Author's note: Something a little different this time around. I'm trying out a challenge from a forum, and writing by the seat of my pants. I love a challenge, so if you have something in mind, throw it out there.

Bruce Wayne surveyed the function hall of his manor. The entire room was a sea of black suits belonging to the world's wealthiest and most influential people. However, while most people would give an arm, a leg, and a first-born son to be in this room, he mourned that his commitment to the event prevented him from policing the streets. However, it was a necessary sacrifice. The money that was raised tonight would hopefully be more than enough to build several orphanages and housing complexes for underprivileged children. If there was one thing that Bruce understood, it was proactivity. He knew that providing housing for troubled children would keep them off of the streets, lowering crime rates in the long run. So he resisted the immediate gratification of physically beating down drug dealers in favor of building up Gotham's future prospects.

The price was higher than he'd expected. Among his other profession, he was known as something of a stiff. But the crowd surrounding him could easily put Batman to shame. A vast majority were self-made billionaires- the dedication and savvy that allowed them to succeed in Gotham's cutthroat business climate was evident in every word that they spoke. The rest were cut from the same cloth that Bruce pretended to be- spoiled heirs from old money without a care in the world, only present to dump their parents' money into charities to satisfy their own egos. Neither group held any particular interest to Bruce, as far as socialization was concerned. He was sure that he could count on one hand the people in the room with truly altruistic intentions, and regretted the fact that he would be required to stick around to ensure cooperation from the rest.

As he lamented the wasted evening, he faked a sip from the champagne glass that he held in his hand. As he closed his mouth and inhaled through his nose, he caught a strange scent. It was far from unpleasant, and somehow vaguely familiar. He couldn't identify it clearly, but it was well defined. It smelled clean, and reminded him of lush jungles and spring rain. It cleaved through the heavy Gotham air, cutting a stark contrast against the filthy Gotham air that even Wayne Manor's top-grade air purifiers couldn't cleanse. His sense of smell was keen, but not enough to place the smell over the scent of the champagne pressed against his lips. He lowered the glass to take another whiff, but the source was identified before he could.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne." Bruce's peripheral vision was momentarily obscured by a large figure passing beside him. Before him stood an absurdly tall woman, nearly rivaling his own rather intimidating height. Despite his mental conditioning, his heart skipped a beat. She was extremely beautiful, with high, proud cheekbones, and deep blue eyes that always had a comforting, reassuring look in them. She was decked in a flowing blue gown that only served to make her eyes and her long, black hair seem even more vibrant. "I believe we met in Paris. Princess Audrey's party, if I recall correctly?"

"Of course, how could I forget the one and only Wonder Woman?" Bruce appreciated the sight of a familiar face, but was forced by his identity to act as a stranger going through formalities.

Wonder Woman seemed to find his stiff behavior amusing. "Please, my friends call me Diana." She gave him a knowing wink. "Especially when I'm not working."

"So, if you're not working, what brings you here?"

She laughed again. "What good is being a superhero and a diplomat if it doesn't get you into a party every now and then?" She absent-mindedly swirled her half-empty wine glass. "To be honest, I'd hoped that I'd made an impression. Evidently, I was mistaken?"

"Oh, don't think anything of it." Bruce laughed nervously. "Alfred handles the invitations and scheduling. I'd be useless without him, really." This was a half-truth; Alfred had mailed the invitations and done nearly all of the coordination for the event, but Bruce had overseen it. All of it. He'd put a great deal of stock into this banquet, and he didn't intend to leave anything to chance. And he definitely didn't remember seeing Diana's name on the list. At the moment, he wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he was quite happy to see Diana, especially in the midst of all of the drones that filled his home. On the other hand, Alfred had gone behind his back in inviting her and keeping the knowledge from him. But back to the first hand, had Alfred come to him first, he would have definitely come up with an excuse not to invite her. But he would have been right to do so. This was only a social event on the surface. The real issue was Gotham's future. But would the presence of a friendly face really hurt? At this point, the event itself was a formality. The funds had been all but secured. Actually, the presence of a respected figure like Diana might even encourage people to pledge more. Bruce made a mental note to finish examining the implications of the situation later. "You might want to slow down a little bit, there." He said, noticing Diana taking a large gulp from her wine glass. "Erm… How many drinks have you had tonight?"

"Oh, a few." Diana waved him off sounding supremely unconcerned. "Why? Are you worried about me?"

"It's nothing, never mind." Bruce couldn't help but notice that she seemed even more candid than usual; and she was straightforward at the best of times. She was responsible, though.

"So, care to dance?" She asked wryly, batting her eyes slightly.

Bruce's mind rushed. Time to make a decision. Again. He went through the motions again anyway.

I have enemies. Powerful enemies.

I'd like to see Two-face even try to touch her.

I don't have time. I have responsibilities.

So does she. And she's probably the only person patient enough to tolerate your stupid obsessions.

It's a distraction.

It'll be a fun distraction.

I can't. She deserves better.

She does, but she wants you. You're just afraid. You can't control her, and that scares the hell out of you. In the end, you have the perfect woman, and you're about to bow out because you're afraid of commitment?

There was the root of it. Like always. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I have a speech to give. I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check. I mean, if that's alright with you?"

"Oh, of course." Diana knew what that meant. Rejection. She'd hoped that catching him off-guard and out of the suit might yield some different results, but evidently she'd been wrong. "Good luck with that. You know where to find me."

A/N: An abrupt cutoff, but I wanted to post what I have. The rest is almost finished, but I thought I'd leave a bit of a sneak peek.