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Selina Kyle was not used to working around people. Especially people she didn’t need to protect.
At least, that was Bruce’s hunch from the time he has spend it her. He couldn’t really blame her, he wasn’t accustomed to working with people in general, and trying not to treat them all as people he needed to keep out to protect himself was certainly not something he was any good at. Even with Alfred.
And yet here they were. In the middle of Selina’s old apartment above the abandoned East End Theater, standing from either side of a cluttered island.
The air felt tense, and Bruce could feel the anxiety in his chest, like his armor was pressing into his ribcage and hogging the space from him.
Selina sets him on edge; she always did.
It was stupid really, he could take down gangs, fight killers nightly with ease but a five-foot, two-inch cat burglar from downtown Gotham caused him stand tense in the middle of a cat-crowded apartment and resist the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his own skin.
Selina paced the small kitchen and then the rest of the apartment, trailing her fingers on surfaces and wiping a thin layer of dust of her tabletop.
The part of her table-top that wasn’t cluttered with Bruce’s equipment and first-aid supplies that is.
Bruce was the first to admit that he was not very good at keeping anything clean.
“You’ve been paying my bills?” It question wasn’t pointed but Bruce felt the need to mount a defense.
He pushed the urge away.
“I didn’t have a safe house in this part of town.” He responded. Selina turned around and studied him for a second. “Seemed like a good….” His voice trailed off as he returned Selina’s stare. “Opportunity.” he finished a little lamely.
“So you just, took advantage of that didn’t you?” Selina raised an eyebrow.
Bruce tried not to squirm. Maybe not the best wording in the world. He could tell Selina didn't really believe him too. The apartment was mostly untouched. Bruce wasn’t sure why he couldn’t bring himself to empty it like the other but it was not something he wanted to unpack with Selina.
He already felt like a creep. He probably was.
“Why did you feed the cats?” Selina crouched down and gathered one of the animals in her arms and tucked them close. The little calico purred softly in her arms.
I don’t know. Bruce thought very intensely at Selina’s direction like if he thought hard enough at her he wouldn’t have to say anything. It felt wrong not too.
Bruce could remember the time he had came to the apartment to set up his computer system. The cats had been near feral trying any scrap of food they could.
He had fed them, but it wasn’t then when he realized he should keep the apartment stocked more consistently. It was the time he had returned a few weeks later to find the apartment completely empty. The strays abandoned it once the food was gone. It felt a bit like spitting on a grave. Disrespecting a memory.
Bruce wasn’t sure who’s memory he was disrespecting.
“There was food,” Bruce responded cringing internally at how stupid that sounded.
“I see.” Selina sounded unconvinced.
Bruce looked away very quickly and shifted his weight.
Their silence continued for a few minutes and Bruce allowed himself to listen to Selina moving through their shared space. She greeted the cats, and eventually found his monitor setup. She eyed the camera feeds, set up in key parts of the club that had started this all.
Swan was a popular midtown nightclub that had come under new management after Oz Cobb had scrambled to take up control of as much of the organized crime as he could get his hands on. A few places has fallen through the cracks, like The Swan and a sleazy pair of former dealers by the names of Max Wilkes and Peter Louis had taken the opportunity to reopen the club. Trouble was, soon after people, mostly girls, going to and working at or around the club had started to disappear. Gordon had tipped Bruce off on this pattern of crime offering the possiblity of a trafficking ring.
Bruce’s contacts agreed with that idea, and Bruce had been trying to gather information to go to the head of the ring.
Selina had almost ruined that.
Bruce hadn’t realized she was in town again. Maybe she hadn’t been for long or maybe she had just gotten better at hiding.
“So you are looking into it.” Selina commented calmly as if she hadn’t assumed he didn’t care half and hour ago and had been completely willing assert this fact.
“Yes.”
“What do you have?”
Bruce turned his head toward her in a controlled movement. “What do you mean?”
“Can you prove that they’re doing it?” Selina asked again, a hint of aggression in her tone.
We’re all on the same side here. Bruce wanted to reply. He wasn’t sure that was true, something about Selina now seemed.. Different. Not like he had remembered her.
Maybe she wasn’t the one who was different. Or maybe the Selina he remembered wasn’t real.
“Yes. They’re definitely doing it. They have about twelve girls right now.” Selina stiffened and her eyes flashed with anger. Bruce kept talking, hoping to keep Selina’s anger from being aimed at him. “They’re well taken care of; they don’t want to harm their-” Bruce paused. Stared at Selina.
“Merchandise.” She finished.
“Yeah,” Bruce mumbled.
Selina mouth quirked up and the aggression in her eyes faded. The light of the streetlamps outside reflected in her eyes and she looked more like she was internally laughing at him then like she wanted to scratch is face off.
Which was a improvement, depending on how you look at it
Bruce could imagine Alfred chiding him for mumbling. Speak clearly Bruce. They want to hear what you have to say, give them that opportunity. “They’re waiting for a pickup tomorrow.” He brushed on. “And I have their phones bugged, if anything changes I’ll know.” He paused for a moment. “They’re safe, I promise.” he added.
“Relatively speaking.” Selina pointed out.
“There wasn’t supposed to be anything that would spook them into doing something stupid.” Bruce responded.
It was a low blow, and Bruce knew it. Selina did too, but that didn’t keep her from reacting.
She scoffed, taking a few steps toward the window. “Must be real comfortable up your own ass, huh baby?”
Bruce winced. “I’m sor-”
“No!” she snapped. “You act high an mighty but you haven’t changed a bit. You’re just the same full of yourself, selfish rich-”
“Selina.”
“-asshol-”
“Selina.”
“-you were during the whole Riddler-”
“Selina!” Bruce cut in.
She stopped and stared at him.
“I’m sorry.” he said, a little more forcefully then necessary.
Selina exhaled quietly and Bruce realized it had been a long time since he had apologized to anyone. That probably meant he owned an apology to Alfred about something. Lots of somethings.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He continued quietly. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had said it. Bruce suddenly realized how tired he was. Tired of waking up in the morning after roughly three hours of sleep and practicing pretending being a person with Alfred. Hour after hour. Staring into the mirror and pretending he knew what to do. Pretending to be self-assured and confident. To know the answer.
Bruce didn’t know the answer, he’d be lying if he said it was easier when he didn’t care. When the only reason he was Batman was because it was the only thing he could be. Those days were gone, Bruce knew that. He knew he had to be something more, to the public and to the citizens of Gotham. To day by day he tried again and again to reinvent himself. To face the sun. The trust Gordon. To reach out that hand, again.
Not everything took it as readily as the former mayor’s son.
For example, Selina Kyle.
She stared at him with open disbelief of a moment, before quickly looking away and replacing the look with a more guarded one.
She didn’t trust it, Bruce realized and that made him want to assure her that he wasn’t lying.
He didn’t know how to do that with both of their walls standing so tall.
“What’s your plan?” Selina asked quietly.
“They’re meeting at two a.m. tomorrow for the exchange. I was going to intercept, free the girls, and let one run.”
“The girls are the priority.” Selina asserted. It wasn’t a question. It was a rule.
Bruce hesitated.
“Yes.” He nodded.
Selina nodded in response. “I’m helping.” Not a request, again. Selina was asserting herself and her place back in Gotham. Bruce found that he didn’t really care.
“Okay.” He accepted easily.
Selina shifted. “I’m staying here.”
Bruce glanced around. He’d made a mess of the main apartment, but it was by no means unlivable.The bedroom was mostly untouched. The bed was a little stripped down, sure, but the sheets were clean. “Okay.” he responded again, a little more slowly this time.
Selina crossed her arms. “Oh- and I want a way to contact you. And actual way to contact you.”
Bruce sighed. “Okay.”
It took Bruce a couple of hours to step up a burner phone for both him and Selina, and for him to deliver one to Selina. It was a simple flip-phone, with the essentials. Probably lower tech then Selina was used to, but she didn’t complain when Bruce returned with it. She only rolled her eyes and told him she’d ‘see him around’. Which Bruce took as a hint to leave her alone.
So he did.
He considered for moment making a something similar for Gordon. He was attached to the symbol, but it was a very inefficient way of communicating. At the same time, he knew it meant something more now, and so he wanted it to stay.
It needed to stay.
He’d have to talk to Gordon about that.
After a final once-over of his patrol route that night, Bruce called it a night.
He practically collapsed into bed once he had finally finished detailing the events of the evening in his journal.
He remembered vaguely that Alfred had told him something about waking early the next morning. Bruce rolled over, resolving to set an alarm in a couple of minutes.
The sunlight woke him.
It streamed through his half-open curtains and flooded the room.
Bruce rolled over stiffly and covered his eyes with an arm.
It was not early.
Bruce cursed, wrestling out of his sheets and stumbled down the hall, pulling a shirt as he did. He ascended the stairs, rubbing his eyes.
“I thought I had something this morning.”
Alfred was sitting on the side of the table, one leg crossed over the other and reading the paper. “Just some papers being delivered.” He responded carefully.
The accountants again. Bruce internally translated.
“You need the sleep more.” Alfred continued.
That was fair, Bruce probably did, but that didn’t keep the sinking feeling that he had let down one more person.
“You should eat something.” Alfred gestured to the display of breakfast set out on the table. He flipped the paper and folded it over to see the word search.
Bruce pulled the other chair at the table out and sat with a soft groan.
“Sore?” Alfred prompted, producing a pen and studying the word search with careful eyes.
“A little.” Bruce rubbed the back of his neck.
“Are you still planning the take down of that trafficking ring tonight?” Alfred penned in a word.
“Yeah.” Bruce began to eat slowly. “Selina’s back in town. She’s helping.”
Alfred looked over at Bruce, studying him for a moment. Bruce avoided his gaze. “What?” he muttered.
Alfred returned his gaze back to the word search. “Nothing.”
“Mmhhmm.”
“Support for a proposal. Four letters.” Alfred responded, completely ignoring Bruce’s disbelieving response to what he had said before.
“Knee.” Bruce hauled himself to his feet. “I’m going shower.” he muttered.
Alfred waved him away. “Thank you.”
Bruce grunted in response.
The sun hadn’t even set before Selina texted, asking to meet. Bruce agreed, apprehensive as to what this may mean.
“You left your stuff here.” Selina started. “I kept an eye on it, but this afternoon a call came up. They’ve changed the time. They’re doing the exchange soon.”
“Soon?” Bruce questioned, crossing the space to pull the recording of the call.
“Sundown.”
Bruce stopped. “Sundown?” he repeated.
Selina nodded. “That’s in two hours.”
Bruce inhaled quickly. Swore under his breath.
“What?” Selina looked a little panicked.
Bruce shook his head. “That’s not enough time for Gordon.”
“Gordon? The Lieutenant?”
“He's a Captain now. You didn’t think I was going to go in alone?” Bruce stared at her incredulously.
Selina opened her mouth.
“I need Gordon’s people.” Bruce insisted, not letting her get a word out. Perhaps that is was triggered her rather aggressive response.
“No, you don’t!” she snapped. “I’ve seen you barrel your way through the guards at the Iceburg Lounge. You took down a whole crowd of Riddler lookalikes on the top of rafters! You don’t need a handful of policemen to help you take down a trafficking ring.”
Bruce looked up at her. She was probably right, but Bruce didn’t feel comfortable going into the exchange with so little information. “You had to save me from getting shot in the face during that rafter fight.” He responded flatly.
Selina stared back at him, and he could see her remember the moment. He had gotten a shotgun blast to the chest, which had been less then comfortable, and he had been hanging off the side of the platform.
Selina had jumped the riddler-goon and pulled Bruce up from what would have been a pretty awkward way to die.
She’d kissed him. Assured him everything was going to be okay.
It had not been okay. Bruce still sometimes has nightmares about that night. What could have happened.
It had been a long time since he had new nightmare material.
“You’re really heavy by the way,” Selina said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Bruce’s eyes widened and he could feel the heat rushing to his face. “It’s the suit.” he responded without thinking.
Selina laughed her face breaking into a genuine smile.
Bruce’s heart pounded in his chest. He pushed away the realization that Selina was incredibly pretty when she laughed.
He’d never seen her laugh before he realized. At least not like this.
Stay on task.
Selina stood and paced the room, her laughter quickly fading into the air. “We have to do this.” She said, her voice sure.
Bruce stared out the window, and to the street below. The late afternoon sun revealed the busy sidewalks as people hurried home.
“Yeah.” He responded.
If he was so worried about not having enough information, then he’d ought to get the information he needed.
It turned out that Selina was a terrible at stakeouts. At least, Bruce’s kind of stakeout. Gordon wasn’t so bad, he talked a little at first, attempting small talk, but it only took a few hours to settle down and leave Bruce to his silence.
Selina on the other hand, refused to leave Bruce alone to his silence for too long. She could always find something to point out, something to talk about in a low whisper. Most of it was mildly useful, which annoyed Bruce. The rest of it was just interesting, and Bruce almost didn’t mind hearing her talk.
She talked to him like he was a person, not a legend or a cryptid. Or a Prince who needed to be appeased. Like a person. A human being.
Bruce liked the way she talked to him.
He was less able to deal with the casual way she touched him. Brushing shoulders, grabbing his arm loosely, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. It was incredibly distracting, but Bruce didn’t really know how to tell her that.
Alfred had never been very physically affectionate, and Bruce didn’t really blame him for it. It had been hard accepting any kind of affection after his parents passed. But being touched? That had been even harder. It just reminded him of his mother. The way she would scoop him up into her arms after a game of hide and seek or cuddle up with him when she tucked him into bed. She was always finding new ways to show him how much she loved him.
On her good days at least.
Selina of course, had no way of knowing this, and Bruce said nothing, choosing to ignore the way her presence so close next to him calmed his ever-present nerves about the exchange. There was so much that could go wrong, and the urge to keep Selina out of as much danger as possible was remarkably strong. As much as that would piss Selina off.
Selina tapped his wrist with two fingers. Bruce shifted in response.
“What?” he asked, pulling his arm out of reach.
“Here he comes.” Selina pointed with a white-clawed finger and glanced at his arm briefly. “See you on the other side,” she whispered.
Selina gathered her supplies, pulled her ski mask over her face, and scrambled out of sight. Bruce waited for her to leave before double and triple checking his belt, and hurrying to his place.
Max Wilkes and Peter Louis were not very good human traffickers it seemed, which was good for Bruce.
They argued with the pair picking up the girls for a couple minutes about payment, before one of the bigger ones pulled out a gun and pointed at Peter’s head. Then the girls started getting loaded up into the nondescript white van.
Bruce looked for Selina on the nearby rooftops. She was crouched behind a pile of trash roughly fifteen feet away from Bruce. She looked antsy as the men picking up the girls harassed the group, verbally and physically.
Bruce kept himself tense, ready to jump into action if Selina decided she could only take so much.
Selina, in her defence, did not jump into action too early.
Man two slammed the door of the van shut when the girls finished loading in, and Bruce jumped over the side of the building.
It was action time.
He let his cape fan out behind him as he jumped, and the group of four men screamed.
Bruce landed heavily on the top of the van, and the man with a gun took the opportunity to pull his gun and shoot at Bruce.
Two of three shots missed, and the final bullet struck his armor at a angle and got stuck in the chest plate.
Bruce leaped from the van and smacked the guy with a gun down, before turning and kicking Max full in the face. Selina jumped Peter and knocked him out, while this second van man took a run for it. Bruce glanced at Selina briefly.
“I got this.” She assured, already going to get the van door open.
Bruce nodded, kicking the gun out of the way and grappled onto the rooftops. He found the man running in the alleyways easily.
Bruce chased him along the rooftops for a couple minutes, before he found a good place to do what he planned to.
He reloaded his grapple and aimed for his feet. The line wrapped around the man’s feet and Bruce hooked it on a nearby pipe, hanging him six-feet above the alleyway ground.
“Please don’t kill me!” the man screamed.
“Who are you trafficking for?” Bruce growled.
“No-body- no-body!” He screamed.
“You’re lying.” Bruce stepped forward. “Try again.”
“No-body! I swear! We sell ‘em online. Dark web pages!” He nodded vigorously. Or at least tried too.
Bruce curled his lip. “I’m going to cut you down.” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re going to run to GCPD and tell Lieutenant Jim Gordon everything you just told me. Or I will find you.” He jerked forward. “Do you understand?”
“Yeah! Yeah!”
“Good.” Bruce cut the rope and grappled back to the rooftops, waiting for a second to make sure the man ran in the correct direction, before sprinting back the way he came.
He could hear the sirens wailing through the streets, and by the time he arrived back at the pickup stop it was cluttered with law enforcement and ambulances.
Bruce’s heart pounded in his chest. No Selina in the crowd.
It was irrational to think that something had happened within the time he had gone, but Bruce couldn’t help the anxiety that built in his chest.
She can take care of herself. Bruce reassured himself.
Wait.
Someone was on the rooftop behind him. He heard the scruff of their feet on the ground.
Bruce turned to find Selina behind him. Very close behind him.
“That looks like it hurts.” She pointed at his chest piece.
Bruce looked down, alarmed to find that the bullet lodged in his chest-plate has gone in deeper then he had realized. As the adrenaline of the fight faded Bruce realized the impact had probably done more damage then he had originally thought.
A bruised rip, at least.
Selina raised and eyebrow.
“It’s not that bad.” He assured her.
Selina rolled her eyes. “If you say so.” She glanced over his shoulder. “We should go.”
Bruce stared at her blankly, trying to understand what she meant.
“I should go.” she corrected.
“Oh.” Bruce licked his lips.
Selina started to leave before turning around. “I’m going back to Bludhaven tonight.” she informed him. “Did what I came here to do.” She gestured behind him.
Bruce was struck with a pang in his chest. There was something at the tip of his tongue, something that began to eat at him. He didn’t know how to say it.
Selina stared at him expectantly.
Say something. He screamed at himself. I missed you. It was good to see you. Anything Bruce.
Selina sighed softly. Bruce took a half-step toward her.
The last time she had left he had almost kissed her. Selina had pulled away. Bruce didn’t think he had the guts to do try that again. It had been alone time, doubtless Selina had moved on from him.
Bruce didn’t know if he had moved on from her.
Selina padded over to him, crowding up his space. She gazed at him, looking for something. Bruce too slow deep breaths, it felt like he couldn’t breathe with Selina so close. Stealing his air.
She chuckled softly, giving him a small smile and lifting onto her toes to press her lips against his.
She pulled away quickly. “I missed you too,” she breathe, her words hush against his cowl.
And then she was gone.
“Take care of yourself,” Bruce whispered to the empty air.