois said.
“It was kind of an accident,” Clark added.
Lois’s gaze cut to Steve and her eyes narrowed. “Although it seems you’ve been a busy little beaver. You didn’t call the VA this morning,” she accused. “You looked up her phone number. You aren’t very good at covering your tracks.”
Steve’s first instinct was to reply that he was very good at covering his tracks, thank you very much, but then he realized that Lois would know her own phone far better than he did. “Goddamn modern technology,” he muttered under his breath.
Diana laughed at him. “Such a spy,” she said fondly, stroking his cheek. She was beaming, and Steve forgot all about his disgruntlement.
“There may still be a few things I’m not entirely clear on,” Lois added.
“Hades promised Diana a gift about five months ago,” Clark said. “This is it, isn’t it?”
Steve looked at Diana with interest. He hadn’t thought too much about how he had gotten here, too focused on finding Diana.
“This is not the sort of gift Hades gives,” Diana said with a frown. Steve loved those two lines that appeared between her brows when she did so, and fought the urge to kiss them away. “He does not return those trusted to his care.” She looked at Steve.
“I have no idea,” he told her with a shrug. “I just woke up on a roof.”
“Was it the building at Sixty-ninth and Fourth?” Clark asked.
Steve shrugged again and shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea. I didn’t think to check the location.”
Clark looked thoughtful. “Well, that was the place we saw Hades in April. And Diana, you said that if he sent you a gift, it would show up there.”
Diana nodded, thinking. “It does make sense, but I still don’t understand why Hades would grant a gift like this. He takes his responsibility to the dead very seriously. He believes deeply that they deserve their rest, that the natural order should not be perverted through necromancy or resurrection.” She looked at Steve, her hands tightening in his shirt once more, and he saw the panic in her eyes. “You can stay, yes?”
Steve’s heart broke at the thought that she might have to give him up again, and for an instant he regretted giving into the instinct to find her before he had figured out the cause of his appearance in this time. God, if he had to leave her again –
“Of course he can,” said a man’s voice Steve didn’t recognize.
The owner of the voice appeared in the entry between the kitchen and living room. He had a smug look on his face, and his eyes were fixed on Diana.
“Just sign on the line, my dear,” the man added, waving a scroll at Diana.
“Uncle?” Diana asked cautiously. Her grip on Steve’s shirt tightened further, and she twisted so that she was angled in front of him. While they certainly had bigger problems at the moment, given that this was evidently a god – Hades, if the speculation from earlier had been correct – Steve worried about what the state of his clothing would be when she finally released him.
“I do apologize, my dear niece,” Hades said as if he and Diana were the only ones in the room. “It took a while to get him to you, given that his atoms were scattered over a good portion of Belgium –” Steve felt Diana flinch “– and had long ago been absorbed into the landscape. I had to get your aunt’s help to restore his physical form, and it took some time.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Uncle,” Diana replied respectfully.
Hades gave her a disbelieving look. “I told you I would grant you a gift for returning the ring to me, my dear,” he said as if explaining a complicated concept to a small child. He waved his hand at Steve. “Here it is.” He shook the scroll at her. “You need to sign this in order to take possession of it.”
Diana slowly disentangled her hands from Steve’s shirt. She took the scroll as she moved perceptibly more in front of him. Steve thought she was trying to put herself between them in case Hades changed his mind and decided to take Steve back to ... the Underworld? He probably should have brushed up on his Greek mythology during all those hours he spent at the library.
Diana unrolled the scroll and studied it. Steve looked at it over her shoulder, but whatever it said, it was in a language he couldn’t read. He looked back up at Hades, who was waiting patiently as Diana read the scroll.
“I need to speak to Steve privately about this, Uncle,” Diana said suddenly, allowing the scroll to roll up again.
Hades blinked at her, looking confused, but waved at her as if granting her the time she needed. Diana didn’t need to be told twice. She grasped Steve’s wrist and hauled him down the hallway. She clearly knew her way around Lois and Clark’s apartment, as she pulled him into the guest room without hesitation.
“What is it?” Steve asked as soon as she had shut the door behind them.
Diana looked at him anxiously and brandished the scroll. “Steve, this will grant me your soul.”
Steve wasn’t sure what he had expected, and he could tell by Diana’s tone that this wasn’t great, but he had no idea what that meant, that his soul would be granted to her. “This is one of those things you’re going to have to explain to me in small words,” he told her. He reached out and grasped her arms, smoothing his palms from her shoulder to elbow.
She leaned into him, dropping her forehead against his cheek. He nosed into her hair, breathing deeply, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “All souls belong to Hades,” Diana explained. “When we die, our souls go to Hades’s hall.”
“With you so far,” Steve murmured.
“You died, and you went to the Underworld,” Diana continued. “Your soul is in Hades’s care. His gift to me, for returning an artifact to him, is to grant me your soul. So your soul would belong to me as it currently belongs to him.”
“What does that mean for us?” Steve asked, still not entirely clear why she thought this was such a big deal.
Diana pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. “It means you would live until I die, unless you die unnaturally. Then the deal is void and you would return to the Underworld.”
“Unnaturally?” Steve questioned.
She shrugged. “For example, if you blew yourself up again.” She was clearly trying to joke, but it fell flat. “I think you would have some enhanced healing, like mine, since you would belong to me, so you would be harder to kill, but not impossible. But you will age at the same rate I do.”
Steve raised a brow at her. “You age?”
She gave a small smile. “Slowly, compared to humans, but yes, I do. And if nothing kills me before then, I will someday die of old age. If we take Hades’s offer, you would die at the same time I do, because your soul would be mine.”
Steve nodded. “Okay. So what’s the catch?”
She blinked at him “What?”
“Diana,” Steve said patiently, “nothing you’ve said about this sounds bad. In fact, it sounds pretty great.” He pulled back suddenly, a terrible thought coming to him. “You don’t want this, do you?”
Diana’s eyes filled with tears. “I want nothing more,” she said fiercely. “But Steve, I cannot ask this of you! You will outlive everyone around you, and I could not bear it if you came to resent me for doing this to you.”
“Diana,” Steve said again with an incredulous laugh, “I’ve already outlived everyone around me! don’t know anyone besides you, and I love you. If I can be with you forever, then I want to be.”
“What if you change your mind?” Diana whispered, but Steve could hear the hope in her voice.
“What if you change yours?” he challenged. “You’re the one who’s spent the last hundred years meeting other people. Are you sure I’m the one you want?”
Diana raised her hand to his face, stroking his cheek as she gazed at him tenderly. “A hundred years is nothing when you have lived as long as I have,” she told him. “You are everything I want.”
Steve couldn’t help himself; he rather thought that it had been very good of him to wait this long. He dived for her mouth, pressing a hard, deep kiss to her lips. She met him eagerly, and when they finally parted, a wide smile broke across her face. Steve adored the way such a bright smile transformed her face, and felt one growing on his own face.
“I can’t wait to find out,” he told her.
“Are you certain?” she said.
“Sign the damn scroll, Diana,” Steve said firmly.
She kissed him again, then turned to the bedside table and pulled a pen out of the small drawer. Steve hadn’t even known it was there. She spread out the scroll and signed it with a flourish, then rolled it up again. She took his hand and led him toward the door, then stopped and turned to him again.
“I love you, too,” she told him seriously.
Steve had to kiss her again, and he did so until they were both giddily laughing into each other’s mouths.
“We shouldn’t leave Lois and Clark alone with Hades for much longer,” Diana said finally, her nails scratching lightly at the back of Steve’s neck in a way that made him shiver.
“If you say so,” Steve mumbled, stealing one last kiss before following her back out to the living room.
“Thank you for your gift, Uncle,” Diana said, handing the scroll to Hades while keeping a strong grip on Steve’s hand. “I gratefully accept.”
Hades checked the scroll. “Thank you, my dear niece,” he replied, re-rolling it. He turned and walked back into the kitchen, and silence fell.
Finally, Lois asked, “Who wants wine?”
“Please,” Diana said.
“Yes,” Clark agreed fervently.
“And for me,” Steve agreed.
Lois and Clark moved to the kitchen, and Diana turned to Steve. They stood for a moment just breathing each other in, then, hearing Lois and Clark pulling out glasses and bottles, moved to the couch to wait for their hosts.
They curled around each other; Diana slung her legs over Steve’s lap, and her arm around his neck; Steve hooked his own arm around her shoulders.
“This feels like the first day of the rest of our lives,” Steve said quietly, drawing mindless patterns on Diana’s thigh with his free hand.
“That’s because it is,” Diana replied with an intimate smile, her own free hand drifting over his chest, before moving up to touch his face.
“I know, but you know what I mean when I say that?”
“I do,” Diana said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “We don’t have anything else to do but be together. There’s no war, no magical stones. Just you and me.”
“Yes,” Steve said with an exhale. “Exactly.”
Lois appeared in from of them and handed them each a glass of wine, then sat across from them next to Clark.
“I can’t believe it’s not even one o’clock yet,” Clark said, breaking the silence that had settled around them. “I feel like enough happened this morning to cover at least two days.”
“It’s only lunchtime?” Lois asked incredulously. “I’m about ready for bed.”
“We need to book flights back to Paris,” Diana said, looking at Steve.
Steve frowned; he’d assumed she’s brought her invisible plane, which he was looking forward to getting his hands on again. “What? Didn’t you bring your plane?” Though, he supposed, it had taken them ten hours to get to Cairo from DC; the distance from Europe to Metropolis wouldn’t be much less, and his research at the library hadn't indicated any subsequent modifications that would lessen that time to an hour.
Diana shook her head with a small smile. “No, I flew under my own power. It was faster. But it would not be comfortable for you to fly that distance with me.”
“You can fly now?” Steve asked. That sounded fantastic – he’d learned to fly in an open cockpit, so it wasn’t so much the idea of the wind in his hair that excited him, but the feeling of weightlessness he thought one would feel if they could fly without a plane; it would truly be a defiance of gravity.
Diana’s smile grew. “I learned after the last time you were here. I figured it out when I understood what you said to me about flying.” She brushed her fingertips over his lips; he kissed them gently.
“You have a plane?” Lois asked, looking interested.
“Last time?” Clark said at the same time, just as fascinated.
Diana and Steve exchanged a glance. Steve gave Diana’s thigh a slight squeeze.
“We met in 1918,” Diana began.