She had the sinking suspicion it was woman's intuition. But what did it know? She'd be smarter to trust her feline sensibilities...but then, those were against her too, if she had a tail, it would be twitching with curiosity...
His letter had been sent electronically to her laptop. It was buried beneath enough code to make even Oracle's head spin and while her computer skills were no where near that next to the redhead's, she'd managed to untangle it.
It had been stark, cryptic and to the point, perfectly like him.
Selina -
Cave. Six on Seventh.
B
That had been it. Considering she had not figured out the message completely until the fifth, it had taken some string pulling in order to get her a flight back to Gotham in time, but somehow she'd managed to arrive there right on the seventh of the month, three hours before she was due to meet him.
This gave her very little time to spruce herself up and frankly she didn't really plan on bothering. Why did he want to meet with her? Things hadn't ended well at all last time they'd been together.
A part of her couldn't necessarily blame him. But that was only a small part. The rest of her was outraged, insulted woman. He'd practically accused her of being involved with that whole 'Hush' mess. He had thought her some pawn tossed in his path to distract him, thought her some part of his latest masked villain's grand scheme.
She had never seen it that way, but she certainly hadn't seen it as some grandiose romance novel either. Her last words to him came back unbidden.
Oh. So. It's over. If you want me to say, "I love you..."
He had just stood there, his face as unreadable as ever, Batman mask or no, and she had continued...
Listen, I don't need to know if this started out as a spell. Forget about being a detective for once. We are who we are. That's why this works. Maybe, someday, you'll come to trust that. Until then...
And then she had left him. Other adventures had called her name and she had buried herself deep into them, deep into something that would help her to not think of her hurt and her pain...
She should have never been so foolish, should have never gotten so attached...
But then, they had been dancing around one another so long and when it finally seemed as if they'd both been caught...it had been so promising...
And finally she had seen the face behind the mask, the man behind the Bat. Bruce Wayne. She had been amazed to discover the playboy was so multifaceted, and even more pleased to realize that the Batman had an attractive mug under the mask after all...
She could remember nights long ago, when they had first tangled. She had always been attracted to him, the dark vigilante hero but she had wondered about the face hiding underneath and sometimes been scared at the idea of him being the real scary looking type.
Disfigured, scarred, ugly...
Though she had highly doubted it. Hell, what's more she had figured even if he had been ugly under the mask she would have wanted him anyway, he was Batman after all...her greatest desire...the one treasure she couldn't steal...
But to find out he was Bruce, to have him trust her with that and then trust her with so much more...
He had been the thief instead. The one to steal her feelings...
If you want me to say, "I love you..."
She had said that in the most nastiest of tones, but what had she really meant by saying it? Why had she even mentioned 'love' at all? It seemed almost too easy to say she was mentioning it in such a way as to say it was nothing, that seemed too simple, which was funny because she had always thought it should be the reverse.
Selina adjusted her goggles and shook her head, letting out a breath. She was confusing herself with all this deep thinking. She was going to his cave at six, just as he asked, but she wasn't going to bother gussing herself up for it.
She was going in costume, not Gucci...
Hell, that was probably what he wanted her for anyway. He had probably called her from the loveliness of Rome for some stupid mission. Maybe Hush had returned or something else but whatever it was, if that's what he thought he was using her for, if that's why he had called her, he could just think again.
She was not going to become one of his Bat Toys.
She'd told him this once and she'd tell him yet again. Maybe even put some force behind it. Ever since their last encounter and the shabby way he'd treated her, the idea of punching him in his smug detective face had become more and more appealing.
She eased into the Batcave easily enough. She knew his security and knew that there was no way around it, but seeing as he had invited her, she highly doubted she would be picked up as an intruder by the system.
She worked her way down to the lower level, looking for him. Her movements were silently agile as she leapt from place to place, her hands and feet as quiet as cat's paws. She found him decked out in costume as per usual, his eyes up to the rafters.
Selina was uncertain as to whether or not he had spotted her or was just sensing her presence. She thought herself well hid in the dark but there was no sense in keeping up some pretense of mystery. She leapt down to the ground before him, slowly rising to her feet.
She pushed her goggles up to reveal her startling green eyes, a few ebony hairs peeking out from beneath the black leather of her catsuit to rest on her tanned forehead, "You've got some nerve contacting me."
He didn't breath a word, hands fisted at his sides, cape flowing out behind him and eyes as hard as ever to read.
She crossed her arms, "So what did you want?"
He looked at her, almost thoughtfully and then spoke, "I wanted to see you."
"Well," she opened her arms, "Here I am. Now what is it?"
"Selina...you and I never really got a chance to talk after...everything."
"You mean Hush? I think we got a real good chance to talk, Bruce. Or should I call you Batman when you're in the costume? Or should I just call you Batman all the time now and hey, if I do, are you going to call me Catwoman all the time or do you get special rights since you've known my identity for so long and I only learned yours recently? After all, I think you've called me Selina more than you've ever called me..."
She shook her head, frustrated, "Look, I don't want to talk, all right? I don't want to get into this. I want to know why you called me from Rome. Even better, I want to know why I bothered to come at all."
"Didn't you warn me once about thinking too much?"
It was joke. Jokes from him were rare.
But at this time, his dry humor merely grated at her, teeth clenching, "Bruce..."
His tone was smooth, "I asked you here because I wanted to see you, I wanted to talk to you, and what's more...I wanted this..."
He stepped back and Selina's eyes widened to see a little table and two wineglasses. One eyebrow rose, as she looked at him, totally puzzled. He pulled back the cowl, revealing his face and he gave her a strange little smile, "I think you also said once I should make some arrangements..."
"Bruce, what is this?"
"I was...I can admit to being wrong about something when I know I'm wrong."
She scoffed, "You? You seem too much like the stubborn type to do that. "
"Pride is a weakness. I fall to it sometimes, I'll give you that. But when I do and I make mistakes, I admit them."
"And try to rectify them?"
"Selina..."
She looked at him and felt heat flush to her cheeks. She shouldn't let him off so easy. But then gestures like this from him of all people was just so...
She moved from foot to foot, one hand rubbing her arm, "I came in costume...and you-"
"I chose to wear the costume knowing you'd most likely do the same. I imagine you didn't see any other reason for you to be here. I have a change of clothes for you if you'd like. I can change as well."
"Whose...what about Gotham?"
"Special favor from Dick. He has the town for tonight."
She was bowled over. Bruce/Batman, both were the same sides of an egotistical, self-centered coin. He was never reckless enough to allow his city one night without himself on the prowl. And yet here he was now saying Dick could take care of it, that he was handling it...
"You honestly believe your precious Gotham can survive without you for one night?"
"I missed you."
He said it so simply and yet it struck so deeply.
Were her eyes actually tearing slightly? God she hoped not...
"Bruce..."
"Selina, have dinner with me."
She licked her lips, her words coming out in a shaky breath, "I'm not very hungry..."
It came to her attention that his hands were no longer fists, that he looked almost relaxed as he said softly, "We can do whatever you like."
"Bruce, I can't just forget...what happened...what you said and what I said..."
"Then tell me what I can do, Selina."
"I don?t know, Bruce. I don't think there's any answer, any way to fix..."
"Well I only have tonight, 'cause Dick goes back to Bludhaven tomorrow..."
She squinted at him, "Did the Joker hit you with some gas or something? 'Cause that's two jokes from you now."
"It wasn't really a joke..."
"So you aren't really at ease not being out?"
"Dick can handle himself."
"That's not what I asked you."
"I worry about Gotham. There's no time that I really don't."
"You?re a man who loves his city. Or maybe a man who just loves himself, can't let anything tarnish your dark knight armor, can you, Batman?" She sighed and shook her head, looking at the wineglasses longingly, "There's no quick fix to this, Bruce. You can't just give me one date one night and expect..."
"We're both busy people, Selina. You as Catwoman and me as Batman. We're not really the dating type anyway. I'm not trying to use this as a Band-Aid. I'm not trying to give you one perfect night to try and hold on to you. I'm trying to apologize and am doing it through a gesture you had once suggested to me."
"When did I...?" she remembered there conversation on the rooftop. She remembered their kisses, his hands on her and she knew for certain now she was blushing, "Bruce, that, um, conversation about...arrangements didn't really have to do with dating...it had more to do with..."
He walked over to her and the words dissolved in her throat. Without the mask she could see his eyes now and for once they weren't unreadable. The steel blue gaze was...hungry...
"I know."
She tried not to shiver at his deep, gruff tone and failed miserably. His hands rose and rested on her shoulders, she could feel the heat through his gloves, through her costume, "You don't have to say, "I love you." And I don't have to say "I'm sorry." But we both know what we're saying underneath it all."
She wanted to deny him. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to smack his hands away and tell him to stop twisting things. Tell him that he wasn't not, not saying "I love you" either...if that made any sense...
But she didn't do either of those things. Instead she stood there, frozen in his grip and one of his hands had risen, caressing her right cheek. His unreadable face slipped and showed such a tenderness, a longing as he whispered, "God, I really did miss you."
Then he lowered his head and caught her lips. This kiss wasn't like any of the others they'd ever shared. It wasn't fierce and passionate. It wasn't hot and steamy. It was gentle and sweet. The kind of kisses she had seen in movies. The kind she'd tossed popcorn at and not believed.
Her fingers threaded through his thick, dark mane of hair as she kissed him back, pressing her body lush against his own. His arms wrapped around her and he returned her embrace, practically hugging her as he kissed her and she was suddenly overcome with an inner working of this man, a part of him she doubted anyone saw and knew he would certainly hate to look at...
The lonely part.
It seemed too cliche to look at, but despite all the those he'd amassed around him, he was still alone. Still reaching out for someone or something...
And at this moment, it seemed as if he had found it...
She distantly heard her goggles clatter to the floor and then the top hood of her costume was pushed off completely, allowing his own fingers to tread cautiously over her hair, through it, and she shuddered at the feel of it.
After all, what cat didn't like to be petted?
The idea made her want to chuckle but then his tongue entered the moist recesses of her mouth the only sound she could manage was a pleasured moan. His hands ran over her shoulders and down her back, lips departing her own to run over her face, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin and then down along her neck, licking wetly at the black leather collar of her costume.
She felt a sigh escape her, eyes heavy lidded as she purred, "You know...I lied."
He froze and drew back to look at her, eyes questioning.
A smirk quirked her lips upward, "I am hungry, after all..."
Her fingers traced over his chest and his abs and it was hard not to whistle in appreciation. The man wasn't super human and yet he was built like a rock, cut perfectly. She couldn't begin to imagine how he'd shaped himself into such form. Her own had come almost pre-naturally but he had to work hard for it...
And now she'd reap the benefits.
He impulsively took hold of one of her hands and turned on his heel, leading her somewhere. Normally she would object to being lead around anywhere, much less by her hand like some child but the feel of his palm cradling her own hand whole was rather pleasant and she found at this moment that she would follow him anywhere.
Her free hand however snagged one of the full wineglasses and she took a few sips as she followed him. The taste of fresh, crisp champagne rolled over her tongue. She couldn't place who had bottled this or where from but it was exquisite.
He'd certainly spared no expense, on the wine or on the mansion they now entered. She was surprised that he had lead her out of the Cave and into the house. She wondered vaguely if she'd see his beloved butler anywhere but there seemed to be hide nor hair of Alfred Pennyworth.
A possible night off?
First leaving Gotham in Dick's hands and now this? It was almost too much for her to consider, for her to contemplate...
Bruce Wayne, Batman, relaxing? On holiday? Being reckless...what was this world coming to?
As deftly as she swiped the wineglass she casually placed it, now empty, on some table. Her eyes had roamed over all the opulent settings as he'd lead her through halls, up flights of stairs until they ended up where they were now.
The master bedroom.
And master certainly was accurate. Could the floors actually be made of white marble? The huge bed had to be a bit over a king, possibly imported and the headboard was innately carved wood.
Naturally there was his propensity for black, the silk sheets, plush comforter, satin pillowcases...
The curtains too were dark colored, as were several flower arrangements. Deep purple orchids and other exotic plants in crystal clear vases. The fireplace mantel, however, betrayed the rooms' cold, stark and yet classy feel.
There were a few pictures there. One of a happy family of three. The Waynes - father, mother, and son long, long ago. And tiny toys cluttered here and there, a shrine to something long since lost that would never be recaptured again.
For a moment her heart ached and she tried to convince herself consuming the wine had done it, acid reflux, heartburn...
Bruce had stopped walking and he turned to her. His face was blank and yet his eyes no longer seemed so, maybe they would never be unreadable to her again now, though she highly she doubted it. His eyes at this moment were as intelligible as any page in a book, she could see his stark need.
Her gaze flittered over the bed and she wondered vaguely if he had ever even used it once. He did not seem the kind to sleep, she wasn't sure what kept him going, what kept him running. Could his vengeance be that endless? That vigilant?
But those thoughts were swept away from her swiftly as he drew her close and covered her mouth with his own again. She could feel his body beneath the palms of her hands again. So warm and solid, hard, and she felt him bristle slightly as he tasted her again. Perhaps he was surprised to now find wine tinged in with her natural flavor?
The surprise, if it had been there at all, seemed to fade quickly though as his own hands roamed over her. His touch was careful but with this tinged simmer beneath. She could tell he was yet again holding back, as he had done on the rooftop long ago before she had provoked him into more.
She was tempted to do so again, he had all ready given so much this evening, what would be the harm in letting it all go? In being wild for once...
One of his fingers had looped into the top silver ring of her costume and she felt him tug at it idly. He drew his lips from hers, their breath mingling as he looked into her eyes, "You said once that I can't imagine how difficult it was to get out of your old costume..."
He tugged at the ring, the sound of her zipper peeling apart becoming more amplified as he brought his lips to her right ear, whispering into it, "I can."
The cool air of the room ran over her exposed flesh, making it break out into goosebumps. She removed her gloves herself and then shifted on her feet, clumsily tugging at her boots, one foot at the other until they were tossed off to one side.
He'd all ready unlatched her whip belt. The whole mass of it clumping down to the floor as he began to ease her costume completely off, peeling it from her shoulders. She was entirely nude beneath and soon stood before him, bare. Color flushed all over, making her tan skin blossom pink as she tried not cover herself.
She wasn't ashamed of her body, quite the contrary, she was more than happy to flaunt the hard work she had done but he was still who he was, his eyes still saw into her too deeply, too piercing...
His removed both of his gloves, tossing them aside, bare hands running appreciatively over her naked form. He cupped her breasts, fondled them experimentally, thumbs brushing the dark rose tips and she couldn't keep herself from crying out softly, the feel of his callused touch unbelievably sensuous.
They had bearly done anything and she all ready felt half out of her mind. Once again she tried to blame the wine and knew it was a feeble, foolish excuse. Instead she tried to focus herself on something else as he kneaded her hips, her fingers tugging his cowl up and over his head, cape whistling to the floor.
She ran her fingers down to the belt of his costume, searching and finding the bottom hem of the top half, almost like a shirt but not quite so, she couldn't keep a trembling grin from her face, "I imagined how to take this off too...good to see I was right..."
"You've seen me take this off," he remarked but his tone probably wasn't as intimidating as he would have liked it to be. It certainly wasn't its normal cool, clipped timbre. It came out slightly choked now, groaned...
"Oh yeah, you're right, I remember these too," she murmured as his shirt fell to the ground and she ran her bare fingertips over the scars on his back. She vaguely remembered Alfred cleaning up his latest wounds. He'd been shirtless then too and as delectable as ever.
She'd wanted to touch him like this then, but at that time had had the misfortune of wearing her gloves. Now she could enjoy the feeling of skin to skin to the fullest and she found it totally worth the wait she had had to endure.
She stepped around him casually, her lips tracing over his old scars. He stiffened for a moment, then this time really did release a groan.
"What are you...?"
"To make it all better, told you that once before," she whispered but even as she did this her hands creeped around to the front of him, undoing his utility belt, letting it clatter to the floor.
Her naked breasts brushed against his back and he could feel the drag of her nipples, tiny pebbles against him and he turned in her embrace, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her, easing her back towards the bed.
She reached out blindly behind her, snatching at the perfectly made comforter and sheets, tossing them to one side and ruining Alfred's hard work. She fell back on the mattress and he eased himself down on top of her.
Without the costumes, in bed, in each other arms, she felt they were no longer Batman and Catwoman with their sordid history. They weren't even Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle with their secrets and tremulous lives.
They were merely two people who had reached this point in their relationship. That point where you took the next step. He covered her more effectively than any blanket in her life had, his hands still dancing all over her as his mouth buried itself between her breasts, claiming one and then the other, licking and sucking, biting a little and the feel of his teeth caused a keening cry to escape her.
While his mouth lavished attention at one point of her, his fingers found another, diving straight to the throbbing center of her, tracing along the wet, honeyed heat and she bucked the moment she felt his touch there.
Oh god, she hadn't even thought about how much pressure had built up there and now he was touching her there, caressing and teasing and driving so closer, so deeper...
Her hands had been roaming his spine and flank, clawed fingers digging, marking flesh, marking territory and she found his earlobe close to her mouth, caught it between her lips, tongue teasing for a moment, teeth bearly gnawing and then clamping almost painfully.
His body stiffened in her grip and another groan as his fingers sped up, showing no mercy, as they plunged into her warmth, one finger idly brushing the aching nub of her desire. And she was close, so very close when he drew his hand away she actually cried out in despair.
And the bastard actually had the indecency to smile at her, at her obvious want, as he readjusted himself over her. She wanted to make him pay, she wanted to flip him over on to his back and leave him the helpless needy one, wanting to use her hands and mouth to drive him wild. All it would take was one trip down south; her attention all focused on one very important part...
But no, they'd been dancing around one another too long and there never seemed to be enough time. She would get her revenge on him after this, after the first time. But this first time, god she hadn't wanted it to be rushed but she wanted it bad and she wanted it now and-
Thoughts cut off as he entered her. Her fingers were now tangled in his sweat dampened hair and she heard his name leave her in a choked gasp, her legs wrapping around his own, drawing him nearer, closer, it was like they were melting into one being and he hadn't even started moving yet.
And then he was moving.
Selina had never been one for the clich� of your eyes rolling back into your head in pleasure but here she was now, beneath Bruce, beneath the Bat, beneath the man she'd dreamed of and her eyes felt as if they could focus on nothing but the back of her skull and it seemed so unglamorous and unromantic and yet it was, it was.
It was perfect.
The fit. The feel. The moment. And then her eyes did adjust and they locked on his, so cool and steel blue gray. No, not cool but not hot...smoldering...burning at this temperature that was just right...
And he was moving but not fast, not quick but not slow, not sluggish. It was this sweet, level tempo that made it so she almost forgot that mere moments ago she was almost there. Now it seemed to drag on and on and one of her hands left his hair and fell to her side, brushed his palm, he held her hand...
Never taking his eyes off her, continually moving, he swooped in to capture her lips in a kiss. And she broke apart into a million pieces.
Her climax was the key to triggering his own and for a few seconds in their separate minds the world was inert. Black became white, white became black, the stars crashed into the sea, and Gotham City, Batman, Catwoman, Bruce Wayne, and Selina Kyle were no more. There was nothing but this.
And as quickly as they were washed over with the feeling it was gone. A flash that came and went and yet struck them both deep in the center of their beings. A strike that left a mark that would never heal.
And still their eyes were locked, still they looked at one another, into one another. For once Batman had been reckless, for once Catwoman had surrendered and been taken captive, caught, no longer in control and for both Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle it was a moment of utter empyrean realization.
They held one another and didn't break eye contact until sleep snared them in its web. Both knew the masks would return, the vigilance of the Dark Knight never ending, the thirst for freedom and power of the Catwoman eternal but at least for now, asleep in one another's arms, they could keep their reckless heaven just a little bit longer.
"Reckless" belongs to Kora.