Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
I don't own DC, but if I did there would be a New "New 52!".
From the day we first met, Diana's presence has always had an impact on me. I am not exactly sure what it is. Beauty, grace, intelligence, wisdom, kindness and a warrior spirit all rolled into one. She is Wonder Woman for a reason. Yet, even with all those qualities, there is something else; something I can't put my finger on. All I know is that when I see her, it hits me like a sledgehammer. My mind and body are jolted and I have to consciously pull myself together.
I absolutely hate it.
Even if it is for only a second or two, Diana causes me to lose control. I'm Batman. I don't lose control. Ever. It just doesn't happen. I've trained myself to the point where I can perform a dozen acrobatic maneuvers in a hail of gun fire without a change to my heart rate or respiration. She walks into a room and I can actually feel my heart skip a beat. Sometimes I forget to breathe. At first, I chalked it up to a simple hormonal reaction or pheromones. She is incredibly, stunningly beautiful, and despite my external persona as Bruce Wayne, I get less action than most monks. The resulting male reaction is inevitable and manageable with a good supply of cold showers. That doesn't bother me. It's what she does to my head that concerns me. She is the only person on the planet that can cause me to lose focus by simply speaking.
Over time, I have discarded my initial hypothesis. I've actually done the labs. It's not a hormonal or chemical reaction. Subsequently, I considered that it might be a by-product of her Meta abilities. Hard to test without her knowledge, but not impossible. I was able to slip some extra tests into the League annual physicals. The results were... disappointing. From that perspective, the only Leaguer scoring above the norm was Wally. That was a surprising result. Basically, if he'd stop trying so hard, his love life would improve dramatically.
Now, a year has gone by. Instead of fading away, the effect is only getting worse. I am left with two possibilities.
Although I am loathe to admit it, it is entirely possible it could be magical in nature. She claims to have been "blessed" by her gods, including Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. I don't believe they are actually gods; it's more likely that they are Metas or advanced magic users. I am definitely with Clark on this... I hate magic. It's unpredictable and irrational. If that is actually the cause, it is going to be difficult to deal with.
The final possibility is the least likely, and one which I rejected almost immediately from the start, because frankly, it terrifies me. In my lifetime, I have loved and lusted over more than a few women. On one rare occasion when I was younger, I have lost myself entirely to a woman. This doesn't remotely feel like any of those times. No woman has ever had that effect on me, not even Selena. I don't want or need the complication that would bring to my life, especially with her. I can feel myself change; every year, my soul gets a little darker. The last thing I'll ever do is let that corrupt the light inside her.
In either case, I am not going to solve this mystery without more data. I've decided to get to the bottom of this one way or another. So, it's time to get to tackle the problem at its source. The timing is perfect. The rest of the League is away, enjoying their Christmas holiday. For her, the holiday has no meaning, so she offered to cover monitor duty for everyone, myself included. Today is Christmas Eve; while "normal" crime may be on the rise, the kind of criminals we deal with virtually disappear. It should be quiet until the New Year.
As I walk down the corridor toward the monitor room, I automatically avoid the "squeak plates" I've installed in the floor. The door recognizes my suit and shifts to quiet mode before gliding open. There is really no reason to mask my approach. I do it to hone my skills. Even with her Meta enhanced hearing, she won't hear me coming. No one ever does. In this case, I am just hoping to see her and control my reaction, just once.
She's on the opposite side of the room partially facing away from me. Christmas music is playing overhead. Hmmm... Dean Martin's "Marshmallow World". One of my own favorites..."...take a walk with your favorite girl...". Her hips sway as she sings along, trying to match the lyrics. She is dancing around a Christmas tree that John and Shayera set up, looking for a spot to place some sort of ornament she is holding. The pure innocence and joy in her face is astounding to see. Wham! There it is. Sledgehammer! Not only do I feel my heartbeat and respiration increase at least five percent, but I start to smile along with her. No, stop that! The Batman does not smile.
Finally! Got that under control. Now, just take a moment and focus on something else. Don't look at her smile. Instead, focus on the ridiculous holiday pajamas bottoms, loose tee shirt and fuzzy slippers she's wearing. That's better. Basic blue cotton printed with Santa and reindeer. Covers way more skin than her costume, yet, somehow... somehow she even manages to make that look sexy. The way the bottoms ride low on her hips and frame her derrière like a second skin. The tee shirt is short and exposes a perfectly toned midriff, and crap! No bra. Of course, she thinks she's alone, so why would she? Even without the support, absolute perfection. Full, perky, luscious...
Shit! Get your head on straight, Wayne. It doesn't matter that physically she may be the most desirable woman you've ever met. You have too much respect for her to treat her solely on looks. She gets enough of that from every other male she meets. Well, every other male except Clark... effin' Boy Scout. How does he do that? It has got to be his Kryptonian heritage. No normal human male has that much control.
Okay, thinking about Clark is almost as good as a cold shower. The uniform is loose again. One deep breath in. Slowly exhale while you center yourself. Step further into the room. Make some noise so her subconscious realizes someone is in the room with her. Not a good idea to totally surprise an Amazon warrior that can trade punches with Superman.
"Merry Christmas, Princess." Crap! Am I smiling again? How does she do that to me?