Chapter Text
It’s been three weeks since Bruce had encountered ‘Selina’ and he couldn’t stop thinking and replaying the events repeatedly in his head. He feels guilty for still not reporting the crime that happened right in front of him, but the selfish desire to keep the public from finding out who he was and the media circus that would surely follow. He could contact Gordon about it, though it’s way below his pay grade, but Bruce couldn’t find it in himself to do it. Bruce had decided to look up the guy, finally remembering his full name: Corradi Caperelli. While the guy’s family was nowhere near the Wayne's in terms of wealth, he wouldn’t exactly be hurting from a single case of credit card fraud. Not only that, but it was no secret the Caperelli’s are good pals with Carmine Falcone and Bruce has done enough research on that guy to know anybody even vaguely involved with him has some dirty secrets to hide. It’s a strange moral dilemma Bruce never thought he would have to face.
And now, once again, Bruce finds himself behind the counter of The Morning Grounds with a new book in hand when the front door gives a light jingle signaling new arrivals. Bruce looks up and his eyes immediately zero in on the familiar woman hanging off the arm of a slightly less familiar man, though, no, Bruce has probably met him too at some point or other. A name pops into his mind for this one: Ryan Hatch. Yeah, the Hatch’s have attended a few of the Wayne parties in the past, it seems Selina has a particular M.O. and it now involves The Morning Grounds.
A wave of deja vu washes over Bruce as he watches the, decidedly less damp, couple. Ryan takes a sweeping look around the cafe while Selina looks ahead at Bruce, a smile forming on her face.
“How’d you even find a place like this? It’s almost like the owner’s don’t want it to be found.” Selina’s smile becomes less genuine at the sound of her companion’s voice. If Bruce had to guess, she found The Morning Grounds by looking for the only ATM in a half mile radius. Bruce wonders to himself whether this is a new scam for Selina or if she’s smart enough to be using multiple locations. How many other people have fallen victim to her act? And how is she able to find these guys in the first place? Obviously she has connections that would suggest she herself is well-off, and yet she needs to steal? But I would have met her at a party if that were the case, and there’s no way I would’ve forgotten meeting h-
“Um, hello?” Bruce’s deep thoughts were abruptly cut off causing him to blink back into the moment. Evidently Selina and Ryan had walked up to the counter and were now looking at him like he was crazy. Oops.
“Sorry about that, what can I get for you?” Bruce forced down the embarrassment and put on his best customer-facing expression, hoping they wouldn’t bring it up. Ryan looked like he was going to say something before Selina quickly spoke up.
“I’ll have my usual.” She said completely straight-faced. Bruce stared at her for a second before recalling her previous order and scratching it down on his pad. Selina gave him a smile similar to the last time she came here, more genuine than the ones she had been throwing to her companion. Bruce didn’t understand where it was coming from, she didn’t know him personally and they had barely said more than a few words to each other. Everything about Selina was confusing to him in the admittedly short time knowing her. Before Bruce could go on another internal tangent Ryan gave his order which Bruce almost didn’t catch.
“...gray tea, large.” Bruce pointlessly wrote that down too.
“...That’ll be $9.67.” Bruce relayed and soon felt another wave of deja vu come over him as he watched Ryan check his pockets for a minute before coming to the conclusion it was not on his person.
“You think maybe it fell out at the park?” Selina asked once again with only concern in her voice.
“I can check real quick, I’ll be right back.” Ryan started speaking as he walked toward and out the door in a rush. And lo and behold Selina pulls an expensive looking wallet out of her own jacket and walks to the ATM. This time Bruce tries to reason with her.
“He seems like a nice guy, you sure you want to rob him?” Bruce tries to keep his question wholly innocuous and curious, but not outright accusing.
“HA! Honey, you have no idea. Guys like him may ‘seem nice’ out in public, but behind closed doors you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between him and a feral animal.” Selina’s lip curls in disgust at the thought, but her eyes stay focused on the screen of the ATM. “Besides rich asshole’s like them can spare a bit of their parent’s cash, they won’t miss it.”
…She’s not wrong. Both Caperelli and Hatch probably wouldn’t even notice the discrepancy in their funds and even if they do would they care? If anything, they’d probably blame it on a black-out induced night of drinking and partying. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Selina it’s that she’s smart, she probably doesn’t take enough for it to be too suspicious. Who would notice if a few drops of water were taken from a lake?
“You zone out a lot, huh?” Bruce startled slightly, finally noticing Selina had finished at the ATM and was now standing in front of the counter. She was smiling at him again, but one of her eyebrows was raised in expectation.
“Oh, right.” Bruce realized she was waiting on the order and started getting it together.
“You remembered my order.” She sounded slightly impressed by the fact, though Bruce didn’t understand why.
“Don’t get too many customers in the first place and you did leave an impression.” At this Selina cocked her head to the side, placed a hand on her hip, and her smile grew.
“Wow, ‘left an impression’? Little old me?” Her voice took on the breathiness she displayed around her victims and Bruce hated having it directed at him. Rather than reply he focused on making the drinks not wanting to egg on her behavior. After capping the drinks and getting her pastry, he finally looks back to see Selina with a confused expression, though it didn’t seem to be directed at Bruce. She was staring at her shoes pensively, seemingly lost in thought and had yet to notice Bruce had finished her order.
“...Order for Selina.” Bruce said, pleased to see he wasn’t the only one getting distracted today. Selina looked up, a flash of surprise at being caught deep in thought before quickly masking it behind a smile. She fished out a twenty from her newly acquired wad of cash and handed it to Bruce.
“You can keep the change.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at that. He obviously didn’t need it and started counting out her change.
“No, you take it, it’s fine.” Bruce tried to convey how much he did not want the tip through his voice, but either Selina did not pick up on it or she didn’t care.
“No, I insist. Don’t worry they’ll never know, it’s just a twenty.” She attempted to reassure Bruce to no avail. Selina took a step back from the counter and gave Bruce a look over, her face becoming pensive again. For a second, Bruce’s heart leapt into his throat thinking she finally recognized him somehow, even though his face hasn’t been in the papers since he was ten. He was preparing for the worse when she said, “Are you from Gotham? Most people around here wouldn’t pass up some extra cash.”
Bruce took a second to calm himself before replying, “Yeah, lived here my whole life. Just thought you would want to keep what you worked so hard to get.” He tried not to grimace as he spoke the words. You didn’t work for this, you stole it.
“Aw, a gentleman. Never thought I’d see one of those in this city.” Selina teased and Bruce felt his cheeks heat up uncomfortably. She picked up her drink and took a sip. “Well, if you’re not comfortable keeping it, mind passing it along to the person that makes these?” She held up the plastic container with her tiramisu. “It was delicious! I could eat them everyday for the rest of my life if my diet allowed it!”
“...sure, he’d be happy to hear how much you liked it.” Alfred had a lot of pride in his baking, and in general, but his baking especially. Bruce still remembers the day he had admitted to Alfred that he didn’t really have a sweet tooth and that, while he appreciated Alfred’s efforts, he didn’t need to make so many pastries. Alfred could barely look at Bruce for an entire month, but eventually the indignation Alfred felt mellowed out, especially after Bruce gifted him a new stand mixer in apology.
Bruce wonders to himself whether it would be easier to look at the woman in front of him and see a criminal if her crimes weren’t so petty. His novels and true-crime podcasts were filled with hard-boiled detectives chasing down psycho serial killers, gang members, and jilted lovers who felt justified in their drastic actions. A part of him can’t help but see thievery as comparable to murder, after all his family was almost destroyed over a wallet and some pearls. But Selina’s not holding anyone at gunpoint. She’s not making threats or demands, his mind supplies. Bruce didn’t want to believe Selina was capable of that, he didn’t want to keep seeing other people as potential threats every time he left his home. This has probably been the most he’s conversed with someone other than Alfred, his parents, or his therapist in years, he realizes, and, despite her actions, it hasn't been unpleasant. For now, Bruce decides he'll leave her be, so long as she doesn’t actually harm anyone.
“Wanna share with the class?” Selina’s voice cuts through Bruce’s thoughts once again.
“Huh?” Bruce blinks himself back into the present and realizes he had been quietly staring at the register, lost in thought.
“Looks like I lost you again. Been a long day?”
“Yeah, something like that, sorry.” Selina waves him off.
“Nah, I get it early morning work shifts sound killer. I’m a night person myself and I can’t imagine waking up anytime before 9am on a good day.” Bruce unconsciously found himself nodding at her words in agreement.
“I wish I could work night shifts, but who wants coffee at twelve in the morning? We’d get even less business than we already do.” Though, that honestly sounded like a dream come true to Bruce. Working at night and basically no customers? If only Alfred wasn’t so hellbent on getting Bruce regular human interaction.
“Hah, you may be surprised. Gotham is most alive at night after all.” Selina smirks and her eyes flick away as if recalling the multiple nights of Gotham she’s been witness to. She looks both fond and sardonic at the thought.
It went on for a while like that, Bruce easily finding his voice to continue the conversation with Selina, who never looked or spoke to Bruce with judgments even when he admitted to only really leaving his house for work. They were both too engaged to even think about what might be taking Ryan so long to come back that they both jumped in surprise when the bell rang. They both looked to see Ryan looking a little worse for wear, a bit rumpled, his forehead shining with sweat, and with a down-turned expression.
“I-I’m sorry ‘Lina, I couldn’t find it.” He sounded sincerely apologetic and it made Bruce’s stomach squirm uncomfortably, but Selina was quick to reassure.
“Hey, it’s okay. I took care of your order, though your tea may not be hot at this point.”
“I can remake it for you, free of charge.” Bruce found himself saying, to his surprise. He probably wouldn’t have said anything had Selina not gotten him to talk so much prior.
“No, no, no need. I just really need to find my wallet.” Ryan said, stressed and indicated that it was time to leave. He swiftly went back out the door not waiting for Selina, who looked back at Bruce with an apologetic smile.
“Well, it was nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” It sounded like a promise and with a small wave she was gone too, leaving Bruce once again with a lot to ruminate on.