"That's an odd analogy."
Diana emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She glanced at Adrian, a playful gleam in her eyes. "I can take that as you feeling comfortable enough to make jokes that would annoy most women, now that we're… closer."
She stepped forward, arms sliding around Adrian's neck, her lips brushing near his. "But I'm not just any woman."
Her fingers traced lightly over his lips, eyes smoldering with intent. "Do you know what I'm thinking right now?"
"What?"
"How about a sparring match?"
Still holding him, Diana's proposal carried a mix of challenge and allure.
Adrian tilted his head. "So, you're not satisfied with last night's battle and want to continue?"
"Of course," she replied with a grin. "Amazon women revere combat in all forms."
Diana rubbed her hands together, anticipation shining in her gaze.
"You won't be my opponent, Diana," Adrian said calmly, assessing her. Her skills were formidable, but today, she wasn't a match.
"Oh really? How will you know until you try? Maybe I'll even beat you again!" Diana's confidence radiated from her every movement.
Adrian studied her, noting the subtle shift from her battle-hardened posture to one infused with femininity and grace. "Very well. I look forward to it."
---
Smallville sprawled before them. Open fields and gentle hills stretched across the horizon. Wonder Woman, fully armored, surveyed the surroundings.
"Is this where you grew up?" she asked.
"Yes. Always a small-town farm boy," Adrian replied, eyes on the Amazon warrior standing before him.
"You understand yourself well, Adrian. You know you're human, not some alien or elevated being." Diana's tone was almost approving. "Many with your power might struggle with identity. Humans are fragile… yet you've always considered yourself one of them."
Adrian's gaze followed the rising sun. "Diana, you're not here to lecture me on humanity, are you?"
"Not at all!" Diana said, her focus sharpened by the thrill of combat. Without weapons, she launched herself at him, fist first.
Adrian blocked her punch, twisting to absorb the force of her second strike, then moved behind her, landing an elbow on her back. Diana rolled with the impact, unharmed in spirit.
Bang! Adrian's punch struck her chest as she rose, and though she blocked most of the blow, the force knocked her back a few steps.
Diana landed gracefully, her expression resolute. "Ugh!" she roared, rushing him again. Fists collided in a storm of rapid blows, each strike creating sharp cracks in the air.
Adrian engaged closely, trading strike for strike, testing her reflexes. After dozens of exchanges, her speed couldn't match his. A solid hit staggered her backward.
Clap! Another collision, heavier this time. Diana's high kick struck his arms, sending tingles up to his shoulders. He countered with a spinning back kick, but Diana, anticipating the motion, shrank her stance and absorbed the blow, using both hands to clamp his leg. She attempted a shoulder ram takedown, aiming to pin him.
Adrian reacted instantly, whipping his restrained arm inward, generating a burst of force. He rotated, breaking free, and pinned her to the ground, bodies pressing close.
"The victor has been decided, Diana," Adrian said, pressing her wrists lightly, studying the fierce Amazon beneath him. Her black hair fanned across the grass, the morning sun outlining her stunning face, a mixture of strength and allure.
"You won't be my opponent on any battlefield," Adrian declared.
Diana rose, eyes burning. "Don't think I give up easily. Let's go again!"
"As you wish," Adrian replied, unconcerned. The sparring would continue as long as she demanded.
---
Later that night, Star City.
A woman with long golden hair, clad in a tactical suit with fishnet details, fought fiercely in a narrow alley. Robbers fleeing from a jewelry heist brandished daggers and guns, but none could match her speed.
A burly man drew his gun, only to have it kicked from his hand. Before he could react, a punch smashed his nose, spraying blood across the alley. Fear replaced aggression, and the robbers hesitated.
The golden-haired woman moved like a predator, striking with precision, clearing the alley swiftly. The remaining criminals tried to regroup, but her movements were too fast, too exact, and they scattered.
Clapping her hands, satisfaction clear on her face, she muttered, "Do you know the government has an entire theory about why someone wears fishnet stockings?"
A voice called from above.
The woman's gaze snapped upward, spotting two dark silhouettes on a rooftop, observing silently. Moonlight revealed a man and a woman, barely distinguishable.
"You're Black Canary, right?" the female voice called.
The golden-haired woman's eyes narrowed. "I am Black Canary. Who are you?"
Dinah Laurel Lance, inheritor of her mother's legacy, had dedicated herself to fighting crime, mastering martial arts and tactical combat. Her presence demanded respect, but she remained cautious.
The girl on the rooftop didn't answer immediately. Instead, she held a folder, reviewing its contents. "This file contains all your information," she said finally. "Honestly, some government employees, paid with taxpayer money, sit in secure rooms analyzing why you wear this uniform. It's absurd."
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