Wardrobe change

“I do want to talk. But honestly I’m not sure I can have a serious conversation with those glasses. Besides it was Wonder Woman that agreed to go out with me, not Diana Prince. So if it’s all the same to you…” you wave your hand in a Go Ahead gesture.

Diana rolls her eyes. “If that’s what you want,” she says, her voice dripping with contempt. She removes her glasses with one hand and with the other produces her golden lasso from somewhere. She forms a loop with the lasso and starts spinning it over her head. She lowers the loop down her body until it’s spinning just above the floor, then reverses and brings the revolving rope circle back upwards – but as the looped lasso rises, her green dress and sensible shoes disappear to be replaced by red boots, blue shorts with white stars, and a red and gold bustier. She sweeps the lasso up over her head revealing Wonder Woman in full costume: tiara on her head, black hair falling freely, bracelets on her wrists.

“Neat trick,” you say, trying not to sound overly impressed, even tho you are.

“Is this more to your liking?” she asks in a mocking tone.

“Much. What the point of dating a superhero if no one knows it?”

“We’re not dating,” she declares, exasperation in her voice. “We’re going on a date. One.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

The beautiful Amazon doesn’t seem to appreciate your Han Solo impression; she turns her regal glare on you, and you remind yourself that you are taunting one of the most powerful beings on the planet, one who has a legitimate axe to grind with you. Also a legitimate axe. And the only thing keeping you safe at this moment is an oath sworn on a magic rope. You are acutely aware of just how out of your league you’re playing, and a not-insignificant part of your brain wants to apologize and run away while you still can.

But you’re used to punching out of your weight class! You remind yourself you’ve already had this bitch at your mercy once and you’ll be damned if you’re going to flinch. You hold her gaze and after a long moment, you see something pass behind her deep blue eyes. Perhaps a shadow of her previous helplessness at your hands? She doesn’t flinch per se, but she does blink and look away.

“Shall we be off? I assume you have a car?”