A Dom in Metropolis

It's never easy to lose someone. No matter their position in relation to you, if you care about someone, it hurts when they die. Not many people knew the truth of your relationship with Rebecca, and the people who did know had the courtesy not to bring it up at her Funeral.

There's something special about being in a Master/ relationship with a willing participant. A level of trust goes with having someone submit to you completely. And the beauty of having someone dedicated to your every whim, someone who's only wish was to make you happy, was something not many people ever got to know. In many ways, that relationship is even more significant than marriage.

When she died a month ago, killed in a mugging gone wrong, it tore your heart out.

The Funeral was small. Rebecca's parents had died 2 years before, and she had no siblings. A few Aunts and Uncles came, plus your own parents, but few friends showed. Rebecca had never had very many. She was always shy. That was part of why you'd put the "Extroversion Clause" in your contract to begin with, to get her to make new friends.

And now, here you sit in your admittedly lavish apartment, looking over it again and again, reminiscing over lost love. Her old collar was sitting next to you, a perfect ring of stainless steel, about a quarter inch thick and 1.5 inches tall. It wasn't the one she wore in public, that would've drawn a lot of extra attention, but when you were home, that was hers. It was the one she chose to symbolize your bond. Strong, rigid, and enduring through all things.

A knock at your door shook you out of your stupor, and you got up to answer it. When you open it, you see a very imposing woman, easily 6'2" with full black hair, glimmering blue eyes and a very lovely figure standing there waiting for you.

"Oh, John. I'm so sorry, I just heard about Rebecca," she said, grabbing you in a hug, "I wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

"I'm fine Diana. Thanks for coming by, I know that the League keeps you busy."

"I'm just sorry I wasn't here sooner. If J'onn hadn't needed me off-world-"

"Diana, stop. I know your work is important, and I don't blame you for her . Now, are you going to come in, our not?"

"Oh you know I can never resist you, John."

You smile as Diana walks into your home.

"Are you on duty?" you ask.

"No, I'm on personal leave."

"Ah, so I can bring out the good stuff then."

She smiles.

"Indeed."

You walk to the Liquor cabinet and get your bottle of Tullamore D.E.W., pouring two three-finger glasses of whiskey for the two of you, with just the right amount of ice for Diana's drink.

"Here you are, my dear," you say, handing her the drink.

"You remember my preference I see," she says.

"But of course."

You'd always found it funny, a Greek Goddess who absolutely adored Irish Whiskey. She took a sip, then set her glass on the table.

"So how are you, John? The people from our club are worried about you."

"I'm fine."

She raises an eyebrow at you, setting her glass down in a manner deliberately drawing your attention to her bag.

"John, are you sure?" she asked again, a touch more forceful, "Becuase if that is the case then I'm even more worried."

You smile at her.

"It's ok Diana, I get it. Seriously, I'll be ok. Eventually."

"Good," she said, taking another long sip from her glass, "May I ask how the case went? I haven't had time to read the police report."

You shiver just a bit at the mention.

"If you aren't ready, I can find out on my own. Maybe track this pathetic piece of trash down and ensure justice is done."

"I appreciate it. I'll... I'll call you."

"See that you do. Now," she said as she stood up, "I have a bit of business to take care of."

"Oh?"

Diana finished off her drink and grabbed her bag.

"Indeed. As you know, my Pets have been without their Mistress for over a month, so I really ought to go see them. After that, I need to have a word with the hero we left in charge of Metropolis while we were away. She needs a _severe _punishing."

That got your attention.

"Wait, who did you leave in charge?"

"Supergirl," she said, "Why do you ask?"

You wave your hand.

"Just curious."

As she made her way towards the door, Diana turned to you once more.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll take care of her."

She pulled you into a hug and planted a quick kiss on your cheek before she left. You just stood there, looking at the closed door.

The mugging was in a very public place, not two blocks from Krypton Park. If Superman had been on Earth, he would have been there in a heartbeat. Diana had told the Club they would be off-world, but none of them had even thought about if she was leaving someone in charge. But she had.

And Supergirl had failed.

It was Supergirl's fault that Rebecca was dead.