Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Bruce? Clark? A word?” Wonder Woman said, as the Justice League filed out of the conference room, having formulated a plan to coordinate on Intergang.

“Someone's in trouble,” Green Arrow snickered on his way out, which earned a sharp glare from Batman. This wasn't surprising, because anything and everything earned a sharp glare from Batman. However Wonder Woman also gave him a furious glare, which was unusual, and spooked the archer into scampering from the room.

“Sure Diana,” Clark said, returning to his seat, having held the door open for everyone.

“What is it?” Batman said standing tall, cape draping downward. “League Business is League Business, not just for the three of us.”

Leave it to him to be suspicious about everything.

“This is ah,” She said, searching for the right word. “A personal matter.”

Clark's features instantly turned into the very picture of polite concern.

“I have been living in Washington for some time now as you know,” She said, drumming her fingers on the back of her chair. “It has been most informative, and I have made several friends.”

Steve of course, Etta, the entire League of course.

“But?” Clark asked gently.

“It can at times be…difficult,” She explained. “To function given the public facing role I play.”

“Harassment?” Batman growled.

“Not precisely,” Diana said with a small smile. At first there had been a few issues that had arisen from her unfamiliarity with man’s world and the…choices some men made. But she had been perfectly capable of handling them herself. “More so a certain inability to engage in domestic matters with the ease to which I would prefer.”

Clark’s eyebrows went up, Bruce's eyes narrowed. Both in confusion, she guessed. She sighed. She was being diplomatic again. There were circumstances when that was useful, she was an ambassador. But it could sometimes lead to her saying many things, and communicating nothing whatsoever.

“I cannot exactly buy groceries dressed like this,” Diana said with a wave of her hand, showing off her outfit. “And even my casual wear from back home attracts attention…”

Apparently, her clothing was several centuries out of date now, which was rather unfortunate to hear.

“I will admit a certain trepidation regarding purchasing new clothing,” She said. “Back home we simply went to the weaver or the smith and got it free of charge but here there are stores and price tags and such.”

Ever so slightly, Bruce shifted. Most people would never notice. But Diana did, and she bet Clark did as well.

“It's not an issue of money,” Diana explained before they went down that road. “My mother sends me gold and silver every month to pay for my expenses.”

She wondered is that made her a “nepo baby,” to use a term she had seen used in man’s world.

“It is somewhat difficult to use as a practical matter,” She admitted. “It is difficult to get exchanged. I cannot just buy groceries for it. Most of your gold sellers are…less than reputable in my experience. I've had to ask some acquaintances for help most of the time, otherwise it piles up in my closet.”

She'd taken to leaving it at shelters and orphanages, because really, having a pile of precious metals in your closet was more than a little embarrassing when you considered the privations in man's world.

“I'm sure the State Department has staff for this sort of thing,” Clark said thoughtfully. “On the other hand, not for this exact thing.”

Diana nodded.

“There are some issues,” She said. “Most of the diplomatic support services assume a familiarity with the Internet. As well as the existing systems.”

“I can see how that is an issue,” Clark conceded.

“I am not technically the Ambassador to the United States,” She continued. “Nor is Themyscira in the United Nations. Steve has helpfully arranged some support for me, but…well we do not exactly have any records at home either. Everyone knows everyone else. It is that way, just as it has always been. Which means that they are unable to provide any documentation…”

“Which means you don't exist,” Bruce concluded sharply. Diana nodded.

“And while I am very grateful for the assistance your nation has provided me,” She said. “I would prefer for my personal information not to be produced entirely by the United States.”

“Understandable,” Clark said.

“I can help you with a bank account,” Bruce said. “Identity documents may be trickier, since there's no template for Themyscira.”

“I may be able to help with that,” Diana said, feeling oddly embarrassed by the whole thing. “I was rather hoping that my identity would not be merely myself. But a chance to do what you both do, and possess a civilian alter ego.”

“You want a secret identity,” Bruce said.

“Not precisely,” She hastily added. “I have no desire for a day job like you two have, I just want an identity that can allow me to operate with some regularity.”

Clark broke out into that wide, Midwestern grin of his.

“Ya know Bruce?” He says. “I think she wants our help in creating a secret identity.”

…

“Don't tell the others,” She pleaded. “I'd never hear the end of it.”

They were in the Batcave, using the Batcomputer near the Batmobile, which amused Clark and Diana to no end.

“I should hope he would not,” Alfred said, passing out finger sandwiches, which Diana adored immensely. “Master Bruce and Mister Kent have no business lecturing anyone on the absurdities of a double life. Or triple, in the case of a certain Matches Malone.”

“Matches is hardly his own separate life,” Bruce grumbled, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “He's an investigative cover, nearly into the database.”

“Have you picked a name out yet?” Clark asked, ignoring the grumbling.

“I think I can just keep it as Diana,” She said. “Since we already have a no names policy.”

“Hmmm,” Bruce growled. “Risky.”

“Riskier than publicly admitting Wayne Enterprises is funding Batman?” Alfred asked, a single eyebrow rising high on his forehead.

Bruce grunted, which was the closest he came to conceding a point.

“You are staying in DC right?” Clark asked, ignoring the spat between Father-Butler and Son-Vigilante.

“Yes,” Diana said. “And I meant what I said about not wanting, or needing, a day job.”

“Will be tough to explain an income without one,” Bruce noted. “Not impossible though.”

“I can still have one,” She said. “On paper. But not actually do any work involved. Like Bruce.”

“I do…things,” Bruce protested. “As CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

“Indeed you do sir,” Alfred replied in the most patronizing tone of voice Diana had ever heard. Which was saying something, she had once seen Zeus attempt to explain mansplaining to Hera.

“We need something plausible,” Clark said. “Otherwise people will start asking questions.”

“Like nosy reporters?” Diana said with a sly grin.

Bruce gave a snort that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Alfred gave a sensible chuckle himself as he cleared the plates and departed.

“I mean people will think you're a spy,” Clark clarified.

“She’s a conventionally attractive woman with a vaguely foreign accent in Washington DC,” Bruce noted. “They'll think she's a spy anyway.”

Diana blinked, and felt her face contort into something somewhere between confusion, bemusement, and offense.

“Conventionally attractive?” Clark barked out in laughter. “You can just call her beautiful.”

“Aren't you married?” Bruce shot back, and Diana decided this was funny and tried to contain her laughter.

“Yes, and Lois is the expert on beauty,” Clark said. “So if she says Diana is beautiful I'm allowed to.”

Diana smiled bashfully, and managed to avoid blushing too much at the joint complement.

“Back on topic,” Bruce growled, looking up at the computer. “I would suggest something related to antiquities, which would allow you to answer correctly if someone presses you on this.”

“Maybe something regarding the return of stolen artifacts?” She said. “I am not technically a Greek Citizen but I have offered my services to the Prime Minister in negotiations with the British Museum…my mother knew the man who carved those marbles and he would have wanted them returned to Athens.”

“I can get you the documents,” Bruce noted, typing into his computer. “But I can't make people remember things that haven't happened.”

That was true enough, Diana had to concede. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne had existed from birth. Diana…something or other, was springing fully formed into the world like Athena.

“Here’s something,” Bruce said. “Smithsonian Institute, I'm sure you're familiar.”

“Yes.”

“Focus on European antiquities is fairly small for obvious reasons,” Bruce explained. “But I think we can build from there.”

Diana squinted at the words on the screen.

“There,” She said, pointing. “Back Catalog. I presume that means parts of the collections that are not on display for the public? Less pressure to be always present than if I was doing something outward facing.”

“Good catch,” Bruce said, opening up that section for a closer look. “Lots of research opportunities, where no one would be looking for you. But very little expectation that you'll actually publish anything.”

“Is there a position open?” Clark asked.

“There will be soon,” Bruce said, typing away quickly. “Someone is about to win the lottery, and the job posting is going to be swallowed by the system before it gets sent out.”

“You have access to the lottery?” Clark asked, and Diana noted he found this more surprising than Bruce having access to Government servers.

“Wayne Enterprises owns a forty percent stake in the MegaPowerBallStakes, Gotham City Teachers Pension Fund owns the other sixty,” Bruce said.

“Gotham Teachers still have pensions?” Clark asked. “After all the budget problems?”

Bruce just growled and typed away.

“That's a good start,” Bruce said. “We’ll backfill academic qualifications. I'm presuming it might be best to use Europe?”

“That would work,” She said. “Would explain why no one has met me. Although my accent is not exactly Greek, having spoken to several people in several Greektowns.”

“There's still a few diaspora groups in Turkey,” Clark noted. “Actually there’s a house fire in one right now and…just a second.”

He zipped out of the Batcave at an amazing speed. Diana gave Bruce a bemused look. She shot up her thumb. One. Bruce narrowed his eyes. She'd forgotten Americans counted wrong. She held up her pointer. Two. Bruce realized and gave one of his not-smiles. She added her middle finger. Three.

A rush of wind and Clark was back in the Batcave.

“Sorry it took so long,” He said. “Landslide in Morocco on the way there, and flood in France on the way back.”

“No problem,” Diana assured him. “I think a few European universities will do quite nicely.”

“Where do you want to bank?” Bruce asked bluntly, he had never been one for social niceties like transition sentences.

“Wayne Enterprises should work,” She said brightly. “I have certainly had nothing but good experiences with the CEO and his products.”

Bruce shook his head.

“Wayne Banking didn't enter the European market until very recently. If we want to keep your cover story clean, you'll want something with a longer track record.”

“Oh.”

“If you want to keep it in the league, QueenBank has been there for a while. But I can't guarantee Oliver or his people won't find it.”

“Oh.”

“Try LexCorp,” Clark suggested.

“What?” Bruce asked.

“Is that wise?” Diana asked, equally surprised.

“Placing Diana's financial future under the control of a sworn enemy is unacceptably risky,” Bruce added, which earned him a glare from Diana. She could make these decisions herself, thank you very much.

“LexCorp has been in Europe for ages,” Clark explained. “And once you're in, you're in. Lex has total faith in his firewalls. Never does any internal sweeps of his stuff.”

“Done this before, have you?” Diana asked with a smirk.

“Even if he did notice something popped up,” Clark continued. “He'd just convince himself it had always been there.”

“Sounds like a recipe for a serious data breach,” Bruce opined.

Diana agreed. She wasn't the best with all this…computer stuff. But it sounded like a risky way to do business.

“You can add some more protections while you're in there,” Clark said. “And when something does happen, perfect opportunity for an outraged Diana to switch to Wayne Banking.”

Bruce looked at Diana. She shrugged.

“It is worth a shot, as you men say.”

Bruce pulled up the LexCorp banking site and started typing.

“Hmm,” He said. “You were right. This code is repetitive. All clearly from one person. Even my code I have counterchecked by trusted sources.”

“You? Trusting?” Diana asked. Clark chuckled.

“Relatively trusted,” Bruce added defensively. “This is just sloppy work.”

“That's Lex for you,” Clark said. “Gets convinced of something and never deviates for a moment.”

“Will this work?” Diana asked.

“It should,” Bruce said. “This was clever Clark, very clever. Diana next up, government identification. You said you are going to keep the first name Diana. Have you given any thought to a last name.”

Diana had not.

…

“I will admit,” Diana said, licking her spoon. “That I was skeptical of what the banana would add to the already delicious concept of a sundae. But I can now see why the banana split has become such a staple of your culture.”

“It is pretty swell,” Clark said.

“Are you sure you do not want any?” She asked politely.

“I'm fine,” He insisted. “Already ate.”

“It is not that I do not appreciate the food,” She said. “And I am aware you had a meeting with the President earlier. But is there a particular reason you wished to see me while you were here in Washington?”

“Well,” He said thoughtfully. “I went to this place a couple years back, and was just wondering if you knew about it.”

A little girl came up with a sharpie and a big plush manatee, begging for some autographs. They dutifully signed the toy, as well as some napkins in case she ever wanted to wash the manatee but keep the signature.

“Does she have a name?” Diana asked.

The girl blushed but nodded.

“Aloysius McGirt!” She explained, before skipping away.

Diana looked over at Clark, who for a moment seemed frozen in fear at those words. He looked around the room before giving a sigh a relief.

“If that…offensive in man’s world?” Diana asked as they exited the diner, flying up into the sky.

“No…” Clark replied . “Just uh, trouble seems to follow me when someone says McGirt.”

“I'll cross it off the list of possible last names then,” Diana replied.

“You have a list?” Clark asked. “How long is it?”

“A few hundred at this point,” Diana admitted sheepishly. “And it's getting longer, not shorter, as time goes on.”

“Mmm,” Clark said. “Maybe take a break and come back? There's no rush is there?”

“None save my own,” Diana said. “Mother always did say I was impatient.”

“Eager to go out as not Wonder Woman?” Clark asked, and Diana nodded.

Clark frowned, and sipped his club soda. He hadn't ordered anything else for himself, but had taken it to go.

“Is there a reason for that?” He asked quietly. “Anything wrong? Something bothering you? Someone bothering you?”

“Clark” She remembered she was in public. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” He replied. “That doesn't mean you have to handle it by yourself.”

“It's not anyone, or anything in particular,” She admitted. “It's just well…I didn't know that place and you did. And it's barely a minute away from my apartment.”

Now at said apartment, that they climbed into the window, Clark following Diana inside.

“People will talk,” She teased him.

“Let them,” Clark said with surprising force and bitterness. Diana was taken back by that. Normally he took those sorts of rumors with good humor.

“Clark is something bothering YOU?” She asked pointedly.

“Oh, just there's been a new round of rumors about me and Lois,” He replied. “Err, well, Superman and Lois having an affair behind my back. Some rumors about you would take the heat off of Lois.”

“Oh Clark,” She said. “I am sorry to hear that. If you ever need any…”

But he was already looking around her room, his brow furrowing in worry. Oh, Diana realized. He'd never actually seen it before. She knew he'd never been here, and she should have known he was proper enough not to snoop using his powers.

It was…Spartan, she had to admit. Well, the Spartans had had a little less trash lying around. She still had a few pizza boxes and Chinese delivery boxes lying around. And a pile of laundry. Other than that it was pretty standard. A bed, a bath, a mini kitchen.

“Diana…” He said. “This is…cozy.”

She could tell he meant something else. But she wasn't sure what.

“I’m not out as much as I would like,” She admitted. “Wonder Woman is a bit much. I go to Steve’s, Etta’s, and various authorities. The Watchtower. Oh and groceries. But I haven't really you know…gone exploring. When I move to set up my new identity I'll get out more.”

Clark frowned, and looked over the blank walls of the apartment.

“Nothing from home?” He asked.

She pointed to the closet which he opened. A variety of ancient weapons and shields. A couple different variations of her outfit. The pile of gold and silver she had mentioned before.

“I mean more like…momentos,” He said. “Something when you were growing up. Maybe…I don't know a tapestry?”

Diana shook her head no.

“My mother offered but,” She said. “There was nothing I was attached to, in terms of art that was easily moveable. I could not bring Jumpa, because this apartment had a strict no pets policy. Maybe that will be different?”

“Jumpa is…”

“A Kangaroo,” She said.

“Probably a bit large,” Clark admitted.

“I know I should be doing more,” Diana said. “I am supposed to be learning about man's world and here I am shuttling between just a few places. Maybe once I move…” She trailed off.

“If you aren’t getting out now,” Superman replied quietly. “I’m not sure moving will help, even with a new identity. Especially since you won’t regularly be working on a day job outside of what you’re doing now.”

“I know,” Diana said. “It’s just…back home everyone knew me, knew who I was.”

“You were a literal Princess,” Clark surmised.

“It’s not that everyone was deferential or kind,” She continued, nodding along. “But no one needed to be introduced. It’s not just that this is a world of men, it’s that it’s a larger one that I ever possibly could have imagined.”

“Whole lot to explore,” Clark said.

“It might be too late,” Diana said, putting her head in her hands.

“It’s never too late to make friends,” Clark said, which was exactly what he’d told Oscar the Grouch the last time he’d been on Sesame Street. “I mean you don't need a full secret identity to go see a movie, or the mall, or pick a sports team.”

“True,” She said, somewhat skeptically. “But I still wouldn’t know anyone.”

“What about Steve and Etta?”

…

“Both Batman and Superman speak highly of something called baseball,” Diana said, as she let Steve scan their tickets in. “Is this…basketball similar?”

“Uh…” He said. “Not really.”

“A whole lot less sitting around,” Etta added beside him. “That’s for sure. Man this was a great idea, I haven’t been here in forever.”

Etta was wearing a Hoyas t-shirt, proudly proclaiming her allegiances as they entered into the arena. Steve’s Air Force hat was slightly less conspicuous, but no less loyal.

“Thank you for getting the tickets,” Diana said. She was wearing a shirt she’d gotten from a very nice gentlemen in Sri Lanka after she had saved his tailor shop. It was comfortable and betrayed no allegiances, which was appropriate because she had none.

“No problem,” He said. “At least one of us actually went to the school in question.”

“Excuse me!” Etta said, rolling her eyes at Steve as they headed for their seats. “I’ve been a Hoya since before you knew what a falcon was!”

“What is a Hoya?” Diana asked.

“Hell if I know,” Etta replied with a shrug of her broad shoulders.

“Are the teams relatively evenly matched?” Diana asked.

“Air Force is pretty bad this year,” Steve admitted. “And Georgetown is traditionally much better.”

“Big East!” Etta said happily. “I mean we’re pretty mediocre this year, prolly gonna make the NIT at best, but I think we’re the favorites.”

They took their seats, and Diana came to a realization. Several times over the course of her career, villains had thrown her into the arena, or at least tried to. She had some experience with pit fights from home. But the bright lights, music, and video displays had been strange and off putting to her. Now she realized that these had merely been grotesque parodies of these sorts of sporting spectacles.

The game itself was just as enthralling to Diana, it involved repeatedly bouncing the ball in one’s hands, something that was called “dribbling” and then trying to throw the ball into a ring. The difficulty came from the fact that the ring was aligned horizontally so the ball had to come down. And of course the other team was attempting to prevent this at the same time. It was high scoring as well, although it was not particularly evenly matched. As Etta had predicted, the Georgetown team was generally more skilled than the Air Force team.

“Yeah well,” Steve said during the ‘half-time break.’ “Service academies always have it tough, none of these guys are gonna go pro.”

“Pro? As in professional?” Diana asked. “That is…I know the local team is the Wizards, but the team in Colorado is quite good as well.”

“Nuggets are on the up yeah,” Etta said.

“Not for long if this performance is any indication,” Diana said, pointing to the increasingly lopsided scoreboard.

“Oh the location of the college doesn’t matter where they wind up going pro,” Steve explained. “Heck, most college players don’t wind up playing professionally, especially from the service academies since they have a tour of duty to serve when they graduate.”

“Oh,” Diana said, blushing slightly at her own ignorance but filing the knowledge away for later use.

“Remind me to take you to a Mystics game sometime,” Etta added. “You’ll appreciate it I think.”

Diana nodded

“I’m gonna go get some food,” Steve said. “Want anything?”

“I’ll take a hotdog,” Etta said, handing him some currency. “Oh and some fries if they have it.”

“Diana?”

“I…do not know,” She admitted.

“Oooh, you’ve got to try Dippin’ Dots,” Etta suggested.

“What are those?”

“They’re like…little balls of ice cream they snap froze into bits, and then they mix them together,” Etta said. “Really good.”

“Eh,” Steve said with a shrug. “They’re alright, but overpriced, and stadium food is already overpriced.”

Diana, however, did not really need to worry about money, and was always eager to explore new frontiers in ice cream, and so readily agreed to try some Dippin Dots.

She was not disappointed.

…

“Right this way to your office,” The pleasant secretary said, leading the way.

Diana Prince, definitely normal human woman with absolutely no superpowers, followed behind. They wandered through a vast labyrinth of offices, unseen to the viewing public. The inner workings of the Smithsonian.

“The boss is out at a conference of some sort,” the secretary continued. “But we should be able to get you set up here shortly.”

Diana Prince’s office was in a hallway clustered witha few other offices. She did not have a nameplate yet, just a sticky note that said “New Curator” slapped on the door.

She set her rather light bag down, and discreetly checked her hair. A tight bun seemed the most contrasting with her usual look, at least since she had declined Kara’s offer of wigs. Glasses added to the illusion, or so Clark had insisted.

“Right,” The Secretary said, looking rather flustered. “Computer isn't here yet, that's an issue.”

“I plan on working remotely fairly often,” Diana said, hoping to avoid trouble.

But the Secretary shook her head.

“We'll need it to set up your card,” She explained. “Sit tight, I'll be right back when I find the IT people.”

Before Diana could respond, she rushed out of the office. Diana sighed and sat in her chair. At least it rolled. She liked when chairs rolled like this.

“Knock knock,” came a voice from the doorway.

Diana looked up and saw a woman standing there, tan skin, brown hair, and an appraising smile.

“So you're our new recruit,” The woman said.

“Yes,” Diana said, standing and offering a hand. “Diana Prince, European Back Catalog Librarian and Research Fellow.”

The woman shook her hand with a grin, as if amused at Diana’s formality. Zeus, was she being too formal? She had no idea the protocol here.

“Alana Dominguez,” The newcomer said, a hint of an accent in her voice. “I handle Indigenous American Art behind the scenes, Lawrence should be here somewhere…”

She stuck her head out the door.

“Hey Lawrence!” She shouted. “Come meet the new hire!”

A muffled, if vaguely affirmative reply came from down the hall.

“You'll like Lawrence,” Alana said with a remarkable amount of assurance for someone who had just met Diana. “He handles most of the Sub-Saharan African collection.”

“Not all though,” Lawrence said, joining Alana in the doorway. “Bossman covers plenty. Besides, we all juggle work when we need it. Hi I'm Lawrence.”

Lawrence was a tall black man with cropped hair and a firm handshake.

“Diana,” Diana replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Lawrence said. “Glad to be working with you.”

“Not too much,” Alana said. “Heard her say she was mostly remote.”

“Just like I-Ching?” Lawrence sighed, before turning to explain. “Our Asian Collection Curator, he's always in or out, doing something or other. All mysterious about it.”

“Truth be told I suspect it will be more of the same,” Diana said. “The flexibility offered is a bonus.”

Lawrence shrugged.

“Dan White was the same way, before he won the lottery and moved to Brazil with his wife,” He explained. “Lucky bastard.”

“Very,” Alana said. “So Diana, where are you from, if you don't mind me asking? I bounced around the Rez, Monterrey, and San Diego before I went to college.”

“Greece originally,” Diana said.

“Oh really?” Lawrence asked. “What part? When I was in the Force we flew some missions out there?”

“Oh really?” Diana asked. “I…I'm sorry if this is rude but did you know Steve Trevor?”

Lawrence's face lit up into a broad smile.

“Steve Trevor!” He laughed. “Yeah of course, he was in my unit. How do you know him?”

“Mutual friend,” Diana lied quickly.

“Really? Who is it?” Lawrence asked. “I might know them too.”

Hades. She hasn't actually thought of a lie.

“Family friend?” She supplied, hoping to keep the question out of her voice.

Lawrence, mercifully, did not press the subject.

“Man,” He said. “Haven't talked with him in forever, he still in the Force? Doing that hush hush stuff?”

“Yes,” Diana said. “Very hush hush.”

Lawrence laughed and shook his head.

“Steve always was the type…” A phone rang from down the hall. “That's probably mine, the Namibians have been on a warpath for a while now, but hey if you have time maybe the three of us could grab drinks after work sometime, maybe even dig up I-Ching and the boss little welcome thing. That sounds good?”

He ran off.

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” Alana said. “He's big on team building, think it's the Air Force in him.”

Diana hadn't really given much thought to her coworkers. She wasn't planning on doing much of anything at her job aside from making a paper trail. But what had those latins said, seize the day…

“I think I do actually,” She replied.

…

“So how again do you know Lois Lane?” Etta asked, skeptically.

“You do know who I work with right?” Diana asked, raising her eyebrow as they stepped out of the elevator.

“There's knowing Superman,” Etta pressed. “And then there's…Superman’s…main press contact being willing to go clothes shopping with you.”

“About to say something else there Candy?” Lane shot back. “Something about me and Superman?”

“Both of you shut it,” Kara said nervously. “We are in public.”

“And I don't even know who you are,” Etta pressed. “Who is Kara Danvers? And why does she know Wonder Woman? I don't think you're Justice League but then you can never be sure.”

“I said be quiet!” Kara said, not very quietly.

Diana sighed as they entered the store. She had a fatal shortage of ‘girl friends’ as they were apparently called, who could help her go shopping. And unfortunately they did not seem to be getting along. Etta and Lois were both naturally suspicious, and that seemed to grate. Maybe she should have invited Alana, that would have had least kept them from speculating about secret identities.

“Hush all three of you,” Diana said. “I did not invite you here to bicker. I invited you here because I own very few outfits and am in need of your assistance in acquiring a wardrobe.”

“Sorry,” Kara conceded. She was not as close to Diana as some of the others, but she had been with Superman when Diana had asked about Lois and she did have some experience adapting to a strange new world.

“What do we think your main style is going to be?” Lois said. “I mean I have some thoughts, but obviously it's up to you.”

“Open,” Diana said. “Friendly but formal, I suppose.”

Etta winced slightly.

“That can be a difficult combination,” She admitted. “But no rule saying you can't have as many styles as you want.”

“You do have the cash right?” Lois said. “From what…well…”

“Oh sure you get to know her finances,” Etta muttered. “But if I ask for one stupid hint about…”

“She told me,” Lois countered. “Her secret to tell…”

“What did I just say?” Diana said with increasing resignation.

“I guess the first question is are you going to conceal your costume under your outfit,” Kara said. “Or duck off and change? You could probably manage either.”

“What do you do?” Diana asked.

Kara looked nervously at Etta who sighed.

“I can plug my ears if you want,” She said.

“Could you?” Kara said sheepishly.

Etta sighed again, but covered her ears dutifully

“Mostly under,” Kara said. “The skirt depends on what I'm wearing that day, yours should be fairly easy to cover, although with all that metal it may be harder to wear something that isn't baggy.”

Diana nodded and tapped Etta on the shoulder to unplug her ears.

“All good?” She asked. “Because I don't want to be doing that on and off all day.”

“All good,” Kara said.

“I am leaning towards a looser fit myself,” Diana admitted. “I am more familiar with that from home and ease of movement is always appreciated.”

“Good place to start,” Etta said. “You have a favorite color. I know you've got the whole red white and blue thing going on but you've never actually said those are your favorites.”

“Orange,” Diana said. “Like the Sunset and Sunrise.”

Lois looked at Etta who looked at Kara who looked at Lois and they all nodded.

“I think we can work with that.”

…

Diana hadn't meant to get invited to the Smithsonian Gala. In fact she'd turned down an invitation for Wonder Woman because she worried someone might recognize her. And she hadn't expected to be invited as Diana Prince because it was a rather exclusive event, all things considered, and random curators from forgotten backrooms were not invited to such things.

Except Lawrence's buddy, not Steve different buddy from a different deployment, was important enough to get tickets and had roped Lawrence into going. But then Lawrence's brother had broken his leg and Lawrence had had to fly down to Jackson to take care of them. Offers had bounced around the office until the ticket had landed on Diana's desk. And she had figured it would be fun.

What she had not expected was to see Bruce Wayne there, a couple models at each of his arms. Laughing in a way that was so obnoxiously fake that it was a wonder no one had figured it out.

“...and I was just saying to him,” Bruce was saying. “That you really have to put the plums before the kiwis.”

Everyone around him burst out laughing, and even Diana had to smirk, although not from the joke itself.

He was wearing a neat suit with a black tie, she had splurged for an elegant gold dress that just touched the floor, hiding her lasso from passers by, but still well in reach in case of any unexpected trouble.

When Bruce laid eyes on her, his eyes immediately focused, going from vaguely dazed to hawklike in seconds.

“What's going on?” He asked. “I thought you weren't…”

“Well who is this lovely lady?” One of Bruce's companions interrupted. “And why hasn't Brucie introduced us before?”

One of the girls on Bruce's arm gave a slightly jealous huff.

“Brucie?” Diana asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I am afraid that I am not familiar with him.”

“You've never heard of Bruce Wayne?” One of the men, clearly slightly drunk, said pointing at Bruce's face. Which was looking extremely puzzled and more than a little concerned.

“Oh the Bruce Wayne,” She said, placing as much emphasis on the word ‘the’ as she could. “I mean I have heard of him, of course, but we have not been acquainted.”

“Really?” One of Bruce's companions asked. “It's not like ol’ Brucie to forget a pretty face, or mix them up.”

“Must be the champagne,” Bruce said with a wave of the hand, and really how did anyone fall for this. “Enchanté, Miss…”

His tone was loaded. She probably should bail him out before he concluded she was being mind controlled or whatever it was that his paranoid mind could cook up.

“Doctor,” She corrected cheekily. “Doctor Diana Prince, I work on the back catalog here at the Smithsonian.”

Bruce's eyes glinted with recognition as the pieces clicked.

“Pleased to meet you, Doctor Prince,” Bruce said, extending his hand. She shook it firmly, and returned the gesture.

“The pleasure is all mine,” She replied. “I believe you were just telling a story.”

“Oh yes,” The man on Bruce's right said with a laugh. “We were having a party you see, to celebrate my son joining the board, and Bruce here had a little to much to drink…”

“Now now,” Bruce said. “We don't want to bore the lovely lady…”

Another huff from one of the girls who seemed to hang off of Bruce like lichen. In fairness, they were all very pretty in their own right, Diana could not entirely blame people for assuming Bruce was intrigued in them. Especially the redhead on the right.

“...I'm sure she has better people to meet and see than little old Brucie Wayne.”

“I was actually invited at the last minute,’ She said, smiling like a shark. “So I really don't have anyone else to talk to.”

Diana wound up with a crash course on the wild exploits of Bruce Wayne. Some of them, admittedly, were false, cover stories for events as Batman, some of which she had been present for. Like crashing his snowmobile into a coconut tree. Others, however, seemed dreadfully real. Like the time he'd been shoved in a chocolate fountain, or had two dates at the same party.

Brucie Wayne was an empty, vapid mad. And more than that, he was something of a pushover. Half of his hijinks were a result of rich friends taking advantage of him, milking him for money or favors. It was honestly a little sad, if you were an outsider looking in. A man left orphaned, but trapped in a gilded cage, never having grown up, being buffeted around like a mite in the wind.

But since Diana knew the truth about things, it was also incredibly amusing. Watching Batman give an exaggerated laugh, or talk about snorting coke from a diamond encrusted cutting board, was extraordinary. (Diana was a little confused about the coke comment, she was under the impression that coke was something one drank, not snorted).

“You know,” She said, with a tilt to her voice. “At another job of mine, I had a coworker who was tightly wound, the exact opposite of Bruce here.”

He gave a good show of being offended, but she could see a slight hint of terror in his eyes as she moved in for the kill.

“You all would have loved him though,” Diana said. “So easily frightened…”

“Bruce here is something of a scaredy cat as well,” Someone called out.

“Paranoid beyond belief,” She insisted. “There were some minor issues at our workplace. Computer freezes, transport…issues, doors opening and closing. Convinced there was something wrong with our workplace. A haunting, a hacker, a glitch, theory after theory after theory he had for them. All because some evil competetor was after our secrets.”

Bruce’s smile was looking rather strained. He had been on this “case” for years by this point.

“These things harmed no one,” Diana said.

“Still would be important to check right?” Bruce asked nervously. “Just in case? Especially if this was a highly secure area in a location where any systems failure could be disastrous.”

“Told you he was a scaredy cat.”

“That is true,” Diana conceded. “If they were accidental glitches. And maybe some of them even were. But this man, our security chief insisted on doing special diagnostics everytime anyone reported an error. So what happened was that anyone scheduled for regular diagnostics just reported an error right before their shift. He did all the work fixing any issues that really did crop up. Now these people still checked things over, but they never, not once, ever had to do any actual work.”

There was general laughter from everyone except Bruce.

“Eventually, of course, he found out,” And Diana made sure to look Bruce dead in the eye. “And I am sure he really wanted to give everyone a lecture about…oh what was that fable about?”

“The Boy who cried wolf,” Bruce said, his fake grin now doing his best Joker Venom impression. “Too many false alarms and the real one won’t register.”

“Except for a few things,” Diana said. “One is that this man was so paranoid, so obsessive, he would never actually stop. Even if he knew that some of the glitches were fake, he would never be able to stop double and triple checking, just to be safe.”

Bruce shifted ever so slightly. Only a trained warrior such as Diana would have noticed.

“The other, of course,” She said. “was that there were other engineers who were in on the prank, they knew which wolves were wolves.”

“Clever,” Bruce said. “But wouldn't he chew you out anyway?”

“That would require him ever admitting he was wrong,” Diana said. “And worse still, admitting that not everything is a nefarious scheme of evil.”

“You just described a scheme,” Bruce asked.

“Perhaps,” Diana said lightly. “But he would still have to admit to being tricked by his coworkers. And he wasn't even the one who figured it out. Someone just told him, not intimidated, not uncovered, just told him. And he could never do anything about it.”

All of Bruce's companions laughed uproariously, and Bruce gave a sensible chuckle. But the look in his eyes made Diana very glad Batman did not kill.

…

“SHIT SHIT SHIT,” Lawrence said as flames engulfed his desk. “MOTHERFUCKER!”

“What the hell is that thing?” Alana gasped. At the center of the inferno was what looked to be an egg. And it was hatching, albeit very slowly, glowing cracks spreading across the surface.

“Cyngian Phoenix Egg,” Diana said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “What is it doing here? It’s supposed to be kept in total darkness until it hatches, otherwise it births a fire Basilisk instead.”

“How do you…” Alana asked. “How would…”

“How was I supposed to know what it was?” Lawrence shouted.

“How did you find it?” Diana asked.

“Someone logged an archive request,” Lawrence explained. “Wanted photos and a record.”

“That is not good,” Diana said. “If someone wanted if opened…were they after you or did they just want a fire Basilisk?”

Fire Basilisks were a nuisance, yes, but not exactly apocalyptic in scope. She had a hard time seeing anyone wanting one loose, but then she had a hard time seeing anyone trying to kill Lawrence for any reason, much less with a magical egg.

“I'm more worried about the fire Diana,” Alana said, her voice wavering.

That was true. The birth of a fire Basilisk could be explosive, in addition to the fire. And while Diana could survive it easily, her colleagues were not so lucky.

“Someone should get help,” Lawrence said, calming down into a more military demeanor. “There was a training module on this, remember? A mystical response team. Someone go and get help.”

This, Diana realized dimly, was when Clark or Bruce would have rushed out of the room. Lawrence had provided her with a perfect excuse to leave and change into Wonder Woman, before bursting in to save the day. There would be explanations and excuses, but nothing impossible. But Diana just wasn't used to it, she wasn't used to fleeing from danger, even if it was just a tactical retreat to return. And she certainly wasn't going to leave her coworkers, her friends, to burn or be crushed by a falling building. But how to do it without exposing her secret identity? Could she do it without exposing her secret identity?

Before she could decide the answers to those fateful questions, someone burst through the ceiling and answered, a flash of blue and red. Diana could see the process Clark was taking, pulling his cape around the egg, smothering the flames. Her coworkers, however, likely only saw a blur and the smashing of the ceiling.

It took them a moment to register that Superman was standing in front of them, his cape wrapped around the egg, smoke sizzling up from it.

“Superman…” Lawrence breathed, which broke the tension a little.

“In the flesh,” Clark said with a small smile. “Now did you have a safe place to store this? If not I can hurl it into the Sun but I don't want to destroy museum property more than I already have.”

He looked up somewhat sheepishly at the hole in the ceiling. No doubt there was already a bank account transferring money to the Smithsonian for the cost of repairs. And if it was a quiet night, Clark might just do it himself.

Lawrence hastily provided the box that had previously contained the egg. Clark slipped the egg in and slammed the box shut.

“Thank you…” Diana was momentarily afraid Clark would blow the fact that he already knew his name. “I'm sorry what were your names? How rude of me.”

Only Clark could think himself rude for not asking for names while saving lives.

“Lawrence,” Lawrence said.

“Hi,” Alana said nervously. “I'm not sure you remember, but a couple of years ago I was on a bus in Yosemite that ran off a cliff…”

Clark snapped his fingers.

“I remember you,” Clark said with a smile. “You helped the Korean couple up and out while I held the bus. Alana was it?”

Alana blushed and nodded.

Clark gave a small smirk at Diana as he turned to face her.

“And you are?” He asked.

“Diana Prince,” She said, offering her hand in reflex. Lawrence and Alana gasped at her audacity, and Diana blushed. Clark just grinned that Midwestern grin of his and gave a firm handshake. So firm it probably would have crushed Lawrence or Alana’s bones. But they didn't know that.

“Now that we're all introduced,” Clark said, looking at the box. No doubt with his X-Ray vision. “What was that? I heard screaming and the alarms, but I'm afraid I don't recognize it.”

“Diana knew,” Alana said. “You said it was some sort of Phoenix Egg? How did you know that?”

“I am an expert in Greek antiquities,” Diana replied. “And that includes some magic items. I am not terribly familiar with the specifics, but I know it will either hatch into a Phoenix or a Basilisk, and that the former is far preferable to the latter.”

Lawrence nodded.

“It was a public information request,” Lawrence said. “Just asking for the basic records of it, including a photo. Everything was in order…but now I see why no one has taken it out since 1933.”

“Public info request…” Clark mused. “You know, there’s been a string of museum thefts in Metropolis, focusing on magical, or allegedly magical items.”

“I’ve heard,” Lawrence said. Which made Diana slightly ashamed because she hadn’t, and what kind of museum curator didn’t follow that sort of news? Also she was supposed to be a magic expert in the League. She should have been paying attention.

“But why make a public records request?” Lawrence wondered. “Surely you’re just giving away that you’re targeting something?”

That was a fair point.

“On the other hand, we do get a ton of information requests,” Lawrence noted. “Mostly about display items, but plenty on back catalogue. Heck, we encourage people to learn more using the system. Wouldn’t be suspicious ahead of time, unless it caught fire. Heck, it still might be that way.”

“What else do we know about this thief?” Diana asked.

“We?” Alana said, raising an eyebrow. “We don’t need to know anything about it. We’re not police, or superheroes.”

Diana wished she could wipe that twinkle from Clark’s eye, but she couldn’t exactly explain why she wanted that to her coworkers.

“They did just set my office on fire,” Lawrence said. “I don’t like that.”

“They’re good obviously,” Clark said. “They’d have to be to break in to these museums. But they obviously don’t know their magic as well as their heists. They’ve stolen several items said to be magical, as well as at least one display replica. Not that what they do have isn’t dangerous.”

Something clicked in Diana’s head.

“They were…” Diana whirled her hand around searching for the right bit of slang. “What do you say, casing the museum? They may have only had an idea that this object might be valuable, or if we even had it. So they file a request, so Lawrence can tell them if it is worth stealing. And of course they do not know magic, so they had no idea.”

“A good gig if you can get it. Good thinking Diana,” Clark said and hearing him say her name but in the way he talked to civilians was definitely an odd experience. “This may actually be my first lead on the case, although now that’s in DC I should probably talk with Wonder Woman or the Feds…”

“Would she mind?” Alana asked, despite herself.

“Oh she can be territorial,” Clark chuckled and Diana felt a surge of sympathy for what she had put Bruce through. “And besides she’s the magic expert, not me.”

“We could bait them here,” Diana noted suddenly. “Send them confirmation that it is valuable, and they would come right for it.”

“Again with this ‘we’ business,” Alana noted. “You’ve had some hare brained schemes before Diana, but this was worse than when you insisted we adopt a revisionist approach to the Trojan War.”

“It was a disproportionate response!” Diana insisted. “Greek accounts are classic victor’s justice.”

That Amazons had fought for the Trojans was neither here nor there at the moment.

“You are Greek!” Alana said.

“Not really the time to relitigate that,” Lawrence said. “Technically our responses to records inquiries are supposed to be open and honest, but given the circumstances I’m sure we could talk to the boss and work something out.”

Clark nodded along.

“That would be smart,” He replied. “I’ll have someone from the League talk with someone from the Smithsonian about arranging this.”

“This?” Alana said. “Superman we’re civillians we don’t…you can’t.”

“That is true,” Clark replied soothingly. “You aren’t expected to do anything, in fact, I will warn you that you all should stay away and out of trouble. You’ve been a great help, all three of you. But there is no reason to put yourself into danger over this alright?”

Alana was mollifed, although Lawrence looked somewhat offended. Diana just raised her eyebrows skeptically at Clark’s words.

…

“Surely you have something better to do,” Diana said. “Some earthquake or storm somewhere overseas.”

“I could say the same for you,” Clark replied. “Even if this is magic related, someone else definitely could have juggled this. Detective Chimp maybe.”
“He would consider it beneath him,” Diana said. “Not enough mystery to unravel. He is very choosy, it is why he is not in the League proper you know.”

They were hovering above the Smithsonian at night, hiding themselves in the shadows of the clouds of an overcast evening. The bait had been set weeks ago, Lawrence dutifully sending out a false report confirming that the Smithsonian had the egg, and that it was authentic. He’d even helpfully described it as “priceless.”

Priceless, in this case, was around $12,000, if the dark web auction Bruce had dug up was any indication. So not only were these thieves magical neophytes, they were also hubristic. Diana would appreciate taking them down a peg.

“I wish I could have done this as Diana Prince,” She admitted. “It is my place of work, after all.”

Clark gave a gentle smile.

“I know,” He admitted. “It can be frustrating when Clark Kent does all the legwork only for Superman to swoop in and save the day by himself.”

“That is one thing Bruce does not have to worry about,” Diana replied. “But still…”

“I would have bent the rules a little to let you three help out more,” Superman said. “But Alana clearly did not want to be involved anymore than she already was and if you and Lawrence had gone she would have felt pressured into going along.”

“You made the right choice,” Diana assured him. “Really it is for the best that we do not bend too many rules to accommodate our desires. And I certainly do not want them getting hurt, no more than I would Candy or Steve.”

“You really have grown into it,” Clark said. “I had thought the original plan was just to use it as a cover story, not actually do any work.”

Diana shrugged. It was true. She still wasn’t doing all that much work, and while she was hardly Wally or Clark she could get things done far more quickly than any mortal. But she was doing some, and probably would get around to actually doing a research paper at some point soon.

Clark frowned, cocking his head.

“Is Lawrence supposed to be working this late?” He asked, pointing down towards the building. “Because he’s in there right now.”

“What?” Diana asked. “How would be even…oh that idiot. He's trying to play the hero…couldn't he at least have called Steve or something?”

“Do you want to talk to him,” Clark “Or should I?”

“I'll go,” Diana muttered. “Did he drag Alana into this?”

Clark glanced down and nodded.

“We'll have to have a chat about that,” Diana grumbled, as she swooped down to the building.

Their actual offices were buried deep in the building and not graced with anything so luxurious as windows, so normally Diana would have had to break someone else's or find one that could be opened from the outside. Here, however, all she had to do was pull out her key card and buzz in. Mr. Terrific was already wiping the tapes tonight, so it wouldn't be picked up.

It was weird, being in the office at night. Less people, more shadows. Everything seemed smaller now, although that was mostly because Diana was floating down the hallway rather than walking. Eventually she found her way to Lawrence's office. She paused outside the door.

“...can't get ahold of Diana. You know how she is with her phone,” Lawrence was saying.

“Never answers the thing,” Alana said. “Like she's ninty years old or something.”

There was a certain fondness to their griping that warmed Diana's heart. So that had been what the buzzing was earlier. She had those ght it was an alarm and turned it off. Still, she had a job to do, and knocked three times at the door. The pair inside fell instantly silent.

“Who is it?” Lawrence asked warily.

Diana almost answered “Diana,” but that would have given away everything. She should probably lower her voice for the conversation as well, now that she thought of it.

She opened the door to their shocked faces.

“You two are not supposed to be here,” She said, as regally as possible.

Both Alana and Lawrence took shocked steps back as Diana settled onto her feet in front of them, arms crossed. There wasn't a mirror in Lawrence's office but she knew she looked very different from the Diana they knew. Her hair was loose and wavy, not in a tight bun or ponytail as she did at work. Instead of bulky jackets or a pantsuit, her muscular arms were bare. Diana Prince wore sensible flats, Wonder Woman wore thick metal boots. And, of course, she was not wearing the glasses. Diana saw recognition in their eyes, but the recognition of a celebrity, not as a coworker. She derived a certain amount of satisfaction from that, despite the less than ideal circumstances.

“Wonder Woman,” Alana breathed. Lawrence still looked tense.

“Alana,” Diana said, before glaring at Lawrence. “Lawrence.”

“I…what? How do you know our names?” Lawrence spluttered.

“You did meet Superman didn't you?” Diana asked, eyebrow raised. “Who asked you specifically not to get further involved in this affair.”

Lawrence frowned.

“Can't help it if they keep dragging me in,” He grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Diana asked.

“I'm guessing Superman told you about how I got a records request and sent them back a reply?”

Diana nodded.

“Well whoever it was, they thought it worked,” Lawrence said. “I had a lot on my plate, so I stayed late, and when I got to the records requests…there were more than normal. I called Alana over to try and figure out if this was the same type of scheme.”

Diana suspected that it was. Or perhaps even an attempt to set Lawrence up to take the fall for any thefts that might occur of artifacts.

“I thought it was the website,” Alana said. “They updated it to encourage records requests and sent it around to a bunch of academics. But almost all of them are for items rumored to be magical. We tried to contact our coworker Diana, she's more of an expert on magic, but we couldn't get a hold of her.”

“Have you replied to anything?” Diana asked.

Both of them shook their head.

“I just don't get why they'd do this, even if they don't suspect anyone has noticed, if they do try a break in there's going to be an increase in security,” Lawrence said.

Diana's mind whirled. He had a fair point. Unless they realized they were under a cloud of suspicion already, and that multiple break ins would soon become an impossibility…

“They are moving tonight,” Diana said. “I suspect that they realize the window is closing.”

“Tonight?” Lawrence asked. “As in…now?”

Diana nodded.

“Superman is here as well,” She explained. “He will be remaining at a distance since he…ah does not always agree with magic.”

Her earpiece crackled and popped to life. She touched her ear, less out of necessity than the fact that she didn't want to seem as if she was speaking into thin air for no reason.

“Very funny,” Clark said. “I'll help keep track of things, but it looks like there's some lead lining on the vault itself, which could be an issue.”

“Understood Superman,” Diana replied. “I have two civilians here who'll be coming out shortly.”

“Hold on,” Lawrence said. “You'll need us to get into the storage vault, it's key locked, and you don't have a key.”

She did, but she could hardly admit that without questions she very much did not want to answer. She could probably force open the doors herself, but the League really was trying to lessen property damage. And she couldn't just wait for the robbers to make their own breach.

Clark chuckled over the earpiece, which did not help her mood. But she was forced to relent on that particular matter.

“Alright,” She replied. “But then you are getting out of the building. Immediately. And you both stay behind me.”

She led them through the winding halls to the storage vault. Thankfully, neither Lawrence nor Alana raised the obvious question of how she knew the location. They simply accepted that a Superhero would know their way around the building, even one she had nominally never been to. They arrived at the vault. Well, they called it the vault. It wasn’t really a vault. Just a large warehouse with thicker than normal, and apparently leadlined, walls, with a few extra security measures. Hardly the world’s most secure location.

Diana had to stop herself from automatically pulling out her own key card, instead letting Lawrence do so. But she did insist on being the one to open the door. Which was a good thing, because she was met with several gunshots. She deflected them quickly with her arms.

“GET OUT!” She roared. Alana needed no such prompting, she was already bolting down the hallway. Diana was a little more worried about Lawrence, who was a combat veteran and stubborn, even if he had no means to fight back. However he quickly followed, apparently being yelled at by Wonder Woman was a powerful motivator.

Diana continued to deflect bullets casullay as she entered the vault. She chided herself for thinking so lowly of Lawrence. She had assumed he had been doing something rash tonight, only to find he had been doing his job. And a combat veteran would know more than anyone else how unsuited a combat zone was for an unarmed man.

But for now she needed to focus. This was a warehouse with at least one, possibly several, magical artifacts. And those artifacts that were not magical were still priceless to researchers and various cultures from across the world. She could not afford to deflect bullets haphazardly, or, as Clark called it, “willy nilly.” So she mostly just deflected them into the ceiling.

She stalked through the rows upon rows of boxes and artifacts, which reached upwards. Slowly the lights automatically flickered on, clicking forward, illuminating more and more.

“Shit,” A voice swore from behind one rack, and Diana spotted a gunbarrel sticking out from between a row of antebellum dresses. “Shit shit shit. It’s Wonder Woman shit shit, do you copy…”

She lunged forward. Flying through the air, she grabbed the barrel of the gun, and crushed it in her fist.

“Shit shit,” The voice said, having sensibly dropped the gun and started to run, Diana could see the patter of feet on the concrete floor. Discarding the now useless gun, Diana lept into the air, swooping up past the highest of the racks and towards the now bullet ridden roof, a few lights sparking and out after being hit. She looked down, and spies her would be assailant running towards a cluster of people in dark clothing, he seemed to be loading things into creates, only to be interrupted by panic at her arrival. Thankfully, there was no fire, no explosions, nor anything that suggested they had caused some magical accident.

She reached to her hip and pulled out her lasso. She tossed it just as she dove down towards the gang, who weren't even looking up for her. She twirled it around, waiting for her assailant to reunite with his compatriots. The moment he did so she threw it down. The loop expanded to surround all of the robbers at once, glowing gold as she willed it to bind them all together. Their weapons and tools dropped to the ground as they were all tied up into a neat bundle.

“Now,” She said. “Is this everyone?”

The Lasso of Truth naturally compelled them to respond honestly. They all affirmed that they were the only robbers.

Huh.

This was quicker than expected.

…

The Metropolitan Women's Gala was the nation's largest fundraiser for women's science, education and rights. As the most prominent female hero, Wonder Woman had been one of the first people on the invite list, which she had graciously accepted. The invite list was women only, although plus ones were encouraged and the press was welcome.

“...lovely opportunity to promote peace and justice.” Diana concluded, to the scribbling of pens.

“Time for questions?” Clark asked, pen on paper. Diana cocked an eyebrow.

“I would have thought Lois Lane would have been the Planet’s woman on the scene for this,” She admitted.

“Had an invitation in her own right,” Clark said with a shrug.

“I'll tell her you said hello,” Diana replied with a wink, which got laughter from the crowd of journalists, none more so than Clark himself.

She left the journalists before they could ask her any questions about the failed heist in Washington. Diana weaved through the crowd. It felt a little awkward, being in her armor for such a formal occasion, but that was par the course for members of the Justice League at official functions.

As she passed the refreshments table she grabbed a tall glass of champagne. It was apparently intoxicating for mortals, but it was not strong compared to the wine at home. She drank it mainly for the pleasant carbonation bubbles involved.

“Wonder Woman!” A vaguely familiar voice called out from a few tables away. “I knew you'd be here.”

Diana glanced over and saw who was speaking, a woman with Silvery White Hair, beckoning her over. Silver St. Cloud, Gotham heiress and gambler. They had met at a charity auction, if Diana recalled correctly. However far more interesting was St. Cloud’s companion, presumably her plus one, one Bruce Wayne.

Diana walked over to join them.

“Ms. St. Cloud,” She replied. “It is good to see you again. And I don’t believe we've ever met sir, but I think I can hazard a guess.”

“So can I,” Bruce said with a grin that seemed slightly manic and Diana was instantly worried he was going to try and set up some sort of revenge for the Smithsonian Gala.

St. Cloud, however was more interested in showily showing off her diamond ring, which Diana vaguely recalled was a sign of an impending marriage. Clearly she wanted someone to comment on it, so Diana obliged.

“Congradulations are in order,” She said with a nod. “Although if Mr. Wayne’s reputation is anything to go by…”

Both St. Cloud and Bruce laughed at the prospect.

“No no,” St. Cloud replied. “My dear Elmer is, well he’s not much for parties I have to say. And he and Bruce go way back, and Brucie here just couldn’t stay away from a party full of beautiful women.”

Bruce gave a gracious shug that admitted his faults.

“I had to make an appearance,” He replied. “And Silver and her fiance owe me a favor after the incident where he…he owes me a favor.”

“All's well that ends well,” Silver said. “Now we can focus our attention on finding Brucie someone to settle down with.”

Diana raised an inquiring eyebrow at that.

“You have your work cut out for you,” Diana said. “Even I have heard of his exploits.”

“Don’t think too little of me please,” Bruce said. “I go through my fair share of women, alright more than my fair share, but I do try to treat them well and show them a good time.”

“Of course,” Diana said with a nod. No false hopes at least.

“What about you?” Bruce asked. “Any handsome men in the life of Wonder Woman?”

“Or women,” St. Cloud said implishly. “Don’t think we haven’t heard of the island full of women.”

She hadn’t officially announced anything in particular but…Diana took a sip of champagne to avoid the question briefly.

Bruce however, at last sprung his trap onto his poor unsuspecting coworker.

“You’re in DC right now right?” He asked rhetorically, and Diana was forced to nod in agreement. “You know I was at a gala the other month, for the Smithsonian you know, a fundraiser thing. And there was a gorgeous curator there. Diana King, I think it was?”

“Prince,” Diana said tightly. “If you are referring to the woman I think you are.”

“Yes that’s it!” Bruce said triumphantly. “You’ve met?”

“Not as such,” Diana replied carefully, glancing at St. Cloud who seemed generally amused. “Some of her colleagues assisted me with a case, that it all.”

“Oh I’m sure you’d get along great,” Bruce said. “She specializes in Mediterranean and Greco-Roman Artifacts.”

“Does she,” Diana said dryly. “Because I have found that modern scholarship in the area does not always reflect what the Amazons recall.”

Bruce paused but did not falter.

“Oh she is VERY interested in challenging the current consensus,” He pressed on. “I’m sure she would love to…pick your brain on the matter.”

He had the gall to wink at her. She had to fight to keep herself from blushing.

“Bruce!” St. Cloud practically screeched. “Not everyone hob nobs like you do.”

“I’m sure Wonder Woman can handle it,” Bruce said with that smug smile of his.

“I’m not worried about her,” St. Cloud pressed. “I’m worried about that poor archivist you’re trying to set up a blind date with Wonder Woman! She might not even be gay, or she might not want to date a Superhero.”

“You know,” Diana said, sensing an opportunity. “Given his tendency towards flashy affairs, I’m surprised Bruce here hasn’t tried that.”

Bruce blinked as St. Cloud laughed, then scratched her chin thoughtfully.

“Not you of course,” St. Cloud said, tapping her chin. “No offense Wonder Woman, but you’d overshadow him just a wee too much. Someone who would still overshadow him, but not bring that much heat when the inevitable breakup happens Someone nice…like Black Canary maybe. I know, I know different coasts, but maybe someone could get you in touch, one of your business buddies.”

Bruce looked mortified.

“Perhaps Mr. Queen,” Diana supplied impishly. “He seems of a similar temperament and lifestyle from what I have heard.”

St. Cloud grinned, while Bruce’s face fell further.

“Do I look like I want an arrow through my skull?” Bruce muttered to himself.

“What was that Brucie?” St. Cloud asked.

“Nothing,” Bruce insisted.

“Or someone closer to home,” Diana said, helping Bruce out before deciding to repay an insult with another. “Batman perhaps.”

St. Cloud laughed uproariously.

“Oh I knew I’d like you,” She said. “They’d get along like a house on fire, trust me I’ve met them both plenty of times.”

“Really?” Diana said. “I cannot disclose too much League information of course, but it is hardly a secret that Batman is not exactly a partygoer.”

“Oh well…” St. Cloud said, waving her hand and suddenly seeminging very evasive . “You’d be surprised how…often jewelry gets stolen or you get taken hostage. And well, my financé had a few troubles…the Bat helped sort them out.”

“Perfect,” Diana said. “You can introduce them.”

St. Cloud, however, seemed to have tired of the conversation, or disliked the turn it had taken to Batman. She simply laughed nervously and excused herself to see some socialites from Metropolis she knew.

“Her fiancé?” Diana asked lowly, so no one could hear.

“Ex-Mob Hitman, tried to kill me,” Bruce supplied. “For me, not any of my special business ventures, but he got turned around a bunch, some of it by her. They’ve straightened each other out.”

“The diamonds?”

Bruce winced.

“Selina was a little jealous I think,” He admitted. Diana chuckled.

“Diana,” He said seriously. Locking his eyes with her. “I’m calling a truce on this little game you’ve been playing.”

“We,” Diana corrected. “Or did you or did you not just try to set me up with a lovely aniquitarian in the Washington area?”

“Fine, we,” He conceded. “It’s a threat to operational security. Even this conversation could be bugged.”

If he actually thought it was bugged he wouldn’t be saying so.

“You mean you’re losing,” Diana said with a smile.

“I’m serious about this Diana,” Bruce said, doing his best to convey seriousness despite his tuxedo. “This is a serious matter and we cannot allow it to compromise…”

“I understand completely,” Diana replied. “You want to cut your losses and run. Fine by me.”

…

“Sappho as a Lesbian” was not a book that was flying off of the shelves anywhere in the United States, nor anywhere for that matter. Readers expecting sexuality were sorely disappointed as it instead focused on Sappho’s role in the society of Lesbos, her exile, and the concept of national/local identity in Ancient Greece. It was an academic tome, and was well regarded in its field, making use of recently unearthed documents and novel perspectives. It was, perhaps most relevantly, the first work published under the name “Diana Prince.”

Which naturally merited a celebration.

Etta had arranged the whole thing, reserving a table at Olive’s a restaurant that Diana was just now realizing was different than Olive Garden. She set down her jacket besides Steve.

“Our guest of honor!” He said, kissing her on the cheek. “Who else is coming?”

“Maybe a few people from the League,” Diana mentioned quietly. “Out of costume of course.”

“Right,” Etta said. “Because your work friends are coming as well, even though I seem to recall the entire idea was not actually working a day job.”

“Well,” Diana said. “We are celebrating something I published for the job, it would be unfair not to invite them.”

“I know,” Etta said. “It’ll be nice to meet them, even if Steve already has the advantage.”

“Man I haven't seen Lawrence for too long,” Steve missed. “There was this one time in…and speak of the devil there he is!”

They waved Lawrence over, and he bore with him a little wrapped present.

“Lawrence!” She said. “You shouldn't have.”

“Alana chipped in don't worry,” Lawrence replied. “Besides its office tradition.”

“Will I have to participate?” Diana said, inspecting the wrapping, which featured happy puppies.

“Not unless someone new joins up,” Lawrence said. “For your second book it's just first dibs on the morning coffee.”

He immediately began reminiscing about old times with Steve, chatting about this and that old squadmate and what they were up to now.

Diana laughed, and kept her smile on as she beckoned in a familiar face from the door.

“Over here Clark!” She said.

Clark walked over, although he bumped into several tables along the way.

“I'm so glad you could make it,” She said, pulling him in for a quick hug. “No Lois?”

“I was in the area,” he said apologetically. “She wasn't.”

Diana thought she heard Etta mutter something under her breath, probably ‘thank god,’ which meant she knew Clark had heard it. She glared at Etta, who had the grace to look abashed.

“You know Clark Kent?” Steve asked, slightly befuddled.

“Colonel Trevor, good to see you again, and you must be Etta Candy?” He said shaking hands with Steve.

“Goodness Steve,” Etta said. “Do you know all of Diana's friends?”

“We've had interviewed a few times,” Clark supplied. “And me and my wife met Diana when she helped us with a European corruption story back in the day, we helped her with the move over.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at that, but seemed to accept the explanation.

“How does an antiquarian help a journalist with a corruption story?” Lawrence asked.

Diana and Clark were able to dodge having to elaborate on their hasty cover story by the arrival of Alana who was happy to greet everyone, although apologetic for being late.

“No worries, no worries,” Diana said.

“I think that's everyone right?” Etta asked. “Good, because I'm starving and–”

“Diana!” A voice called out from across the bar. “Diana Prince!’

Diana turned her head and was shocked to see Bruce Wayne. Well, Bruce Wayne with his hair slicked back, a mustache, a leather jacket, shades, and a match hanging out of his mouth. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

“I knew I recognized you!” He said. “Ya having a party or somthin’, I didn't miss ya birthday did I?”

Well he certainly wasn't playing Brucie. And he certainly wasn't playing Batman. Diana glanced over at Clark, who rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. So probably not brain damage then.

“Umm,” Etta said.

“And you are?” Steve asked helpfully, giving Bruce a chance to explain himself without Diana being the one to ask probing questions.

“Oh heh,” Bruce said. “Yeh must be the famous Steve Trevor, she talks a lot about ya!”

Steve looked rather pleased at that.

“Matches Malone,” Bruce said, shaking Steve's hand firmly. “I'm da super at Diana’s apartment building. We play checkers.”

So this was the famous Matches Malone. Normally a figure from the Gotham Underworld popping up in DC would have been odd, but knowing Bruce he'd probably been a regular at the bar for weeks just to set up this encounter.

“Really?” Lawrence asked.

“Every week,” Diana lied. “I usually win.”

“Not how I remember it,” ‘Matches’ chuckled. “Although I might have to letcha win next time if I missed yer birthday.”

“Just the publication of my book,” Diana said.

“Oh ya finally finished that didja?” Bruce said with a grin that seemed so genuine despite the disguise. “I'll have to check it out some time.”

No doubt Wayne Enterprises already had purchased several copies. He might have already read it even.

“Yes,” She said. “Finally out, some friends and I are just having a…what do you Americans say…night out to celebrate it.”

“Oh well Congratulations,” Bruce said, face falling just a tiny bit. “Sorry to interrupt, I'll be on my way.”

“No, no,” Diana insisted. Clearly this meant a lot for Bruce to come all this way and do this much. And it meant a lot for Diana that he was willing to show up and support her. “Have a seat, you are a friend as well, and there is an extra seat.”

There was little objection as Bruce sat at the table. Etta had ordered a bottle of wine, and with surprising grace poured out a glass for everyone at the table.

She raised her glass.

“To Diana Prince!”

“To Diana Prince.”