She stepped into the elevator and smiled at the handsome, but very young conductor. His eyes lit up and his face reddened as he slipped the key in and pressed the 78th floor button that appeared after he did so. The elevator doors slid open and she stepped out into the pristine hallway. She walked down, admiring the various artworks mounted on the walls for display. Already the soft sounds of music reached her ears and she found herself humming along. At the end of the hall, two serious looking men stood on each side of the entrance. She smirked. Their only reply a curt nod, then the doors swung open for her.
The music was loud and the chatter of people louder.
She made her way through the mass of bodies, green eyes subtle in their search.
...
He saw her the moment she walked in. Her dress matched her raven hair and she caught the eye of everyone she passed. He excused himself from the Mayor's company and sought her out without shame. He was Bruce Wayne, after all, and no one expected anything less. Or anything more.
"Selina," He greeted, not sure if his excitement at having her so close was genuine or still part of his game.
She graced him with a lovely smile, "Bruce. How are you?"
"Much better now that you're here," he replied, surprised at how honest it sounded, even to himself.
She laughed and he offered her his right arm.
...
For weeks Catwoman followed him. Watched him fight the city's and his own demons. He was fascinating and she couldn't look away. When she had more than enough intel on the several spots he covered nightly on patrol, though it was never the same pattern, she decided to test out her information.
She hit places she knew would be out of his way, but though she stole successfully, it was quite a bore. So, one night, tired of flying under his radar, she decided to make her presence known. Thinking back, stealing two Monets, though profitable and certainly an adrenaline rush, had been a mistake. She didn't regret it. She only regretted that she had been unaware of his persistence; the sore muscles of her legs and thighs paid the price.
She enjoyed playing with the bat, but then someone else caught her eye. Selina was a beautiful woman and she knew it, but it didn't matter. Not, really. It was another weapon she had to wield at her disposal. She was well aware that powerful men liked to play with beautiful toys. Every powerful man it seemed, except one. He didn't have the same malice lurking in his eyes or the stench of hubris following him around. No, he was different. So she watched him. Fascinated, yet again.
He was the Prince of Gotham and though at times he played the part, there were other times when the emptiness shown through hallow-looking eyes. So, she watched Bruce as well. At parties, at fundraisers, at museum openings. He had to be there because his foundation funded the event and she was there to learn the museum's layout in a way that no blue print could ever reveal. She noticed that the only time he seemed happy and almost at peace was when he was leaving for other haunts.
It amused her that she was one woman watching two men. Until it dawned on her that perhaps she was one woman watching one man. Catwoman had certainly gotten Batman's attention and Selina had Bruce's... She liked the idea and she sought out to prove herself right.
...
Catwoman had been sure to slice Batman's left arm, so that the gush of blood ended their fight and Selina, in her fancy black dress, thought back to the previous night with great satisfaction. She felt like a cat, toying with its prey. A hunter cornering the hunted about to take home the prize. The moment she pressed on Bruce's bicep, he'd flinch and he'd be hers forever.
She moved in step with him as he led her on the dance floor. They moved perfectly in unison, like those old married couples that know their partner intimately and can predict their next move. She looked up at him and smiled, her green eyes glinting with something primal, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away or drown the desire that arose as he watched her. Her arm slid casually from his shoulder to his bicep and her heartbeat increased two-fold.
Then, nothing. He continued smiling at her, lost in her beauty. She wanted to squeeze his arm, but subtlety usually worked best. She lost her footing purposefully, stumbled slightly, and leaned with more pressure than was necessary into his arm.
Again, nothing. He simply wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and pulled her in closer until she was pressed flush against his body.
"Selina?" he asked, concern filling his eyes.
"Hmmm?" she smiled weakly. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have miscalculated everything so horribly?
His head dipped down, his lips grazing her ear, and he whispered, "Are you all right?"
She'd made a mistake somewhere along the line and she would figure out exactly where. In the meantime, she couldn't afford to have Bruce suspicious, "I'm fine." She forced a pleasant smile to her face and looked up into his hazel-blue eyes.
His smile almost made her forget why she was there in the first place.
...
Alfred opened the car door and asked, "Well, sir?"
Bruce grinned, "She almost had me Alfred." He looked up at her apartment window, "I can't afford to be so careless again."
Bruce stepped into the car. Alfred closed the door behind him and walked around to the driver's side. When he got in and began to drive away, he looked in the rearview mirror and asked, "Am I to presume you will no longer be seeing Miss Kyle then, sir?"
Bruce shook his head, trying to ignore the absurdity of it all, "We're having lunch tomorrow."
"Ah, very smart, indeed, Master Wayne."
Bruce quirked an eyebrow, "Alfred?"
"That old adage, sir: keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
Bruce looked out the window wanting to believe Alfred was right and hoping that was all there was to it.