Epilogue
Diana stomps the snow off her boots on the doormat. The home is warmly lit, a sweet aroma drifting from the kitchen. She shakes her curls out of its ponytail, hangs her bag up, pulls off her coat, dusting off snowflakes, calls out: “I’m home!” She steps out of her boots. Her papers didn’t get wet, though they are still damp.
“Hello. How was your day?” Barbara materializes out of nowhere. She’s wearing a long red sweater, legs bare, blond hair loose, and face slightly pink from the warmth. She looks warm enough to hug, soft enough to kiss, so Diana does both.
“It was fine. I missed you.” She says into Barbara’s hair. “What are you making?”
“Cookies.” She feels Barbara lean her head against her and laugh, a twinkling sound that Diana wants to bottle and play on repeat. “And I missed you, too. Now, come on, we have to start cooking! I want this new year to be amazing.”
Diana laughs quietly. “It will be. Although I’m not sure anything will quite top you moving in this year.” They have come a long way since the Agency, and though Barbara still sleeps lightly and bounces up ready to fight whenever she’s woken up, time has softened both of them. It had taken a lot of pleading and lavishing gifts for Barbara to agree to move in, though, and Diana’s pleased with herself that she pulled it off.
They are interrupted by a beeping in the kitchen, and Barbara quickly extracts herself from Diana. “Aw, shoot, the chicken!”
Diana watches as Barbara sped off to the kitchen, the muscles in her calves flexing. She follows soon after, pausing for a moment at the kitchen doorway just to take in the view. She’s so warm inside she thinks her organs must have melted to goo sometime between her coming home and taking off her coat.
Barbara is struggling with the chicken, her hair hastily put up in a knot, her nose wrinkling with exertion as she lays the chicken on a board.
“Let me help you with that.” Diana says, crossing the kitchen and taking the carving knife from Barbara. With a pout, Barbara relinquishes her hold on the knife, and Diana cuts the chicken carefully, her attention wholly on the meat.
She’s surprised when she feels arm wrapped around her waist. “Hm?” Diana hums, her hands not stopping though a smile spreads wide on her face.
“I’m hungry.” Barbara whines, and Diana tries to stop smiling like an idiot at how adorable she sounds. She fails miserably, and resigns herself to her fate.
“The chicken will be ready in a moment, Barbara Ann.”
“But I’m hungry now…” Diana’s ears prick up. She knows that tone, knows the feeling of hands rubbing against her neck. She can already feel herself getting hotter.
“Oh?” Diana says, sure that the tips of her ears are reddening. Her hands, though, don’t stop. If Barbara is going to interrupt her, Diana won’t be held responsible for a dinner half-made. “How can I help with that?”
Barbara says nothing, just sidesteps Diana and plucks the knife out of her hand, laying it gingerly down on the board. She turns towards Diana, and Diana nearly moans at the look in her bright blue eyes, ravenous and hazy. “I want an appetizer,” Barbara whispers into her ear.
Diana swallows hard. “I can help with that.” Her fingers tremble still, even after all this time, when they finally touch the soft skin on Barbara’s face, and she tilts Barbara’s face up. Carefully, she covers soft lips with her own, and when Barbara moans into their kiss, Diana’s knees nearly go weak. But instead of falling and letting Barbara doing what she wants to to her, Diana picks her up bride-style, and carries her down the hallway to their bedroom, never letting her lips stray far from Barbara’s.
“Happy New Year, my love.” She’s so comfortable, Barbara pressed closer to her chest, that she nearly misses Barbara’s whisper. Both of them are slightly out of breath, and the lights of New York shine through the window as the city celebrates the new year. In no universe, though, would Diana let that whisper go unanswered.
“Happy 2022, Barbara Ann. And to many more.” Diana replies, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt into the dark, and pulls Barbara just slightly closer to her.