Date: Saturday, June 11th, 2011, 11:40 pm
Location: Metropolis
Diana's (Wonder Woman's) POV
The word date hung in the air between us, a perfectly weighted pebble dropped into the still pond of the grand ballroom. Lex Luthor, a man I had assessed as a formidable intellect and a significant force in this world, had just uttered it with a disarming ease that belied the razor edge of his mind. My thoughts, usually a fortress of calm, whirred, processing the audacious proposal. The low thrum of the orchestra, the clink of crystal, the distant murmur of conversation – all faded to a muffled backdrop.
I had come to this gathering, as I often did, to observe. To understand the currents of this new world, to gauge the hearts of its leaders, and to seek out those who might either threaten or aid humanity. Lex Luthor... he was a figure of undeniable influence. His recent philanthropic endeavors, including this very orphanage initiative, had been widely celebrated. He was a visionary, a man who, by all public accounts, was actively working to improve the world. Yet, when his eyes met mine, they held a dangerous, calculating light that hinted at depths far beyond public perception. Beneath the expensive cologne and tailored silk, I sensed something primal, boundless, and utterly untamed.
His revelation of Themyscira had been a shock, a swift, precise strike at my carefully constructed anonymity. My homeland, its very existence a sacred secret, spoken aloud in a crowded Metropolis ballroom. It was an act of profound intrusion, yet delivered with the practiced charm of a sophisticated man. He hadn't boasted or threatened, but merely presented it as a simple fact. And the way he had connected it to my "divine parentage" and "significant footprint" – it spoke of a mind that not only gathered data but synthesized it, seeking out the hidden, powerful patterns.
My immediate instinct, honed by a lifetime of training and the sun-baked dust of Themyscira, was to dissect his game. He hadn't posed a direct threat, not yet. Only an unnerving invitation to a contest I hadn't agreed to play, from a man whose public aura as a benefactor of humanity felt almost too perfectly polished.
His hand remained extended, an open palm that felt more like a confident summons than a gauntlet. "An exchange of insights," he'd offered first, cloaking his intentions in intellectual curiosity. Then, the almost imperceptible shift in his posture, the lowering of his voice, the direct, intense stare – all leading to that final, provocative word. Date. He wasn't simply asking for a private conversation; he was challenging me, asserting a level of intimacy and control that I found both presumptuous and, unsettlingly, intriguing.
He was testing me. Testing my reaction to the exposure of my secret, to his audacious proposition. And I, Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolyta, did not shy from a challenge.
The ballroom continued its low murmur around us, a comfortable backdrop to the sudden, stark silence that had fallen between us. I considered his words, his posture, the glint in his sharp eyes. There was no fear in him, only a boundless confidence. He saw me not just as an Amazon, or a demigod, but as someone with whom he could engage on an intellectual battlefield, perhaps even a personal one.
"A date, Mr. Luthor?" I finally said, my voice carefully neutral, betraying none of the turmoil within. I let my gaze sweep over him, mimicking his earlier appraisal, though mine was far less appreciative and far more analytical. He was undeniably a handsome man, with a sharp, intelligent face and a physique that spoke of discipline. But it was the cold fire in his eyes that truly held my attention.
"Indeed, Ms. Prince," he affirmed, a subtle tightening at the corners of his mouth. "A private setting where two individuals, uniquely positioned to understand the complexities of this world, might engage in a truly candid discussion. Free from the constraints of public persona and prying eyes."
"And what precisely would be the nature of this 'candid discussion'?" I pressed, my voice a silken steel. "Do you intend to reveal all your 'knowledge' of my 'timeless grace' and 'divine parentage' in a single evening, Mr. Luthor? Or is there more to this 'exchange of insights' than meets the eye?"
A low, resonant sound, almost a purr of amusement, vibrated through the air between us. "Ah, Diana. Always cutting to the heart of the matter. I admire that. Such directness is… refreshing. Far more efficient than the typical societal dances, wouldn't you agree?" His gaze lingered on my eyes, then dropped almost imperceptibly to my lips. "My insights, I assure you, are quite extensive. And I am prepared to share them, for the right price."
"And what price would that be?" I asked, my brow subtly furrowing. The shift in his tone, the subtle intensity of his gaze, was unmistakable. He wasn't just talking about information.
"The price," he mused, taking another slow, deliberate step closer, the faint scent of his expensive cologne reaching me. "Is the opportunity to truly connect. To understand the woman behind the legend. To unravel the mysteries that make you, Diana Prince, such a captivating enigma." His voice dropped, becoming a low, intimate murmur. "To explore the depths of that 'unreadable depth' you possess. And perhaps, to discover if our ambitions, our desires, our very essences, might align in ways neither of us could have anticipated."
My instincts screamed caution. This was not merely an intellectual challenge. This was an attempt to penetrate my defenses on a far more personal level. He was trying to charm me, to disarm me with flattery and a thinly veiled desire that felt almost... primal.
"My 'essence' is not for exploration, Mr. Luthor," I stated, my voice firm, though I maintained my neutral expression. "And my ambitions are solely for the betterment of humanity. I strive for peace, for understanding. How do your 'desires' align with such goals?"
His smile didn't falter. "Ah, 'peace and understanding.' Noble aims, Diana. But is it not, the overlap of motivations, even disparate ones, that often leads to the most potent results? Imagine what two minds like ours could achieve, working in concert. Imagine the power." He paused, his eyes gleaming with a possessive light. "And imagine the satisfaction of sharing that power, that understanding, with someone truly… worthy of it."
His words painted a picture, tempting and dangerous. The promise of shared power, of a partner who could truly understand the weight of my responsibilities, was a seductive lure. But the source of that lure was a man whose motives, despite his public image, remained profoundly unclear.
"You speak of power and understanding," I countered, my gaze unwavering. "But I hear another subtext, Mr. Luthor. A personal one."
A genuine sound escaped him this time, a soft, rich baritone, devoid of the earlier calculation. "Clever. Always clever, Diana. And you are not wrong." His eyes locked onto mine, a magnetic pull. "Yes, I desire to share ideas with you. To engage with a mind as formidable as yours. To discuss the future, the threats, and the opportunities. But I would be a lesser man, and a liar, if I did not also admit to a profound fascination with you, Diana Prince. A desire to know you, beyond the whispers and the legends. To see what lies beneath that magnificent composure." His gaze softened, just slightly, though the intensity remained. "You are a woman of immense beauty, formidable intellect, and an almost mythical aura. To deny a natural human inclination towards such a magnificent being would be... an insult to nature, wouldn't you agree?"
I looked from his face to his extended hand. Accepting it would be an acknowledgment, a step into his carefully laid trap. Rejecting it would be to dismiss a source of potentially vital information. Neither felt entirely satisfactory.
He watched me, patient, but with an intensity that bordered on predatory. He knew he held a secret I had painstakingly guarded for years. But I had faced greater challenges than a cunning mortal with a vast network.
Taking a 'date' with Lex Luthor was a risk. But then, so was living in Man's World. And sometimes, to truly understand the nature of a powerful, enigmatic figure, one must engage directly.
"Very well, Mr. Luthor," I said, my voice firm, allowing no trace of hesitation. I did not take his hand, but instead took a deliberate step back, indicating my terms. "A private conversation, then. But let us be clear: it is an exchange of information, nothing more. And it will be on my terms."
A brief, almost imperceptible flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by his confident smile. He hadn't expected me to dictate. Good.
"As you wish, Diana," he said, accepting my stipulation with a nod. "I look forward to our 'exchange.' When would you be available?"
I considered. Tonight, I needed to process this new dynamic. "Tomorrow," I stated, clearly. "Mid-morning. Send me the details of your preferred location."
A low, satisfied rumble vibrated in his chest. "Charming. I'll have Mercy send you an invitation with the precise coordinates. I trust you'll find the venue... illuminating." A triumphant glint kindled deep within his eyes. He had secured the meeting, a mere prologue to the grander play he envisioned.
But I knew a battle was never won until the final blow. I simply nodded, turning away from him and walking towards the nearest exit, leaving him standing amidst the glittering crowd. My mind was already strategizing, preparing for the actual confrontation that awaited me tomorrow. Lex Luthor had sought to disarm me with a word. I intended to unravel his true design.
My POV
She had walked away, a silent, powerful dismissal, leaving me with the lingering scent of something ancient and wild, like sun-warmed earth after a storm. A minor victory, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless. She had agreed to the meeting, on her terms, of course. But that was merely a preamble. The real negotiation, the true seduction, began now.
My eyes swept over the remaining guests. The buzz of speculation, though quieter, still hung in the air from our brief, intense exchange. They had seen it, the subtle shift in Diana Prince's polished composure. The whispers had already begun, a delicious hum.
Excellent. Confusion was a powerful weapon, disarming those who sought to categorize and contain me.
A slow, classical waltz began to drift from the orchestra, a soft, inviting melody that seemed to beckon. Perfect. I moved with a renewed sense of purpose, cutting a path through the remaining clusters of guests until I was just a few feet behind Diana. She stood by the arched entrance to the terrace, seemingly contemplating the city lights, her back to me.
"A beautiful night for a dance, wouldn't you agree, Ms. Prince?" I murmured, my voice pitched low enough to carry only to her, a silken thread weaving through the ambient sounds.
She stiffened, her shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly. She turned slowly, her eyes, still cool and guarded, meeting mine. "I believe we have concluded our business for the evening, Mr. Luthor."
"Have we?" I countered, taking a single, measured step closer. "Or have we merely set the stage for tomorrow's 'exchange of information'? Besides, even the most formidable individuals occasionally indulge in the simpler pleasures. And I confess, I find myself rather eager for the pleasure of this particular dance." I extended my hand, palm up, an open invitation. "Care to risk a turn about the floor with the city's most talked-about philanthropist?"
I saw the flicker in her eyes, the familiar internal debate. The Amazonian discipline warring with the human desire to refuse a challenge. Her lips parted, no doubt to deliver a polite, firm rejection.
But then, the soft strains of the waltz swelled, the music's gentle rhythm seeming to fill the space between us. For a fleeting moment, her gaze drifted to the shimmering dance floor, then back to my outstretched hand. The defiance in her posture softened, almost imperceptibly.
"Very well, Mr. Luthor," she conceded, her voice a shade less rigid than before, a subtle current beneath its surface. To my satisfaction, she finally laid her hand in mine. Her skin was warm, firm, and radiated an unexpected strength, a fascinating contrast to the delicate lines of her dress.
As I led her onto the dance floor, the subtle friction of her fingers against mine a current, I felt the collective shift in attention. Heads turned. Conversations died down to hushed whispers. All eyes were on us. I could feel the electricity of their curiosity, their speculation. It was a potent fuel.
"I imagine this is quite the spectacle for our esteemed guests," I remarked, a faint smile playing on my lips as I guided her into the first graceful turn. "The city's most eligible bachelor, dancing with its most intriguing mystery. The gossip columnists will have a field day."
Diana followed my lead with an inherent grace, her movements fluid and precise, as if she had been waltzing for centuries. "You seem quite adept at creating spectacle, Mr. Luthor. Is it a necessary component of your 'philanthropy'?"
"A happy byproduct, perhaps," I countered smoothly, pulling her closer as we transitioned into a more complex step, my gaze assessing her subtle reaction. "Though one must admit, a little dramatic flair does wonders for awareness. And for attracting the right kind of… attention." My gaze lingered on her, assessing her reaction. "You, for instance, are quite skilled at attracting attention without any apparent effort at all. It's truly remarkable."
"It is merely how I am," she stated, her voice even, though a subtle tightening around her eyes suggested she was weighing my words. "I do not seek it."
"Perhaps not," I mused, guiding her into a slow spin, her silk dress rustling faintly. "But you command it. Like a rare artifact, or a force of nature. And I confess, Diana, I find such natural power… endlessly captivating. More so than any meticulously crafted public image." I let my gaze drop to her lips for a fraction of a second, then back to her eyes. "One wonders what other natural wonders you possess that the world is yet to discover."
A faint, almost imperceptible tremor went through her, a ripple beneath her composure. "You are bold, Mr. Luthor. Some might say imprudent, to speak so freely."
"Only among those who can truly appreciate candor, Diana," I replied, my voice a low murmur meant only for her. "And I believe you, of all people, understand the value of raw truth. After all, you hail from a land where veiled words would lead to a swift and efficient lesson, wouldn't they?"
She stiffened slightly at the direct reference to Themyscira, but surprisingly, a faint, fleeting smile touched her lips. "Lessons are rarely 'brutal' when delivered with purpose, Mr. Luthor. Only efficient."
"Efficient," I repeated, turning her with a fluid motion. "I like that. Efficiency is a quality I prize above all others. So, tell me, Diana, from your unique vantage point, what inefficiencies do you perceive in our modern world? And how would Amazon correct them?"
She considered this, her brow furrowing in genuine thought. "There is much wasted energy. Much conflict is born of misunderstanding, and a persistent drive for domination rather than cooperation. Humans could achieve so much more if they ceased fighting amongst themselves."
"Noble sentiments," I acknowledged, guiding her back into a closer hold, feeling the strength in her back. "But perhaps, Diana, that very drive for 'domination' is simply a primal, efficient expression of power. A means to an end. And who better to guide that power, to wield it in a truly efficient way, than someone who truly understands its nature?" My voice dropped to a near whisper, a seductive rumble that sought to bypass her intellect and resonate deeper. "Perhaps, you and I, we could correct some of those 'inefficiencies' together."
She looked up at me, her eyes unreadable, but then, a slight, genuine head tilt. A small, almost involuntary sound escaped her lips – a soft, unexpected chuckle, a fragile chime in the formal ballroom. It was a tiny crack in the Amazonian fortress, and it sent a thrill of satisfaction, sharp as fine wine, through me.
"You are a remarkably… persuasive man, Mr. Luthor," she said, her voice still low, but with a new, faint warmth to it. "Even when speaking of such… ruthless ambition."
"Ruthless ambition, or pragmatic foresight?" I countered, my smile now truly triumphant. I had breached her defenses, if only for a moment. "Perhaps, Diana, we can discuss the distinctions further tomorrow. In a setting more conducive to truly 'efficient' conversation."
The music began its slow fade, signaling the end of the waltz. I led her to the edge of the dance floor, my touch lingering as I released her hand, feeling the echo of her strength. The crowd seemed to collectively exhale, their murmurs resuming, now laced with renewed fervor. She looked at me, a complex mixture of curiosity, wariness, and perhaps, a flicker of something resembling grudging respect.
She had chuckled. A tiny crack in the Amazonian fortress. He felt a potent surge of satisfaction, knowing the true seduction had just begun. It was, indeed, merely a start—the first whisper in a symphony he intended to conduct.