Diana did not need to see that Natasha was armed to sense that she was dangerous. Diana was an Amazon, trained for eight hundred years to assess threats and put them down if needed, and beyond that, she was a daughter of Zeus. Heightened senses, heightened speed, too strong by half and with more processing speed than the average human, there was little Diana missed. Still, she was not trying to be nosy, and so she did not suss Natasha out as she might have if they’d met on a battlefield.
Which Diana would not have been looking forward to, because she knew a predator when she saw one. That did not make Natasha bad or evil, merely skilled, and so Diana greeted her as she would an equal, perhaps a bit more warmly than she would’ve another human woman. And this particular one was stunning, enough so that she might’ve been at home on Themyscira, even. Dressing down did not change facts. It was strange to meet a human that Diana would’ve said that about, but then, she also had no guarantee that Natasha was one such. Diana herself was humanoid, not human, and she would do well to remember that.
“Oh, I’m perfectly happy to share,” she said pleasantly, and she boosted herself up on the seat for a moment to reach over the bar. Most human bars kept their glasses in easy access for the bartender, just under the lip, and Diana was quite tall. She could reach one, and did. She had worked as a bartender some few nights here and there, when she had still been trying to figure out some sort of human day job to cover… well, herself.
Diana had been in the midst of pouring a drink as Natasha explained she’d been looking forward to speaking with her, and why, and Diana grinned. She was not as much a fan of vodka as she could be, but she didn’t mind it, and none of this would affect her. So she took a sip, and that grin widened as she looked over to Natasha. “I see. I wonder which embarrassing story he thinks I’m going to tell you. I’ve lost count of the explosions, Natasha, really.” She was mostly teasing, as John Constantine was quite proficient at his job and had saved her rear end a time or two, coming in clutch when she needed information about an artifact or simply to store it somewhere safe from the humans, but Diana was no fool. Clearly John cared for this woman, or else why would he care what Diana might say to her?
That delighted her, because John deserved to be happy, and she hoped he was, with no intentions of being nosy. And Diana was not always right, so she kept that in mind as well. “Has he blown anything up since he’s been here? Including himself?”