Archive of Our Own ^beta

The tiger opens one glorious golden eye, looks at me, and his tail curls up and down again in recognition of a kindred spirit. He yawns, stretches, and pads sulkily to a more shady patch of ground before curling up again, back to me and the rest of the zoo visitors watching.

“Selina, are you okay?”

Startled, I look up to see concern on Bruce’s face, his chocolate ice cream cone half-eaten while my vanilla soft-serve is dripping, untouched. Daintily, I lap at it until I’m no longer in danger of sticky fingers.

“You look…intense. Is something wrong?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

My gaze returns to the gold and black form sulking in the shade, and Bruce follows it. “Maybe the zoo wasn’t such a good idea. I’m sorry, Selina. I thought you’d like seeing the big cats.”

“I do, Bruce, it’s just…I know how they must feel. Kept in an enclosure, unable to go where they please…” My other hand curls into a fist on the cement wall separating human from feline.

“But…”

“Oh, Bruce, tell me I’m not in a cage now. You don’t know what it’s like. Catwoman was more than just a costume, she was…my soul. My inner self. To never be able to go back to that…” I can only guess at what’s on my face, from how serious he looks. “I feel like I’m going crazy. Every time I look out my windows, my fingers itch to throw them open, to leap out into the night and run free.”

“What’s stopping you?” Bruce asks carefully.

“You know what’s stopping me. The judge said-“

But I’m warning you, Ms. Kyle. If you ever don your Catwoman costume again to violate the law…

To violate the law…violate the law…violate the law…

I realize that my mouth is open and ice cream has dripped onto my fingers, but I don’t care.

“Oh, Bruce, I could kiss you!”

He represses the flash of hope that flared briefly in his eyes, and gives me a sheepish grin instead. “What did I do?”

My ice cream falls to the ground; let the seagulls have it. Overjoyed by this realization, I throw my arms around Bruce’s neck and kiss him soundly on the cheek. The judge’s words will be on record; as long as I keep my nighttime prowls innocent, they can’t take Catwoman away from me.

“Ms. Kyle, you have a visitor. A Mr. Bruce Wayne…”

“Send him up,” I tell the doorman through the intercom, then make sure the door to the elevator’s entry hall room is unlocked.

There’s enough time to haul another suitcase around to the master bedroom before the elevator delivers my visitor. How did he know I’d moved, and where to? He must have been to my old apartment first. This penthouse was expensive, but not as much as it could have been. The neo-Japanese style, rooms arranged in a square with a central garden taking up half the square footage, failed to attract a buyer, and the garden got more and more overgrown until it resembled a patch of wilderness transplanted onto a Gotham high-rise. Perfect for me. I lavish a smile on Isis, sleeping in her basket, as I pass. My precious kitty needs to be able to prowl, and I won’t risk her in the concrete jungle again.

“Hello?”

I set the suitcase down and hurry back in time to see Isis twine around Bruce’s ankles. Purring. My baby is so standoffish around other people that she doesn’t even purr for Maeven, and she didn’t care one way or the other for Bruce the last time he visited…but that was before the viral plague, and Batman nursing her back to health.

Humans are easy to fool. New clothes, change your voice, slouch. A bit of acting, and you’re a new person. Cats aren’t so easy to fool. Now that I know what to look for, I can see where the suit changes the lines of his body…his magnificent body. I’m glad he’s distracted by crouching to pet my cat, because I need a minute to think things through. My first instinct is to throw myself into his arms. My second is to hiss at him for being two-faced about this. He destroys my secret, and then expects me to roll over and play nice for his alter-ego? Or maybe he thinks he’s doing the honorable thing by taking his interest out of the shadows.

“Bruce. What a pleasant surprise.” My voice is just slightly stilted, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Selina!” He straightens and offers me the roses his body had been hiding. “She’s lovely, but not as lovely as you.”

“Flatterer.” I kneel and collect my purring cat, then stand and take the roses. “I’d put them in water, but I’m afraid the place is still a disaster area.”

“Maeven said you’d been holed up here for a few days. I thought maybe I could stop by and try to talk you into some lunch.”

More than you’ll ever know, the memory of Batman’s voice taunts me.

“Sure. I think the fresh air will do me good, and I could use some time to think about things.”

The night breeze is sweet on my face as I run, leap, and climb, reveling in my freedom, losing myself in sheer physical expression. Then I see a shadow not cast by any light, and my joyful frolic becomes a race against fear. I’m not running anywhere in particular, just trying to lose him. Up, down, across, in and out, and then I’m running across a rooftop alone with no shadow dogging my steps or pacing me. Just when I think I’ve won, he looms up in my path and I leap aside, twisting mid-air to evade his grasp.

“Wait.”

The word arrests my motion towards the edge I was about to fling myself off of. Part of me wants to give him a flirty come-on, but with how he’s been shadowing me the last few weeks – always letting me see him, never saying a word nor letting me get close enough to utter one – I am disinclined to make this easy on him. Let’s see how he deals with a sulky cat. When I turn to face him, it is with defiance and I can see him scowl unhappily. Good, at least neither of us are happy about this.

His eyes narrow behind the mask. “Where’s Isis?”

“I left her at home. The streets of Gotham are too dangerous to risk my precious baby a third time.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

I stretch languidly, insolently. “A cat needs to prowl every now and then, no matter how domesticated she appears to be.”

“That’s why you bought that penthouse.” It’s not a question. I nod, and his posture relaxes somewhat. “You left something behind on one of your earlier romps,” he says, walking over to me. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to return it.”

“What-“ the question is cut off deliciously by his lips on mine, one hand on the small of his back and the other between my shoulderblades. When it ends, my hands are greedily spread across his glorious chest and I can see him smirk beneath the mask. “Mmmmm, you keep it.”

He makes no motion to evade me as I take a step closer and raise my lips to his again. The hand high on my back moves as though he were stroking my hair.

“Can I trust you to behave?” he asks once we separate again.

“I won’t do anything to endanger my freedom.” Or moments like this, but I won’t tell him that. I’d go stir-crazy in jail, and I think he knows that.

His hands close on my wrists. “Selina. I need to know that you’re not going to violate your parole, even if you won’t get caught.”

So that’s why he’s been following me. As uptight about the law as he is, it must be driving him crazy to have a lady friend whose ethics he can’t trust.

“As long as I can get out to prowl every now and then, I’ll be a good kitty,” I say bitterly, meeting the eyeholes of his mask squarely. “I promise.”

“No little thefts to fund your organization?”

“You know the saying about any publicity being good publicity. Since the trial, donations and sponsors haven’t been lacking. We’re on solid financial footing now. We’re even negotiating with Wayne Industries.”

The name doesn’t get a reaction out of him. Hardly surprising.

“No…stunts…to get my attention?”

I grin. “I can’t promise that, but I do promise that I’ll stay on the right side of the law.”

“I’ll settle for that.” He grins back. “One more thing. If you find something that needs to be investigated-“

“-I’ll alert the police if I can’t pass it on to you.”

“Thank you.”

He lets go of my wrists, brushing my cheek with one hand before taking off without a word.

The hushed chatter gives him away before he knocks on my door, a dozen red roses preceding him.

“I thought you’d be here, Selina.”

I don’t look up from my typing. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Bruce. Don’t you have a ball to attend? Date to auction off?”

“You never replied to my invitation.”

He sits on the edge of my desk. The suit does a good job of masking the lines of his body, but it can’t hide the way he moves. His romantic overtures, while still rare, have gotten slightly more common since our last, teasing chase – the thrill of the hunt, blood pounding hard enough that when he caught me, pressed me against rough brick, I tasted sweat on his upper lip before he pulled back, reining in the beast. Luckily, Wayne Industries has always been as much of a friend to nature as a corporation that big can be, so the closer business relationship hasn’t drawn any attention.

Yet.

 “Sorry, but my evenings have been packed solid for the last month.” I don’t sound sorry, but that won’t deter him.

“How about next week? Can you pencil in dinner one night?” He drops the tone of false cheer. “Selina, we need to talk.”

My fingers still on the keys. That was Batman’s voice. Is he that dense? Doesn’t he get it? “You’re right,” I say crisply. “We need to talk. Meet me at the corner of Seventh and Pine at two-forty-five. I’ll wear the same little number I was wearing when we first met.”

His eyes narrow slightly as he catches my drift. “And I’ll wear my suit.” He offers me the flowers again. “It’s a date, then?”

A long moment passes before I take the bouquet and lay it on the windowsill behind me. “I’ll see you then,” is all I say.

The hushed chatter follows him out of the building.

 

*************************

 

The wind cries as it cuts around the corner, and the night is still. At first I think I beat him here, but then one of the shadows opens its eyes and steps forward.

“You knew,” he accuses, voice hard.

“Of course I did.”

“Then why-“

“-have I been turning down Bruce Wayne’s advances?” Hands on my hips challenge him to protest the phrasing. “I know you don’t carry your brains in that rippling chest, so why don’t you tell me?”

The mask’s eyes narrow. “You think there’s something improper about him courting you? Don’t try to pretend you’re not attracted to him.”

Well, at least he’s bright enough to not incriminate himself. “Bruce Wayne is a confirmed bachelor. He’s never showed genuine interest in any woman before. Even with as distant as he’s been, it’s just a matter of time before someone notices-“

“-that he’s been trying to court the woman unmasked as Catwoman. Still, there hasn’t been any more illegal activities to mar her image-“

“-but that doesn’t mean certain people have forgotten her continued status as a chink in Batman’s armor.”

He falls silent, fuming, remembering the promise of a case of cat food. If the Joker was clever enough to figure out that my death was a valid way to “get” Batman, then his secret won’t remain so much longer if Bruce and Selina get as friendly as Batman and Catwoman are.

“You used to try to see beneath my mask, but you stopped. Why?”

I reach out and cup his cowled cheek with one needle-gloved hand. “Because I realized that this is the real you, just as this is the real me.”

“Is there no future with the other me, then?” Anger, or perhaps anguish, roughens his voice. “Is this all of you I can have – moments stolen in the night?”

I turn away, crossing my arms. “If you’re going to risk your other identity, you’re going to do it without my help.”

Only the faintest scrape and rustle betray his movement. At first, I think he’s made one of his signature exits, but big hands on my shoulders dissuade me of that notion.

“So you do care,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

When I said those words, I wound up in handcuffs, my hopes slain by cold steel. “And, just like you, I’m doing what I think is best for you – for us – even if it’s the exact opposite of what you want.”

The fingers tighten on my shoulders. “You’re not angry about that.”

“You do what you feel you have to do. I don’t believe in caging wild animals.”

The fingers retreat. “This isn’t settled. I haven’t given up on you, but you’re right. I think Bruce Wayne is about to get the hint that Selina…”

“Threw the roses out where her whole office could see it.”

“I don’t think he’ll waste any more time and effort on that front.”

“It’s for the best.”

For another long moment, the silence is broken only by the wind.

“After that last kidnapping attempt, I got a new security system.” I hope he hasn’t left me talking to myself.

“Good.” He pauses briefly. “What company?”

I grin. He’s already trying to figure out if he can hack it, but I’m one step ahead. “Wayne Industries.”

The laugh sounds like Bruce’s, but when I turn around, he’s gone.

"...not just for yourself, you understand, but for all those poor widdle stuffed critters what never had da chance ta fight back..."

The doll looks surprisingly mock-sympathetic, but I don't buy it. "Oh, barf."

Dummy - if that's his name - thrusts the doll out at me. "It's a fifty-fifty cut," the doll says angrily. "Take it or leave it. You in, or what?"

I think for a minute before taking the envelope.

The doll does me the favor of dropping me off at my apartment building. I ride the elevator to the penthouse in silence, greet my cat, open a can of food for her, and watch as she eats daintily. “I’m going out, Isis," I say gently as I stand, leaving the envelope on the counter. "Don't wait up."

"Mrow..." She purrs at my petting and goes back to her dinner.

I retrieve the envelope before I leave, rolling it tight and slipping it under my belt. The night air tastes like freedom as I throw myself from building to building, twirling and leaping and running and climbing in sheer, delicious joy. Finally, I scale the side of my target, being careful to be silent as I search for the right window. When I find it, the room is just as it's been described. I stretch one hand, the ultra-sharp claws extending from my glove, and-

-tap. Tap. Tap.

Commissioner Gordon stands and comes all the way to the window before showing the slightest hint of surprise, but he still opens it. "You're not Batman."

"How kind of you to notice," I joke. "May I come in?"

He moves aside. "Oh, of course."

As I enter, I slide the roll from my belt and offer it to him.

"What's this?" Gordon takes the envelope and opens it cautiously.

"I was approached earlier this evening by a foul-mouthed puppet and his mild-mannered dummy. 'This' is how they planned to set me up and double-cross me - if I'd been foolish enough to take them up on it."

Gordon looks up from the paperwork. "And instead, you bring it to me. Why?"

I cross my arms. "I'm not foolish enough to risk my freedom for some sparkly jewels, and I'm not stupid enough to think anyone has my best interests in mind." A soft but deliberate throat-clearing behind me alerts me to the fact that we're not alone. "...except him."

Batman brushes past, intent on the papers in Gordon's hand. They both read for a moment.

"What do you think?" Batman asks.

Gordon frowns. "We'd have to wait until here to bust them."

Batman grins at me from under his mask. "How'd you like to slip your leash for a little bit tonight?"

"What are you suggesting?"

Gordon looks up. "Follow the plan up to...Isis?"

"My cat."

"...getting discovered, then book it for the exit. Not the trapped one. Get out of that building however you like, as long as it's not damaging anything. We'll take care of the rest."

I frown, but Batman beats me to it. "I'll collect Isis and put her on the roof of the building across the way. She'll be safe."

"No one on this side will know you were involved but me and Batman, and he doesn't give police statements. This won't violate your parole."

Police condoned breaking and entering. I like it. "You've got yourself a willing catspaw, Commissioner."

 

**********************************

 

“You never answered Gordon’s question,” Batman says as we watch the puppet and his minions being led away in handcuffs from the safety of a nearby rooftop. “You could have turned Scarface down. You didn’t have to bring it to the police.”

“I could have, but all that would have done is kept me clean. No one would have known but me and him. I wanted to punish him for trying to use me like that.”

“Aaaaand?”

I sigh. Should have known he’d hear what I wasn’t saying. “And I wanted Veronica to suffer, too.”

He’s silent for a long moment, which is a relief when I expected him to chide me. I guess he agrees.

“Were you tempted by Scarface’s proposition?”

“Risk losing what’s most important to me for pretty stones and petty revenge? Hardly. I know better than that.”

“It was a good plan. You probably wouldn’t have been caught. It wouldn’t have been a significant risk to your probation.”

He’s testing me. Measuring my commitment to staying on the right side of the law. I smile and kiss his cheek. “I wasn’t talking about my freedom.”

It takes him a second for my meaning to sink in, but by then I’m halfway across the roof. By the time he turns around, I’ve already jumped.

 

**********************************

 

He beats me back to my penthouse, naturally. I flick on the living room light to discover his foreboding silhouette standing by the couch. Unperturbed, I slide my hood off and shake out my hair.

“Did you really mean that?” There’s only hard suspicion in his voice and he turns slightly to follow me with his eyes as I slip behind the screen to change. “You value your cat over your freedom?”

Okay, wait. That’s not…why would he think…? Oh. Right. The viral plague incident. I tie the robe’s sash and come out to face his grim but very handsome clenched jaw.

“Yes, but there’s something I value even higher than her life.”

He doesn’t move as I stop in front of him and lay one hand on his chest. “And what’s that?”

My other hand cups his cowled cheek. “This.”

At first, his lips are hard, pressed into a thin line beneath mine. That doesn’t last. They open all of a sudden, and he kisses me with feral hunger, the desperation of a drowning man clutching a life preserver, the mindless gratitude of a man in the desert drinking cool, pure water. He breaks the kiss finally, breathing heavily, one hand in my hair and the other on my hip. For a long moment, Batman simply looks astonished. Then he grins.

“And here I thought cats couldn’t be domesticated.”

I grin right back. “Don’t get me wrong; no cat is every truly tame. There’s always some part of us that’s wild and can’t be caged.”

“I don’t believe in caging wild animals.” The grin fades. “Selina…doesn’t it bother you that we might never be able to have more than this?”

“Not in the slightest.” My fingers trace the symbol on his chest. “You’re the Batman. You don’t let anything stop you when you really want something, and you’ll wait as long as it takes to get it. I’m just the kitty-cat. So I’ll keep playing aloof until it’s safe, and trust you to handle the rest.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“You deal with freaks and crazies every night; you see the dark side of human nature so much that you forget people aren’t all like that. I’ll never be anything but a predator, and you’re used to the predators being your enemies. I understand.”

He holds me tighter. “I keep thinking you’ll slip back…that one day, I’ll have to cuff you again. Take you to Arkham. Watch as the person I care about is devoured by insanity and resentment. It’s happened before. Or worse – that if I let my guard down, something will happen to you. ”

I nod. It almost happened once, although thankfully not again. 

“Selina…” His hands move to my shoulders and he regards me seriously. “Thank you for being you. After dealing with ‘freaks and crazies’, it’s…refreshing…to think back on your criminal escapades and remember that even though you were on the wrong side of the law, you didn’t have any grandiose delusions or all-consuming obsessions.”

“Why, Batman, are you thanking me for having been a petty cat burglar?”

He answers my grin with one of his own. “Not quite. I’m thanking you for only having been a petty cat burglar. Although…if you hadn’t been on the wrong side of the law, I never would have met the real you and my other self never would have had a chance.”

“Glad I could help.”

We share another sizzling kiss, and he takes his leave. They say crime doesn’t pay, but in my case I think it paid off quite well.

“Brucie! I hear you’re getting hitched!”

We both jerk upright, spines rigid as steel bars, as the Joker’s voice cuts across the chatter like a band saw. Bruce and I share a momentary glance of mutual horror as Joker and his thugs start spreading out from the door, herding the guests back along the walls.

“Uh…that’s right,” Bruce says, sounding nervous in the face of a madman.

“Congratulations! Although…” Joker trails off, looking very mock-concerned. “I’d be careful if I were you. Your Miss Kitty is carrying a torch for old Batsie.”

Despite being briskly relieved of their valuables, the assorted upper crust of Gotham City are all ears. Bruce turns to me, looking so hurt and vulnerable that if I didn’t see the way he was twitching to keep his smile hidden, I’d think I’d just broken his heart.

“Selina, is that true?”

“Can you blame me? Tall, dark, and well-built…he really knows how to sweep a girl off her feet…” And thirty stories straight up, but I don’t have to say that. “He saved my life, and my cat, but he never calls.” A few of the ladies titter. “I’m all yours, Bruce.” I cling to his arm for effect, head laid on his shoulder in a display of surrender.

“Awww, how sweet. It’s making my teeth itch.” Joker scowls at us. “You know, someone once tried to convince me that you were Batman.” One thin finger prods Bruce’s chest. “I didn’t buy it, of course. You’re too much of a doofus to be the Bat.”

Bruce grins sheepishly. “Uh…thanks. I think.”

The goons are done collecting their goods. They move towards us, but Joker waves them off.

“No, no…leave them be. It’s my wedding gift to them!” A wave of grating laughter follows that little pronouncement. “It’s been fun, Brucie, but I’m afraid I’ve gotta dash. Say hello to your Bat friend for me, Miss Kitty, and tell him I’m sorry he missed the party!”

Still laughing like the madman he is, Joker strolls back out the door, goons following, and closes it smartly behind him. Silence reigns for a full thirty seconds as everyone stares at the door, but the Joker doesn’t burst back in with a bomb or anything. Distantly, however, we hear gunfire and police sirens. Three minutes pass with everyone frozen in place as the unseen forces battle it out, then silence again. A single pair of footsteps walks up to the door. There’s a collective gasp as the handle turns, and then Gordon walks in with a sack of valuables in each hand.

“Batman tipped us off that the Joker was headed this way,” he says as he walks up to a seemingly startled Bruce Wayne and hands him the sacks. “We followed him here and he was good enough to help us collar the Joker and his henchmen. Here – I trust you can see these returned to their rightful owners.” He turns to go, then pauses and looks back. “By the way, congratulations to both of you.”

“Thanks, Commissioner!” Bruce Wayne’s slightly-dopey grin follows Gordon out.

 

****************************

 

“So, how’d I do?” Dick asks, kicking back in his upholstered leather chair, hands behind his head.

“Well, you fooled Gordon, so I’d say you did pretty well,” Bruce grins at him. “I almost wish I could thank the Joker.”

Dick sits up, puzzled. “What for?”

“For his lovely wedding gift,” I purr.

“Wedding gift?”

Bruce and I share a glance, grinning widely. “An airtight alibi. It’s hard for me to be Batman when the Police Commissioner says Batman was outside helping him, and even harder when the Joker announces I couldn’t be him.”