Yours

She was there. Like, really, really there. Wonder Woman was in Jack Jordan's apartment.

Holy crap.

It was like some kind of weird dream. Jack went to his door. Jack opened his door. In walked Wonder Woman!

This kind of thing didn't happen. Not in Jack Jordan's life. Not in Jack Jordan's apartment.

"Can I, um, get I get you something to drink?"

"I'm not sure," Wonder Woman told him, her stance unchanging, legs shoulder-width apart, arms behind her back, "Should you? Or maybe I should get you a drink."

Jack stood still, puzzling at his imposing guest's words. What was she talking about? Get him a drink? Was this some sort of power play? Everyone knew how powerful Wonder Woman was, and standing so close to her, Jack could feel it. A woman who could pick up a tank and toss it as if it were a frisbee was standing a few feet in front of him. His stomach was turning somersaults with nervousness.

"I don't think I understand," Jack said, "Are you thirsty?"

"I am not," the Amazon princess stated, "But I did not come here to speak of my thirst. I came to speak of this."

From behind her back, she brought the arm that held the message Jack had written. Was she upset about his method of communication? Yes, it was inelegant, but he had been panicking! There had been no time to find a way to tell her without marring her perfect arm!

"I'm sorry," Jack said, feeling preemptively defensive, but also more than a little frightened that she might take out her disappointment on him, "I just didn't have the time to find another way to tell you..."

"No," she stepped forward, pointing at the writing, specifically at his name, "This. I didn't know. I should be the one apologizing. All these years that I was living a life as if it was my own. I am so sorry."

"I don't understand."

Wonder Woman stepped up to Jack, close enough that he could smell her skin, still pointing at her forearm.

"Your name," she said quietly, "I'm yours."

"Mine?" Jack was lost.

"Yours," she repeated, "Your property. You own me. You always have. I just didn't know it until I saw your name."

Jack's eyes went wide. What was going on? Was she under a hex, or did she suffer brain damage when Black Adam hit her? His fear began to creep from his stomach into his throat. A brain damaged superhero in his apartment was extremely dangerous. If she became upset with him, what would she do?

"Mine," he said, completely terrified, "You belong to me, like a ****?"

"Like property," she said with finality, "If you want to call me a ****, that's within your right. Funny," she said flippantly, "I have found that word distasteful my entire life, but when you say it, it becomes acceptable, at least when you are referring to me."

Shit. She was really far gone. Jack wondered if he should call the Justice League. Then he realized that he had no idea how to call the Justice League! It's not like they were in his contact list! This had to be some sort of psychosis. Maybe it was a disorder that happened to Amazons. Jack didn't know much about her people. What he'd heard sounded unlikely to be true. An island populated by only women? Immortal warriors who serve the ancient gods? It all sounded like something out of a comic book, not something out of real life. No, she was probably like Superman, an alien or something, and maybe she'd picked up a pathogen that was screwing with her mind.

"Okay," Jack had read that it was important to play along with psychosis in order to not create extra stress in the person suffering. Maybe that would prevent things from becoming violent, "So you're my property. Okay. So, uh, you're going to, like, move in with me or something?"

"Is that what you'd like me to do?" She sounded eager, "If so, I'd gladly move in. If you'd like, you could move in with me, too. I have a number of homes that you might enjoy."

"Listen, Wonder Woman," Jack started, "That feels so weird. Is that what you want me to call you?"

"My mother calls me Diana, but since I'm yours, you can pick any name you'd like for me," she responded matter-of-factly.

"Wonder Woman, Diana," he said, then, taking a deep breath, "I've never had a person as my property before. You're going to have to bear with me. I think that it would be best if you help me contact some of the people that you know, maybe the Justice League, just to let them know that you're with me, that you're alright."

"Of course," she said, then, "sir."

A smile crept onto her face as she said it.

"Was that alright?" she asked, "sir? Is that how you'd like me to address you? It felt... good."

"I want you to still be you," Jack answered, "If you want to call me sir, then go for it. For now, just help me contact your friends. I'll need to have a talk with them."

"Yes sir," she said, "I have a communicator in my ear. I will contact the Watchtower immediately."

Jack felt his shoulders begin to relax. Not all the way, mind you, but enough to tell him that he thought there was a solution coming. Maybe they'd send one of the big guns, Superman, The Flash. They'd know exactly what to do with her, and then Jack could go back to his regular life. He'd lost his place on hold, and still needed to figure out his employment situation.