A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I used the Michael Bublé version of this song - I just think he sings it so beautifully, and it makes me cry every time I listen to it. It just screams Bruce to me. Another round of applause for Daisy Jane too! Enjoy!

You Don't Know Me

"Mr. Wayne, I believe you've met our guest of honor?"

You give your hand to me

Then you say hello

I can hardly speak

My heart is beating so

And anyone can tell

You think you know me well

But you don't know me

My heart leaps, but I don't show it. It's easy now to hide - I've long given up trying to stop the jump in my pulse. We've been around each other for years, and it still happens every time she steps into the room.

I turn with the normal grin plastered on my face. "On occasion." I extend my hand; Wonder Woman shakes it politely.

"How are you, Mr. Wayne?"

"Can't complain. And your wonderful self?" I wink.

And anyone can tell

You think you know me well

But you don't know me

If she only knew how true that was. Of course the fact that she's totally unaware of it is the exact reason she is so perfect. Forget the powers. Throw the super strength overboard, the flight out of the window. She doesn't need any of them. She just needs what makes her Diana. The ready smile, the innate kindness, the complete lack of selfish impulse. She is Wonder Woman. She would still be Wonder Woman without the uniform.

She takes her hand from mine. I miss its warmth immediately. "I'm well, thank you."

No you don't know the one

Who dreams of you at night

And longs to kiss your lips

And longs to hold you tight

Her voice is coolly formal. We don't have a relationship outside of functions like this. Bruce Wayne and Diana of Themyscira have met no more than half a dozen times, know almost nothing of the other. And the worst thing is that's true.

She doesn't know me, and we don't have a relationship outside of here and now.

Oh, I'm just a friend

That's all I've ever been

'Cause you don't know me

We used to. We used to be friends, we used to allow the other to see inside us. I let her see more of me than anyone before her had, just because I was curious. At which point would the light in her decide it couldn't handle the shadow in me? When would she turn away in disgust from what I am? Or, worse, would be run away? Would I be the only one to make her cower in fear?

I wasn't. Instead she looked deeper and she found more than I bargained for.

For I never knew

The art of making love

Though my heart aches

With love for you

The familiar words slip from my tongue. "Enjoying yourself so far?"

It started as a game. The same words, the same responses. Testing and teasing one another. But it has been a long time since it was a game, and now the words taste bitter on my tongue. It's no longer a game. It's a parody. Bathos. The reason for that is chatting with Rebecca Saunders, the organizer of this event. Thomas Andrew Tresser. Nemesis. Vigilante turned government agent.

Diana's fiancé.

Afraid and shy

I let my chance go by

The chance that you might love me too

It's not his fault Diana and I aren't together. It's mine. Because when she looked, and found something she actually wanted... I ran. She turned to me on a rooftop, extended an offer. Not much, just a date. I backed off. I panicked and gave her excuses why we couldn't be together without the reason. The reason being... sooner or later she would find something she was repulsed by. And if she was mine, I would lose her to myself.

So instead I chose to lose her to Tom Tresser.

You give your hand to me

And then you say goodbye

I watch you walk away

Beside the lucky guy

The wedding day is only a few weeks away now. I notice, through the pounding of my own heart, that the strings have started up. This could be - probably will be - the last time I ever hold her in my arms.

So I take her hand again. "Dance?"

It's more the Bat than anything, and to anyone watching it would have revealed us to be dangerously intimate. She looks at me strangely, but does as I ask. Allows me to pull her onto the dance floor, and then we dance. It's a very slow song, for which I am grateful. It allows me to hold her close, breathe in her scent and pretend that she still knows me. Pretend that I took that opportunity on the roof, or the second of that night on the Watchtower. Pretend that I told her long ago how in love with her I am.

I didn't. I was too afraid.

You'll never know

The one who loves you so

Well you don't know me

So now we arrive at this moment. This moment, two complete strangers dancing. I would dearly love it if her current relationship was a rebound. If the wounds I inflicted on her heart had caused her to run into his embrace. But that would be a lie. There was nothing violent about the way our almost-relationship ended. She simply... moved on.

This moment is all I have - and it is fake. It ends all too soon. Her husband-to-be cuts in, and I surrender her hand to him with a charming, debonair gesture. Because I've seen the smile on Diana's face. It's not a smile she's ever directed at me.

You give your hand to me, baby

Then you say goodbye

I watch you walk away

Beside the lucky guy

Now she's in love, and she's at peace. She's comfortable. More than all that - she's happy. So I let her go. Watch her walk away with the luckiest guy in the world. Someone should really tell him that. It won't be me - I don't deserve that right.

Diana deserves someone she knows inside and out.

No, no, you'll never know

The one who loves you so

Well, you don't know me

And that's not me.

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A/N: Well I did warn you it would be angsty. Review please!