The man crashed into the table Bruce Wayne had stood beside, and he never flinched.
Diana only thought about that after Batman was gone.
Most of the people in the room had backed away as the men abseiled down, their matte black outfits sucking at the light, even as their weapons gleamed with the polished look of gunmetal. There'd been shrieks and squeals and futile protest as the men surrounded them, their weapons held threateningly at the guests. And Mr. Wayne had run - at least at first.
But as she tossed the Kaznian separatist away, she had glimpsed him by the food table, munching on something with a not-quite-so-silly grin on his face. And he hadn't flinched, hadn't ducked - had done nothing other than take a step to the side so the table and its contents shouldn't spatter his suit.
Vanity indeed, but more interestingly, nerves of steel.
Diana had heard a little about Bruce Wayne. He was a difficult man to avoid hearing of, whether listening to the radio, watching the news, or even glimpsing the tabloids as she walked down the street to get a better feel for Man's World and all it entailed.
Wally commented on Wayne's foibles - namely, his ability to date attractive women. Clark was more tactful regarding the man - much of the Watchtower had been provided through the research of Wayne Industries. John had little to say about the man other than that he built a solid component, Shayera couldn't care less. And Batman would only grunt when the billionaire's name came up and snap that he had no time for gossip.
Yet the man who had danced with Diana earlier tonight was...not quite what she would have expected of the man.
There was strength in those arms, grace in his motions, and intelligence in his conversation. Boldness in his approach to her, and humour in the gleam of his eyes as the man landed on the supper table.
A rare man of Man's World - as rare as any Diana had encountered in her travels with the League: John with his determination and solid reliability, Wally with his enthusiasm and lightning-swift mind, Clark with his honour and innocence, and Batman...
Batman whose city was Gotham, also home to Bruce Wayne.
Staring up at the ceiling, Diana's eyes narrowed.
Some of those people aren't always what they appear to be.
Surely not! It was too ridiculous to conceive. And yet...
And yet her mind could not dismiss what her instincts told her. Hard muscle beneath the dark suit, keen intelligence beneath the polite chit-chat, and titanium nerves in a human trained to cunning.
Two personalities so different that it would seem impossible to reconcile the two into one person.
Diana turned over in her bed, pulling the sheets with her. And so; she would observe and she would learn. And, whether Batman was also Bruce Wayne, or if the two truly were separate, Diana would be cultivating an interest in Bruce Wayne.