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He's been at his desk all morning, drafting and editing blueprints and keeping an eye on the various screens surrounding him in case any interesting news crops up. The doorbell sounds in the middle of drawing a straight line; the ruler shifts just enough to ruin the perfect vertical. Edward sets the pen down with an annoyed huff and glances up at the screen showing a feed right outside his front door.
“You'd better be home, Eddie,” Selina says, voice coming in quiet but clear through the speaker. She’s peering right into the camera through her goggles, one arm hold across her side, and Edward can see how tense she is even through the screen.
Catsuit, mask, and goggles on, and she's clearly wounded - somebody has been busy. He wastes no time on questions. “Door's open,” he says as he presses the button. Selina, likewise, wastes no time slipping inside.
She's pulling her goggles and mask off as Edward enters the room to meet her. They get set on a nearby chair before Selina flings herself onto the couch with a groan. “Rough day?” Edward asks, coming to a stop right in front of her.
“You could say that,” she sighs. She lifts her arm to show off the gash in the left side of her suit, just under her ribcage. The surrounding material is stained with her blood. “Went after a few valuable pieces in some artist’s apartment. Little did I know, somebody else was planning on hitting there, too.”
“Tell me you did worse to the other guy.” Edward perches himself on the couch beside her, fingers gingerly touching around her wound. It’s hard to tell how bad it is with the suit still on. “Knife?”
Selina scowls. “He jumped me from a closet. Took the bag I'd already filled and left before I could get him back.” She stretches her legs out, one ankle hooked over the other. “Bastard. I'll find him later.”
He wants to take a closer look, but that will require… “Selina,” Edward says, glancing up. She isn't looking at him; her eyes are on the ceiling, frown still twisting her face as if she's planning an elaborate revenge scheme. Knowing her, she likely is. Edward doesn't envy the man who knifed her and stole her prizes, should she find him (and he has little doubt she will). “Selina,” Edward says again. She meets his eyes for the briefest moment. “I am going to have to request you remove your suit in order for me to treat your wound.”
The scowl lifts into a smirk. Selina rests the back of her head against the couch cushions, eyes closed. “Nice try, Eddie.”
He holds back a sigh. It's never simple. “The suit is in the way,” he says. “If Diedre were home, I would ask for her to take care of it, but -”
“And where are Diedre and Nina?” Selina’s question cuts in smoothly. Edward scowls.
“But, ” he continues with a huff, “the girls are out for the weekend. It's just me. And if you had a problem with the idea of me treating it, I doubt you would have come here in the first place.”
Selina laughs, light and airy. She's tired. Edward suspects she chased her mysterious competition for a ways before dropping in to recover. “Don't flatter yourself, Eddie, yours just happened to be the closest place to me.”
“Well.” He stands up, hands on his hips. “Unless you'd like to treat yourself, I insist on having a clear -”
She interrupts again. She does rather like doing that. “So long as you don't stare at my chest. Otherwise, I'll have to claw your eyes out.” And, ah, the threat gets said so sweetly. It's almost an art, how she does it. But the victory is his. Edward smiles at her.
“With luck, it won't be bad enough to require stitches. I'll be right back.” He inclines his head to her before striding off to the bathroom to grab a first aid kit. He's back in less than a minute - enough time to watch Selina unzip her suit and push it off to the side enough to expose the underlying wound. Edward's eyes linger on her chest for two seconds, just to take stock of her bra (black, and disappointingly modest) before dropping to the cut. It's bleeding freely, but not at a rate that he would rank as alarming.
Edward sits down in his previous spot, kit in lap and hands roaming the area directly around the wound. It doesn't look terribly deep, but it's long, and he judges it would be stupid not to stitch it closed. “I hope you like needles, my dear,” he says, dropping his hands to dig through the kit.
“I've had my share of stitches,” Selina says, but her tone doesn’t quite hide her displeasure.
Disinfectant on the cotton. First step. “This,” Edward says as he holds it up, “may sting a little.” He swipes it over the gash carefully, and Selina hisses. He does it again, then drops the cotton in favor for a fresh one. More disinfectant, a few careful passes around the wound this time, and then it's just a matter of cleaning up the blood that’s trickled down her side. Selina grumbles the whole time.
Closing the wound comes next. Edward threads the needle, then pauses to raise a silent question to Selina. She shakes her head and, he can tell, forces herself to relax. “I don't need anything.”
“Very well.” Edward pierces her skin with the needle and she hisses again, but she keeps still. “Did you get a look at the man responsible?” he asks as he pulls it through. “Face, outfit, any distinguishing features or, perhaps, weapons?”
Her hand worms its way to his knee and her fingers dig in. He lets them. “Nothing that would make him stand out, but enough I could find him again if I tried. He wasn't - sss - he wasn't dressed like anybody’s hired goon.”
He hums. “Good. I would have heard about it had there been plans in the works, or else it would mean my own men are either dead or turncoats. Which would be dreadfully annoying either way.” Halfway there. He's moving slow, but better to be slow and careful than risk a shoddy job. “But if you've any information at all, I can have -”
“No, ” Selina says, punctuating this with a tighter squeeze on his knee. “Thank you for the offer, but I'll find him myself.”
“Well.” He hopes her nails aren't poking holes through the fabric. These pajamas are new. “If you ever change your mind…”
“Noted. Just finish, Eddie.”
He does. He admires his handiwork as he cleans the remaining blood off of her skin with a fresh wad of cotton. “At least you did get something out of your attempt,” he says lightly. “You'll have a nice new scar.” Selina laughs as Edward secures a bandage over the closed-up wound, and only then does she actually relax. Her hand massages his knee for a moment - a silent apology that feels nicer than it has any right to.
“Need some water?” Edward asks as he neatly packs his supplies back in the kit. He casts an eye over his knee as he does so; no holes. Good. “Or a bowl of milk?”
She rewards his easy joke with a gentle shove. “Water would be wonderful, thank you.”
Edward leaves her to zip her suit back up as he returns the kit and fetches a glass. Three cubes of ice, filtered water from the fridge, and a bendable straw in green. When he hands it to Selina, she ignores the straw and downs it all one go. He can't help but watch the way her throat bobs.
“Much better,” she says, her voice a purr as she sets the glass on the nearby table. Selina eyes him for a moment, then pats the spot on the couch next to her. Right side, the unwounded one. “Come here.”
He knows better than to argue. Edward sits and Selina immediately presses up against him, head coming to rest on his shoulder, wiggling for a moment until she’s perfectly sure she’s comfortable. Edward drapes one arm over her, fingers lightly brushing against her left side, just below the wound. His chin comes to rest on top of her head as she lets out a small hum.
“I imagine you’d be much more comfortable in a bed,” he says. “We’ve a spare bedroom you can use for the night.”
“I’m comfortable where I am,” Selina replies, and Edward can tell by her lazy drawl that she’s already starting to doze off. The night really has exhausted her. “Mm, but I’m surprised to hear you complain. Nervous about having a pretty girl sleeping next to you, Eddie?”
He grins, more for his own benefit since she can’t see it. “Considering I have two doing just that most of the time? Hardly.” It earns him a sleepy laugh and he quietly beams. Unfortunate circumstance aside, it really is nice to have her over. It’s been a long while since she last dropped by his place (four days from two months, to be exact) and having company while Diedre and Nina are taking the weekend for themselves is nice.
After a moment, Edward moves his chin and pulls his arm back to settle his hand in Selina’s hair. She lets out a long, satisfied sigh as he begins to rub her head. “If you stop doing that,” Selina mumbles, wiggling more firmly into his side, “I am going to murder you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” Until he dozes off himself, anyway. He just might at that; this is comfortable, more than comfortable, and he wouldn’t mind falling asleep like this. But there’s a nagging worry in the back of his mind that if he does, Selina’s wound is going to get worse and he’ll wake up to find her dead or dying or with a severe infection -
The cut wasn't deep enough to be life-threatening, and he treated it properly, it’ll be fine -
His fingers falter and Selina tuts so quietly under her breath he thinks he might have imagined it. She looks relaxed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Asleep, or on the cusp of it. Edward resumes the head rub and the ghost of a smile flickers onto her face. She’ll be fine, he chides himself, but the worry’s there now and he knows it won’t simply go away.
He loses track of time for a little after that. His hand keeps moving automatically, gently caressing Selina’s scalp and feeling the soft hair between his fingers. He keeps his eyes on the television across from the couch, on but muted so it won’t wake her, taking in the news by the subtitles and scrolling marquee at the bottom. Nothing of note pops up, so he loses interest eventually. Without something to occupy him, he absolutely will fall asleep, and his mind will not thank him when he wakes.
Edward lets out a soft sigh and considers the sleeping woman against him. He should have offered her something else to wear apart from the torn and bloody suit, but it’s too late now. He can do that later; something of Diedre’s might fit. She's comfortable, and he’s loathe to move her, but he’s also loathe to fall into the trap of dozing off. He needs to stay awake, just in case, and to be productive
She barely stirs as he moves away and off the couch. He keeps his hands on her as he does, ensuring she doesn’t fall abruptly to the side. After a small hesitation, he gathers her - carefully - in his arms, one hooked under her knees and one under her shoulders. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand upright with her cradled against him and he almost drops her at first. It’s not so much that she’s heavy as it is that he’s unused to lifting and carrying anything heavier than, say, a moderately sized box of parts. (But Nina or Diedre, he thinks with an amused inward laugh, would be able to do this with no effort at all).
Selina murmurs sleepily as Edward carries her over to the guest bedroom, but still she doesn’t wake. The door is, thankfully, already open and he carries her (mostly) easily enough to the bed. Somehow, he manages to get her set down and the covers pulled back and over her without her rousing from her slumber. Either she’d completely exhausted herself from her little adventure earlier, or she’s not as light a sleeper as he’d believed. Or perhaps it’s both. After pulling off her boots and tucking her feet under the covers, Edward lingers at the bedside, eyes sweeping over her face. Her makeup is still on, unsmudged, and he reminds himself to offer her some of their makeup removal when she wakes up. If she’ll want.
If she’ll wake up. The thought isn’t loud, but it’s there , and it’s enough to set his nerves tingling anxiously. She’ll be fine, he reasons, but the doubt is going to fester until it’s been proven otherwise. Annoying. Edward swallows and turns to head out of the room, determined to block it all out by burying himself in work for the next while.
---
Edward stops at some point to check in on her. After all, it’s been nearly four hours and the fact that he hasn’t heard a thing is beginning to gnaw at him. Selina isn’t on her back like when he’d first laid her down, but curled on her good side with one hand under her head and her other dangling off the edge of the bed. He stops in the doorway and watches the way her chest is rising and falling, counting her breaths until he’s satisfied there’s nothing out of place.
He’s about to turn to leave when her breathing changes. Selina moves, eyes cracking half-open as she stretches like, yes, a cat. “Eddie?” she murmurs, voice thick still with sleep.
Even more hopeful. The persistent worry in the back of his head finally dies down. Edward crosses the room and sits on the edge of her bed, aiming a smile down at her. “Good morning, Selina. Sleep well?” He lifts a hand to hover over her side. “How’s it feel? I ought have brought you pain-killers before, I -”
“Please, Eddie,” Selina says through a yawn. “I’ve had worse. Sweet of you to worry, though.” She draws herself up to a sitting position and rubs her knuckles against her eyes. “How long was I out?”
Edward props an elbow on his thigh and rests his cheek in hand. He keeps his eyes on her. “Five hours, or just about,” he replies. “It’s a quarter past six in the morning.”
She groans. “Oh, great. I didn’t mean to be away for so long. My cats are going to be upset with me.” She grimaces and a hand goes to her stomach. “And I can’t exactly stop for breakfast on the way dressed like this.”
His mouth twists into a smirk. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for breakfast. And if you’d like to borrow an outfit, Diedre won’t mind. So long as you return her clothes eventually, of course.”
She agrees to both. There’s plenty of mix in the cabinet to make two servings of pancakes, so Edward sets about fixing plates up for both of them. Eggs on the side; over-easy for Selina and over-medium for himself. She does go with the milk this time, and he tries but fails not to smile. It’s halfway through breakfast when Edward feels Selina’s eyes on him, scrutinizing him. He straightens in his seat, flattered that she’s so clearly admiring him while -
“You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?” Selina asks, and he deflates a little. Oh. “You look dead on your feet.”
He meets her gaze for a second before refocusing on his eggs. Needs more pepper. “I decided to get some more work done while you slept. It was a productive night, even with your, ah… Visit.” He almost said “intrusion” there but that would imply she was unwelcome, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. That, and no need to accidentally offend her. She might just leave sooner if he did.
She laughs, and it fills him with warmth. He likes her laugh; even if it’s teasing, it’s always good-natured. Pleasant. “You were awake when I got in, too. Are you planning to sleep at all?”
A moment to think while he finishes his eggs. “Later, perhaps. I’ve gotten good headway, but I still have a lot to work on. The sooner I get it done, the sooner I can move on to other things.” And avoid sleeping. He’d rather stay up for a few days straight and get some work done than try to warm a large bed by himself. Diedre and Nina always try to convince him to stick to a schedule when they’re gone, but it’s usually too miserable to attempt. He isn’t entirely sure when he stopped being able to sleep alone. Some years by now, he thinks. Better to be productive.
Selina makes a noise of what could be construed as disapproval. Still, they finish their breakfast without fuss, and Edward cleans up as Selina saunters off to the bathroom. He finishes before she’s out - what is she doing in there, fixing her hair? - and he takes the time to pull a simple shirt and pair of jeans from Diedre’s closet. He casts around for a bag, too; better than carrying her clothes home by hand, probably.
Selina is back in the living room when Edward comes out with his arms full. She’s removed her lipstick and eyeshadow, he notes as he sets bag and folded clothes down on the table. Ah, good, he didn’t have to offer after all. Selina nods a thanks to him, brushing a hand against his arm as she walks over to inspect the shirt he’d picked out. “I’ll return them as soon as I can,” Selina says, peeling off her gloves and placing them in the plastic bag alongside her mask and goggles.
“No rush,” Edward replies. He leans against the table, waiting for her to head back into the bathroom and change - but she doesn’t. She studies her nails for a moment, and it’s easy to tell there’s something on her mind. He’s about to ask what when she lifts her head to look at him.
“The cats can wait a bit longer, I think,” Selina says. Edward blinks. “I left them plenty of food before I left, after all.” Is she staying? She’s staying. Why is she staying? His mind jumps to the (illogical) conclusion that she’s feeling sick, that there is an infection after all. Before the worry can spiral further, Selina’s talking again. “Be honest with me, Eddie: You won’t get any sleep at all if I leave, will you?”
Oh. That was his second guess. Edward clears his throat and straightens up, arms folded across his chest. “Surely my dark circles aren’t that bad.” Except they are, he knows that. He’s neglected to cover them up yet. Other priorities.
Selina sighs. “Come here.” Before he can protest, she has him by the elbow and is dragging him back to the guest bedroom. “You’ll thank me later.”
An excuse catches in his throat. After all, what’s the harm? It would be different if she were shoving him into bed and leaving, but she’d made it quite clear she’s sticking around for a while. He certainly won’t say no to that. And he won’t deny that getting rest will only boost his work productivity later. “If you wanted me in your bed so bad,” he finds himself saying as Selina pulls him in after her, “you had only to ask, my dear.”
“Shut up and lie down,” is her slightly-amused response. Edward obeys, letting Selina draw the covers up over both of them. They’re both on their sides, facing each other, and Edward offers her a grin. She rolls her eyes and sighs, but gestures for him to flip around. He does so with only a momentary hesitation, and then - warmth pressed up against his back, arms around him, breath tickling his neck. “Comfortable?” she asks, voice low. It’s all enough to faintly stir at his belly.
“Wonderfully,” Edward replies. He removes his glasses and sets them on the bedside table before wiggling backward, eyes slipping closed. Selina’s hand smooths over his arm until it comes to a stop on top of his. He wants to turn his hand over, entangle his fingers with hers, but he can’t make himself. This is hardly the first time they’ve shared a bed, but intimacy in it is… Well. That hasn’t happened. He’s never been sure if he wants it to. Too many other variables at play in her life. But if she should want...
“Selina,” he says after a moment. Her name feels heavy on his tongue, weighed down by hopes and worries and questions he doesn't quite know how to voice all in one. He isn't sure what to say, and it bothers him. He isn't sure what he wants , and that bothers him even more. It's only a few seconds of awkward silence until he settles on, “Thank you,” and that doesn't feel heavy enough. There should be more to it
She laughs, her breath blowing out over his neck and, oh, that feels nice. “Thank me after you've actually gotten some sleep, okay?” Her fingers wind their way through his, curling lightly against the underside of his palm. Edward swallows, heart racing, worried that he won't be able to get to sleep like this at all.
Selina dozes off again soon. He can tell by the way her breathing softens, evens out. His hand is still in hers, but it gets less nerve-wracking and more comfortable with each passing moment. (And Edward knows he's being ridiculous about this all in the first place; they've kissed before, for god’s sake, so why in the world is the hand holding making him shy?) He listens to her breaths, aims to match them, and he does eventually drift off.
---
He fully expects to wake up to a cold bed, but he doesn’t. When he stirs back into consciousness, he can feel Selina curled against him, her hand still loosely holding his. She must have needed the extra sleep. Edward brings his free hand to brush over the back of hers, marveling at how smooth the skin is. His own hands aren’t so free. Even wearing gloves, working so much on machinery and electronics with his hands is bound to leave marks. That, and he picks and chews at them far too often when he’s idle or perturbed. The gloves don’t always help that, either.
He bets the rest of her isn’t so smooth. She’ll certainly get a scar from her newest wound, and Edward is positive there are others, somewhere, hidden under clothes. His fingers itch with the sudden desire to find them, to trace them until the shapes etch themselves into his memory. He runs a thumb over her knuckles instead and finds himself wondering if they’ve ever split. He’s split his own numerous times. Bad temper control. Diedre and Nina have been helping him work on it.
There’s a soft sigh against the back of his neck. Still asleep, he thinks. His fingers trail from her hand to her wrist, continue upward until he hits the edge of her sleeve, and then back down again. It's sometime during the fifth pass of this motion that Selina stirs. Edward freezes, his fingers resting lightly against her wrist.
“Morning, Eddie,” Selina mumbles. He expects her to move, to take her hand away, but she doesn't. She does yawn, but her head nestles right back against his neck. “Sleep okay?”
He resumes the motion, and she makes no comment. “Well enough.” For the first time, his eyes venture to the bedside clock. The display reads 12:47pm. He'd wager he's been awake for about fifteen minutes. “It's almost one,” he adds. “I'd say you've gotten quite a bit of rest today. I hope it's helped.”
“Sometimes all you need is to spend half the day in bed.” Selina does pull away then, during the eighth pass, and the sudden absence of her hand is momentarily strange. He hears Selina roll over to her back and he pulls himself into a sitting position. She’s sitting up too, examining the rip in her suit. “I guess I’ll have to sew this back up when I’m home,” she says with a sigh. “At least the blood came out easily enough.”
He takes a closer look. Ah. She must have cleaned it in the bathroom earlier. No wonder she’d taken so long in there. “I could take care of it here, if you’d like. It wouldn’t take long at all.”
Selina shakes her head. “No, I’ll deal with it. You’ve done enough, and I’ve already taken up plenty of your time. Besides, I really should be getting home. The cats will worry.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stretches before getting up.
“I can drive you home,” he offers. “If you’ll allow me to put some proper clothes on, first.” Cute as they are, the Riddler tries not to make it a habit of going out in public in his pajamas. It wouldn’t do much for his image. “You can take the time to change as well.”
She thinks it over for a second before shaking her head. “Nice of you to offer, but I’ve got a few stops to make along the way. This Cat has a mouse to catch.” She smirks, and Edward feels his heart flutter. “And thank you for your help. I’ll try not to keep Diedre’s clothes for too long.”
He follows her out of the room and over to the table where the clothes are still sitting, broad smile on his face. “Oh, it was my pleasure. You should drop by more often, you know. Not just when you’re in need of stitching up. Of course, I don’t mind getting to put my hands on you.” He leans against the table, tossing a wink her way when she looks at him.
“Well,” she says lightly, “better your hands than most. I’ll see what I can do, hm?” She returns the wink and heads for the bathroom with the change of clothes in hand. Edward watches her until she closes the door.
She’s back out a few minutes later, and Edward’s pleased to note that Diedre’s clothes fit Selina almost perfectly. “Waiting to show me out?” Selina asks, raising a brow at him. She slings the bag with her own clothes over one shoulder and heads for the door, leaving Edward trailing after her. Her boots are sitting right there, and she sets the bag down in order to pull them on. “You know, I can always come by again later when I need to get these stitches taken out.”
He can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Done and done, my dear.” She’ll be back, and she’ll be back soon. The thought sends a small tingle of excitement through him and, internally, he chides himself for feeling like a lovestruck teenager. But… He cycles through the feelings she’s elicited in him during the past few hours - and, if he’ll be honest, during the past few weeks. Perhaps he really is lovestruck. Isn’t that a thought? He’ll have to talk it over with the girls when they return.
She’s almost out the door before Edward thinks to stop her with a touch on the shoulder. Selina turns to him and he reaches for her face, pulling her down for a kiss. It’s deeper and firmer than usual, a silent admission of the feelings bubbling in him. Selina’s content hum into his mouth sends a delicious rush of warmth through his body. Edward steps away before the giddy dizziness overtakes him and he draws in a deep breath before saying, “Take care, Selina. I look forward to seeing you later.”
The smile she gives him is beautiful. “It’ll be before you know it, so try not to miss me too much. Goodbye, Eddie.” And then she’s gone. Edward stands by the front door for a good two minutes after closing it behind her, forehead pressed against the wood, relishing in the warmth she left tingling in him. He wonders - dares to hope, even - if she feels the same.