Wonder Woman Waits

Diana stood in the hallway staring at the closed door. How long would he make her wait? As long as he wanted, really. It was his prerogative. He was, after all, in charge.

It was a strange feeling, being so helpless. Diana had the power to push the door open if she wanted. She had the power to raze the building with her bare hands. But she wouldn't, not unless Jack told her to do so. She had spent her entire life straddling the line between obedience and conviction, following the direction of her gods and goddesses, listening to her mother, or choosing to do what she knew was right in her heart of hearts. But now that she'd seen Jack's name on her arm, she realized how wrong she had been. The gods had no sway on her life, nor did her family. She belonged to Jack Jordan, always had, always will.

A moment of shame washed over her, staring at the closed door, remembering the false free will she had mistakenly flaunted until that day. Her romance with Steve Trevor, her flirtations with Batman, her career, her adventures. Would Jack have wanted her to pursue those things? As his property, she had the responsibility to be safe and responsible. In her old life she would have been upset had someone damaged her property. It would probably be the same with Jack. Should someone do something to her, damage her in some way, he would be justified in feeling quite angry.

No for the first time, Diana wondered if she should have changed into civilian clothes before coming to the apartment building. Not many people had seen her, so fast had she moved, but the young woman across the hall from Jack had poked her head out and stared in surprise to see a superhero knocking on a door. Of course, once Diana had pointed toward the name on her arm, the woman smiled and nodded knowingly, returning to her apartment.

The building that Jack lived in was older, smelling of mildew and cigarettes. While not located inside Suicide Slum, it was close enough that having Diana in the building would significantly increase its safety. Which, of course, felt good to the Amazon. Should anything happen to her owner, she was unsure what would happen. Who would take possession of her when she was gone? Did he have her listed as an asset in his will? That was one thing she would have to work out with him, should he ever open the door.

Perhaps she could convince him to move into her own condo. Well, convince wasn’t the right word. Offer. It wasn’t her place to manipulate. She could offer what she had to her owner and see if he would take it. If he wasn’t comfortable with her there, Diana could, of course, stay at his current apartment. In her previous life, she had purchased condos in Metropolis, Central City, and Gotham. All of them, while having her name on the deeds, technically belonged to Jack now. If he gave her permission, she would spend some time contacting the law firms she used and begin the process of putting her former assets in his name.

But for that to happen, he would have to open the door. Already she had pushed things. His instructions had been for her to call, which she had done. Diana hoped her owner wasn’t upset by the initiative she had shown in taking it a step further. Diana had always been a go-getter, not waiting for someone to tell her what the next thing to do would be. It would be difficult for her if her owner decided that he wanted her to forego that trait, to become much more docile, but she would do it if he asked. It wasn’t as if she has a choice in the matter.

The Amazon lifted her hand to knock again, then decided against it. Jack knew she was there. He would answer the door when he was good and ready. She had faced gods and monsters, defeated mad tyrants and alien despots. Why, then, was finding the patience for a door to open one of the most difficult tasks she had ever endured? If the door ever opened, she could ask her owner. Perhaps he, as the one who held her life in his hands, had some special insight.