There had been whispers and stares when she had entered the cemetery. After all, Wonder Woman was a myth in Washington, and she hadn't been seen in thirty years. The grounds were quiet, despite the presence of several tour groups there to see the Tomb of the Unknowns, and in the distance, she could see a marine funeral taking place. Soldiers in dark blue serge stood out against the pale blue sky, and she imagined she could hear the echo of their gun salute.

It was a government issued white marble headstone like the thousands that formed neat and tidy rows in every direction, as far as the eye could see, adorned with a simple plain cross. Beneath it were carved the words

Steven Leonard Trevor
Major Gen
Army Air Corps
World War II
Jan 15 1915
Jun 19 1976

Diana knelt at the grave and took a small bunch of yellow daisies she had brought with her and laid them at the foot of the headstone. Daisies, he had told her once, long ago as they lay in a darkened bedroom and as the rain fell outside her window, could say many things. "Happy Birthday" or "Get Well Soon", for example. Or "I'm sorry".

The cherry trees had lost their blossoms. That much she remembered from back then. Every April, she had been hit with a wave of homesickness when the trees across the city exploded in pink and white blossoms that fell like snow to the earth. "When I close my eyes," she told the memory in a whisper, "I can almost pretend he's you. Almost."

"When Stevie told me you'd come back, somehow, I knew I'd find you here," came a woman's voice from directly behind her, and Diana wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. She turned to see a woman in her early fifties, short hair that was more gray than blonde feathering around an apple-cheeked face with plenty of laugh lines around her bright eyes, and when she smiled, all the years dropped away.

"Private Candy?" Diana asked, amazed, and she was rewarded by the other woman's laughter and they embraced.

"I haven't heard that in almost thirty years!" she confessed. "It's just Etta Niles, now. Has been since 1946. Charlie and I were out of the service by Korea. Not Steve, though. He was career Army. He took over the G-2 after Phil Blankenship retired. He's buried in section 25, if you want to go say hello."

"I think I will," she said with a smile.

"My God, you look just the same," Etta said, shaking her head. "And just as good in a bathing suit!"

Diana couldn't help but laugh. Since she had come back to Washington, she had been frustrated and amazed by how much things had changed. Not just how rents had gone up, and old haunts had been replaced by shiny new stores and glass and steel office buildings. At least one thing in this city that was and yet wasn't the Washington of her memories was still just the same.

"I can't believe it. I wish he could have been here to see you," Etta said with a nod of her head towards the grave, and they grew somber again.

"I've been... out of the country," Diana said quietly, "I didn't know that he had died. I wish I could have been here."

"It was sudden," she said. "No real warning. One second Steve was fine, and the next... The doctors said it was a stroke. His wife Carol had passed away a few years ago—cancer. He and Stevie took it pretty hard. But they were as close as ever, even after Stevie joined the IADC instead of the army like his old man," Etta grinned. "Boy, was Steve sore at the kid for that. Heck, I don't think Steve ever forgave Truman for dissolving the OSS actually. He was fit to be tied when Stevie joined the Agency. But my godson is just like his father—stubborn to the core."

The wind blew through the trees, and in the distance, they could hear taps being played on a bugle.

"He always said he wanted to be buried where there were cherry trees," Etta said to fill the sudden silence, smiling at the memory. "He always said they reminded him of his first love. She disappeared after the war, no one ever heard from her again. She didn't even leave a forwarding address," Etta said, hands deep in her pockets as she stared out at the vast cemetery.

She turned to Diana, who was frozen in place like one of the carved monuments, her face as still as a marble angel's. "I still have a picture of the three of us, from right before the war ended. We are all so young. You wouldn't believe how young we were."

You could have been Wonder Woman, a navy nurse, or the Lemo Tomato Juice Girl, I don't think it matters. I think I've always loved you, and I always will.

Diana stared down at the dasies, fresh tears springing to her eyes. In the silence that stretched between them—an immortal Amazon, and a sweet and wonderful friend who had only grown wiser with time, and more beautiful with age—a million thoughts passed through her mind. A million hopes, a million regrets, and a million questions and their answers.

"Was he happy, Etta?" She asked at last, and the woman smiled at her warmly, reaching out to take her hand.

"Yeah. He was," she said, and gave her hand a squeeze. "He met a great girl, and he fell in love—and sure, maybe it wasn't the same as the one the got away. But they were crazy about each other, and they had a kid who turned out to be a really great kid. And yeah, he was happy."

Diana smiled, then. And arm in arm, the two old friends walked out of the cemetary.

Author's Note: Please, if there's anything that doesn't work for you, or is factually or grammatically incorrect, don't hesitate to tell me! Constructive criticism is the greatest gift you can give an author. I'm not a delicate flower who will curl up and die at the first sign of criticism. I want to make this story the very best I can, so please let me know what works for you, and more importantly, what doesn't.