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Like any good reporter, Lois kept a finger or two on the pulse of international politics even when covering other assignments -- it was particularly useful on the superhero beat, which, at the League level, tended to overlap quite a bit -- but that didn't mean she particularly liked them, and after three hours of rubbing elbows with lying diplomats and sleazy senators who couldn't stop campaigning to save their lives, she'd had enough. There was no story at this party, and there was a tasty husband and a tastier biscotti waiting for her at home.
Still, it wouldn't do to leave without paying her compliments to the host, so, with a final sip of her bone-dry martini, she picked her way to the front of the room where Diana was, loss of official royal title notwithstanding, holding court.
Lois preferred Diana in the more conventional jeans and t-shirt she often wore around friends, but she had to admit that the amazon cut an impressive figure in her flowing blue and white diplomat's drapery. (Lois had learned, at some point, about the whole peplos-chiton-himation thing, but Themysciran style wasn't truly ancient Greek, and words like "dress" or "robe" seemed equally accurate and, of course, equally wrong, so drapery it became.) It was an interesting contrast with the amazon beside her, all sharp angles and form-fitting fabric and bronzed bangles over equally bronze skin, hair tied back severely in thousands of cascading crimson braids.
"Lois!" Diana was, of course, genuinely delighted to see her, clasping her hands eagerly. "I'm so glad you could come. Do you know Artemis?"
"Only by reputation," said Lois, turning to the other amazon. "Well met, Archon," she said, crossing her wrists loosely at navel level, palms up, in what she was at least mostly sure was the proper Bana version of a handshake.
One red eyebrow curved up, and Artemis returned the gesture. "And you, Ms. Lane. I read your article on Themyscira, it was quite... insightful."
That honestly hadn't sounded much like a compliment, but Diana would probably be stepping in to chide Artemis for being undiplomatic if it had been sarcasm, so Lois chose to take it at face value and offered a mild smile. "Thank you."
Artemis waved a hand dismissively. "I should be thanking you for the opportunity to make an honest statement to a halfway virtuous person for the first time in three hours. There are very few people at this... party who wouldn't benefit by an arrow to the skull."
Lois laughed, but Diana said "Artemis," a hand rising to Artemis' elbow and a stern look finishing her sentence for her.
Lois, no fool, would certainly never suggest out loud that an amazon (especially a Bana) would do anything so childish as to pout, sulk, or flounce. But that didn't stop her smirking faintly at the sight of six feet of feline grace and deadly muscle turning away from Diana with an upturned chin and affronted snort.
"These people are insipid, Diana," argued Artemis, more than a little sullenly, "and we've been here for more than long enough to 'make our presence known.' I'm sure there's a dangerous monster somewhere imperiling lives at this very moment, the slaughter of which would be a far more productive use of your time. Or at the very least some children in need of your florid inspirational speeches."
"You are a Themysciran Archon," said Diana with faint amusement. "If you wish to be elsewhere, no one here can compel you to stay."
Lois suspected that statement wasn't quite up to Diana's usually scrupulously honest standards, but Artemis seemed willing to run with it, giving Diana a broad smirk. "You're right, Diana. I should find Phillipus and say my farewells." She turned to Lois. "Ms. Lane, a pleasure. I hope we can speak more another time."
With a nod of acknowledgement in response to Lois' own, Artemis turned and stalked off through the crowd, leaving Lois and Diana to their own devices. Lois turned back to Diana --
-- and clacked her jaw shut before it could drop in shock. Diana was watching the other amazon leave with a fond smile, an expression Lois had seen many times before, the full weight of Diana's considerable love and affection directed easily and openly at just about anyone she cared to call "friend." Which wasn't what shocked Lois.
What shocked Lois was the look in her eyes, a look Lois hadn't entirely realized Diana was even capable of; a pure, smug hunger for an intended lover, with every confidence of eventual satisfaction. Lois had heard rumors, of course, but it was Diana. There were always rumors. To see it as actual fact, to be presented point-blank with the reality of Diana with a partner (other than Clark, supplied a small, petty corner of her brain with no small satisfaction), was something wholly else, and it took her a moment to collect herself past the point of the artless, instinctive "what the hell" that was her first reaction.
Despite all that, she was fairly pleased with her eventual dry inquiry of "You and the Archon?", complete with mildly disbelieving eyebrow tilt.
Diana's smile, when she turned it on Lois, was simple, happy, and brilliant.
It only made Lois' eyebrows climb higher. "She's cranky, sarcastic, kind of bloodthirsty, insults you -- in English, even, so your friends can appreciate the put-down too -- and didn't she steal your job once? And make an utter wreck of it? And yet you're grinning like a fourteen-year-old with a crush. What am I missing here?"
"Stamina, a clever tongue, and eminently lickable shoulders?" suggested Diana, eyes twinkling.
Five minutes ago, it would have worked, but Lois had gotten past that to even start the conversation, so she just parried smoothly, "If she can go for twenty-four hours straight she's still going to give up about a year before you do, so I can't see stamina really being that much of a concern."
Diana's delighted laugh drew startled stares from the crowd around them, and the amazon gestured toward the patio doors. "Come, it's a lovely night, let's explore the gardens."
A moment of companionable silence settled between them as they made their way to the relative privacy of the outside world, the noise and bustle of the hotel fading behind them into the quieter background murmur of Metropolis by night.
It was Diana who eventually resumed the conversation, though she seemed to have traded teasing mirth for reflective quiet somewhere between the door and the garden path.
"I suppose we must make an odd pair at first glance. Artemis is, as you say, 'cranky, sarcastic, and insulting,' with a tendency to challenge me constantly over the most trivial nonsense," she said fondly. "But that, Lois, is the point."
"You want your personal life to be a constant battle," Lois tried skeptically. It didn't strike her as a very Diana-like sentiment.
"There's a difference between... English doesn't really have the right words for it, but the distinction between an 'argument' and a 'fight' might be a close substitute. But that's not exactly what I meant, either."
She looked up at the moon thoughtfully.
"I was born the only child of the queen of paradise. From the moment of my birth, I was as much a symbol to my people as I ever was their friend and sister. Treasured for what I was long before anyone even knew who I was. I haven't been their princess for a very long time now, but I don't think they'll ever really stop seeing me as the heir to their queen.
"Patriarch's World has been surprisingly similar. Myndi did once warn me it would be, though I didn't have the context to understand her at the time. Celebrity takes different forms in different cultures, but it never changes at the root."
"You're not just Wonder Woman because you had the best ad campaign, Diana," objected Lois mildly. "Everyone's heard of Aquaman, too, but you don't see little girls carrying Arthur dolls around or putting As on their lunchboxes."
"Perhaps," allowed Diana. "The pertinent fact remains that I am Wonder Woman. But Artemis, as you mentioned earlier, once lay claim to that title as well."
Diana rolled her shoulders, like an owl flexing its wings under the stars.
"She is an amazon to her core. She understands both the weight and the joy of duty, the elemental haze of combat, the bond between sisters and what it can do. It is an understanding I've found... difficult to come by since leaving Themyscira. And like my Themysciran sisters, when she looks at me, she sees something..." She paused briefly, clearly searching for an accurate translation. "... Worthier, perhaps, than simply a fellow amazon. But unlike my sisters, it took her years to do so." She smiled up at the night sky, a little wryly. "Amazing, the comfort in a difference so small."
"She loves you," said Lois.
"Yes."
"But unlike everyone else in your life, she made you earn it."
Diana's smile turned luminous. "Yes."
"I get that," nodded Lois.
"Of course you do," said Diana, her grin somehow both knowing and gentle. "You made me earn your friendship too."