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“You’re playing dirty.”
Diana looked up from her laptop, fingers hovering above the keyboard, confused to see Lara leaning heavily against the doorframe of her office. She was fairly certain that she’d left her girlfriend all tucked up in bed not two hours ago.
On the far side of the manor.
Lara's hair was in a messy bun with strands sticking out, and she had wrapped herself in a thick quilt from their bed. Dark bags hung below her rich brown eyes and where her skin wasn’t flushed pink with fever, it was pale and gleaming with sweat.
Still, despite the obvious illness, Diana couldn’t resist the pull of her very favorite archaeologist. She stood up from her desk with a sigh.
“Beloved,” she said, exasperated. She loved Lara, adored her, but she was the worst patient Diana had ever come across. Diana's mother would be pleased to hear that Diana was getting what she deserved, as she saw her daughter as equally mischievous, stubborn, and energetic.
She made a note to write to her mother soon and stepped around the heavy mahogany desk in what had become her office. Both were leftovers from an older generation of Croft, gathering dust until Diana came along.
Lara raised her chin, as though ready to argue and protest.
Diana didn’t give her much time to think of an opening salvo. She easily scooped Lara up into her arms, keeping the quilt wrapped securely around her lithe, shivering body. “I’m fairly certain we agreed you would take your medication and stay in bed?”
Lara sniffled and nuzzled against Diana’s neck. “Did we?”
Warmth burst in Diana’s chest at the sweet gesture. She tightened her grip, just a little, and reveled in the feel of Lara safe against her. Lara didn’t like to show vulnerability, and there she was, seeking comfort from Diana.
Diana leaned her head down against Lara’s for a moment. She closed her eyes and breathed her in, putting this moment to memory. It would be nice to reminisce about the next time Lara protested Diana taking care of her.
“We agreed to nothing,” Lara said, voice muffled. “And any agreement is null and void because you cheated.”
Feigning ignorance, Diana simply hummed and secured the quilt more securely around Lara’s shivering frame.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She widened her eyes and smiled when Lara lifted her head to glare at her. “You asked for the television to be on before I left and I simply followed your instructions.”
Lara narrowed her eyes in response. Had she not been ill, she would have looked quite intimidating. As it was, she simply looked adorable.
“I asked you to put on the news,” she said, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “The logical, based in fact news, Diana. Not the absolute trash you left on.”
Diana hummed. “I thought you loved watching historical documentaries? I even picked one of your favorites.”
“Oh yes, sure, quite right. One of my favorites,” Lara said, her sarcasm losing its bite as she cuddled in closer. “I just love watching those buffoons dribble on and on about how aliens created El Dorado because they needed gold to create an artificial sun, or how the pyramids were made with sound waves!”
Diana laughed at the pure vitriol in Lara’s voice as she carried her out of the office. She made it a few steps down the hall before Winston rounded the corner with a pinched expression on his face. When he saw Lara tucked nice and safe, however, he sighed - seeming to deflate slightly - and smoothed a hand through his thinning gray hair.
“Miss Prince,” he said, bowing his head. “Thank you for finding her. I’m afraid Lady Croft decided to take advantage of me by asking for tea and when I returned, she was gone.”
Diana raised an eyebrow and looked down at Lara, who had hidden her face in her quilt. “No apologies are needed, Mr. Callahan. I know exactly how slippery this one can be. I will take her back to our room and make sure she stays.”
Winston nodded, a bemused smile on his face.
Lara popped her head up and glared. “You both act as if I’m some escaped beast from the zoo.”
“Stop climbing out of windows to avoid us and we’ll stop treating you as a flight risk.” Winston ignored Lara’s eye roll and refocused on Diana. “The tea went cold while I was searching for her, but I’ll brew you both a fresh pot.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
They parted ways with short nods at each other.
Diana rested her cheek against Lara’s hair as she made her way to their bedroom. She had long ago memorized the layout of the manor’s halls, mostly out of necessity thanks to many a late-night return. It had admittedly taken her longer than she would like to get used to the large mansion. Its dark wood and winding hallways were so different from her home in Themyscira. Even her Parisian flat had brightly colored walls and was filled with natural light.
But she could confidently say now that the manor was her home, so long as Lara remained as well.
“Were the documentaries I chose really so bad that you had to deceive poor Winston to come and complain to me?” She laughed again when Lara tightened her arms around her with a gravelly groan.
“Maybe I missed you… but also they’re horrible and you know it,” she said and huffed. Diana bit back a grin and adjusted her grip. “I swear, Diana, it’s like they simply can’t believe that humans are capable of anything. Pyramids? Aliens. The Nazca Lines? You guessed it, aliens! Albert freaking Einstein? Well, humans can’t possibly be that intelligent. He must be an alien! And don’t even get me started on their garbage theories on hunter-gatherer humans.”
Climbing up the staircase leading to their bedroom, Diana shifted Lara to one arm to re-secure the quilt around her.
“I would very much like to get you started on it,” she said, a cat-like smile on her face. “You know how much I adore hearing you speak about your passions.”
Lara merely frowned in response.
“Right,” she said. She raised her hand and poked Diana in her cheek. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Keeping me all cooped up in bed with that utter dreck on. I’m not even that sick! I’ve been worse off before and managed just fine. You’ll remember that I’ve had rebar sticking clean through my side. Yet you’re causing a fuss over a sniffy nose and mild fever?”
Twisting the knob of their bedroom door, Diana pushed against the door with her hip. She wrinkled her nose at the faint scent of sickness lingering in the air and quickly settled Lara back down on the bed. After making sure Lara was comfortable, she turned the ceiling fan on to get the air circulating for both their sakes.
“You realize that hearing such things does not help your case, so to speak,” she said, slipping off her heels to slide into bed. Lara's adorable pout made her grin as she settled beside her, fully aware that it was because she was still dressed in business casual. Lara didn't appreciate Diana's habit of wearing business casual at home and would soon start complaining about her not wearing pajamas in bed. “It is perfectly normal and acceptable to rest when ill, beloved.”
Their television was paused and on the screen, a young man in an ill-fitted suit and wild hair seemed to be frozen in the middle of a rant. He looked ridiculous and Diana couldn’t help but chuckle at him. Lara scoffed and rolled over to plaster herself to Diana’s side, her movements lethargic and weak. Her quick jaunt to the office had drained her of whatever energy she’d stored up.
“Says the woman who never gets sick,” she said, gripping at Diana’s blouse with a shaky sigh. “I have so much work to do, love. The world doesn’t stop just because I’ve caught a bug.”
Diana hummed and pressed a kiss to Lara’s forehead, both because she wanted to and to check her temperature. With the thermometer in their en suite, she had no way to be one hundred percent certain, but she wanted Lara resting. And moving now would only make for a grumpy girlfriend. Even with just her lips, she could tell the fever was nowhere near ready to break. Diana tsked under her breath and pressed more kisses to Lara’s forehead, her chest squeezing tight at her inability to help. Winston had assured her it was just a fever, nothing serious, and that the real problem was keeping the Lady Croft in bed. But his assurances did nothing to dispel the unease in her heart at seeing her beloved so miserable.
“You are right, the world does not stop for anything,” she said, wrapping her arms around Lara’s waist and holding her close. “But you are allowed to take a break. The world will fare far better with a Croft who is whole and healthy than one who can barely leave her bedroom.”
With little effort, Diana moved the both of them so that she was leaning up against their headboard with Lara’s head still resting against her chest.
“Now, I could also use a short break,” she said, reaching over to the nightstand for their television’s remote. “So how about we continue watching the documentary on… the Nebraska Man?”
With a burst of newfound energy, Lara sucked in a breath through her teeth and burrowed her face against Diana’s chest.
“Harold Cook is the bane of geology the world over,” she said with a vicious, glassy-eyed glare at the television. “It was a single tooth. A single tooth isn’t enough evidence for a grade-schooler, let alone for creating an entirely new species!”
As Lara continued to argue with the idiots on the television, Diana made herself comfortable against the many fluffy pillows. Judging by how the raging adventurer in her arms was already waning in energy, her eyes fluttering in an effort to stay awake, she’d be asleep within the next half hour and Diana could return to her work. Thankfully, the British Museum had been more than happy to accommodate her sudden need for remote work.
Until then, however, she’d simply enjoy the weight of her beloved in her arms.