Diana recovers... and learns the position she has been put in.

"Diana," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "What is Superman's real name?"

"Kal-El."

I suppressed annoyance. "His secret identity. What is Superman's secret identity."

"Clark Kent." The software's levels jumped as they recorded her voice.

I had no idea who that was. "Where does he live?"

"344 Clinton Street," she said quietly. "Apartment 3-B. Metropolis."

"You said he was married. Who is his wife?"

"Lois Lane."

Okay, I'd heard of her. "All right. What is the Batman's secret identity?"

"Bruce Wayne."

The billionaire? Jesus -- next she was going to tell me Elon Musk was the Green Arrow. "Where does he live?"

We did this for almost a half hour. I asked about her friends in the Justice League. The Teen Titans. Anyone I could think of. I asked for details about their personal lives -- the sorts of things they would only tell their closest confidents. We continued until she fell back into sleep.

I stared at her, as she breathed in and out, and then I saved the file. The file with the Justice League's lives on it. My ears were pounding with blood. I was terrified Batman would burst in right then and beat me senseless. Or any of her other friends.

But they didn't. It gave me a chance to encrypt the file, and take a few steps with it. And then I began to write.

It was ten hours later before she spoke next. "Where am I?" she asked. Her voice was strong. Powerful.

"You're in my apartment," I said, standing and walking around to where she was.

Her muscles were tense. "What have you done to me," she asked. Demanded, really.

"I pulled you out after Poison Ivy poisoned you. Brought you here."

"And tied me up?"

"Whoa -- whoa whoa whoa. Hold on." I leaned close, picking up the loose end of the rope, and wrapped it around my hand where she could see. I'd experimented while she'd slept, and I knew it would compel the truth out of me. "You asked me to tie you up -- you were delirious, a threat to yourself and others, and you thought the lasso would keep you sedate because it would anchor you to the truth."

There was a long pause, and she relaxed, a slight smile on her face. "Apparently it worked," she said. "What is your name?"

I let go of the rope, standing back up. "Tom Dorsey," I said. "No relation to the musician."

She smiled a bit. It made me feel like a heel for a second, seeing that smile. "You seem to have done me a service, Thomas." She smiled a bit more. "Though I think you can untie me now."

I bit my lip. "Not... quite yet," I said. "We have some business first."

She arched an eyebrow, her bearing shifting. She was no fool, of course. "Go on," she said.

"It's about some friends of yours," I said, struggling to keep my voice from shaking or cracking.

"What friends?" That was ice.

I looked at her. "Clark Kent," I said.

Her eyes went wide.

"Bruce Wayne," I continued. "Oliver Queen. Dinah Lance." I paused a long moment. "Donna Troy."

Her expression shifted. It became steel. I knew she was still feeling like Hell, but in that second she was all Wonder Woman.

"You're about to attack me?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. The lasso compelled truth, remember.

"Hold off a moment, and let's talk. I have no intention of using that information against your friends... unless I have to."

Her muscles were coiled. "I'm listening," she said.

"Okay." I paused. "How long would it take for you to escape those ropes before attacking me."

"I wouldn't bother," she said. "I can fly. I'd throw myself at you with the speed of Hermes and slam you into a wall. Then I could work out the knots while you bled." Her voice was cold. And of course, she spoke the truth.

"...of course," I said. "But it wouldn't help." I clicked a button on my laptop, and Diana's voice could be heard, softly betraying the secrets of her closest associates.

She stared at me. "You questioned me while I fought off the illness," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "And the recording's been uploaded... well, elsewhere. If something happens to me, it'll be automatically posted... well, lots of places. Everyone will hear, and learn the Justice League's secret identities." I looked at her. "So killing me wouldn't do any good. In fact, you couldn't even force me to disable the podcasts quickly enough. Or even use the lasso to force me to tell you how to do it. There's not a lot of time, Diana."

"What do you want," she asked.

"I want you."

She paused for a long moment. "This is about sex?"

"Yes."

"You apparently saved my life. Why would you think you had to compel me to have sex with you?"

"Because I'm not looking for a gratitude fuck," I said. The word hung in the room like an odor. It wasn't the kind of thing you said to Diana of Themyscira. "I want something more."

"Something more," she said, with a certain disgust. "And you're willing to use extortion to get it."

"Apparently so."

"What do you have in mind?"

I picked up a piece of paper, with the printed oath on it. I set it where she could read it, then stepped back to my computer.

She read it, and her eyes went wide. "You can't be serious," she half-whispered.

"I am."

"I... you can't ask me to swear this oath."

"But I am." I poised my finger over a key. "Either you swear that oath, exactly as it's written -- and swear it by the River Styx -- or I'll push this button and the Justice League's secrets will be revealed to the world."

"And you will suffer horribly immediately afterward," she snapped. "Do you have any idea what I will do to you if you release that information?"

"Some," I said. "But to do that, you'd have to be willing to sacrifice their secrets for your body. Are you willing to make them sacrifice for you, Diana?"

"No," she said, then frowned. "Damn it. I forgot--"

"That the lasso means you can't bluff. Are you going to swear this oath, exactly as written, by the River Styx?"

"Yes," she said, defiantly. No long pause -- she had to tell the truth, and I already knew she'd sacrifice herself for her friends and loved ones.

"Then do so."