I'm a bit of a hypocrite I suppose… I could have my own exhibit in the zoo! I'd be trapped behind these bars of iron, staring lustfully out at the world I'll never be able to freely roam again unless I break free and ride a unicycle down the highway to Paradise. But enough with Cold Play. This year, the fic isn't sad. Or in my mind, it isn't. It's out-of-character and unrealistic, but I'm craving some Robin… Happy Late Mother's Day! (or "A Day of Mourning for the Motherless").
Seeing Robin without Batman was like seeing a peanut butter sandwich, completely void of jelly, stuck between two pieces of a wheat bread without even the slightest hint of delicious white to their surfaces. It was like seeing one of the preppy jock boys in your school without the tall black Nikes' socks and the black Adidas sandals. It was like seeing a member of the feminine origin out in a public area without a device of the cellular form in her hands, her thumbs clicking fast and her attention drawn from where it should've been. In other words, it wasn't rare, but it was lingering on the edge of being very uncommon.
It seemed that today, the Nikes and Adidas trucks had broken down along the highways on their way to their jock and sports fan-centered stores, because the Boy Wonder occupied this rooftop with no other, his face set and his stare hard. He longed to check the time more and more as the sun became centered directly above him, almost like a spotlight of sorts, meaning that Batman would begin to inquire of his whereabouts pretty soon. It had to be nearly noon, a realization that made his black glove-covered fingers tap anxiously against his thighs in no particular rhythm.
Wally could defend Robin, keeping his secrets hidden with the best of skill, but the speedster would crumble instantly once the Bat Glare was brought into play. He was strong in this game, but his opponent was using a tactic that was cutting it pretty close to cheating and he hadn't been taught how to defend against it. On this playing field, the speedsters were known well for their defense, but they were nothing against the prowess of a single member of the Bat Family.
Even weeks of specific one-on-one training for this kind of situation had done nothing besides amuse the hell out of Robin at how easily his best friend could be scared. A simple narrowing of his eyes could have the ginger cowering at his feet, hugging his legs and demanding to know what it was that he had done in an annoyingly high pitched voice. He would definitely abuse that later, but now. Business was calling and he was prioritizing. Although his amusement and Wally were both high on that list, far above this particular task, this thing he was doing was far more necessary as his patience continued to dwindle.
Behind a thin domino mask, eyes of the darkest blue darted to-and-fro, taking in the tall concrete shapes that stood out against the sky, hiding him and only worsening the impatience that wrecked his systems. Before, the engines had maintained it well, but now the breakers had imploded, the impatience spilling out through the cock pit and drowning the lone pilot in its toxic make-up. A scowl replaced the light-set downwards pull of his pale lips, the change of force in his emotions whirling him around fast on the balls of his feet.
"Hurry up!" Robin's voice slipped out in an antsy whine, giving him need to cough it back into a strained frustration. "If this wasn't important, I wouldn't have called this an emergency! I know you're here! Batman's going to come after me soon!"
His teeth grinded hard together, his hands in tight fists before a charming chuckle ghosted through the air around him, immediately drawing a shudder from his muscular frame. Goosebumps traced his tan skin, multiplying as taunting clicks from the heels of boots began to join the delightful laughter. A mock cat hiss cut the laugh short, the teasing in the tone riding the wind like a wave and encircling him.
"Quel est-il, ma bateleur?[1]" a feminine voice, void of any true accent, sounded from behind him somewhere.
Upon recognizing both the voice and the French phrase, a grin stretched itself onto Robin's lips, narrowing his eyes into a happy Bat Glare with the intent of locating the speaker amidst the structures surrounding him.
"I just need to talk, Kyle," he spun around on his heels again, folding his arms over his chest anxiously, "and you'd never catch me up on a tight rope. I'm brave, sure, but I'd rather have the safety that comes with having a bar in my hand, like the trapeze or something."
He reached down and idly adjusted his utility belt around his waist to even it, hiding the line of where black and red intersected, his tongue absently poking between his pale lips in concentration. Once he was satisfied that it hid the line as well as the building's oddities hid the person he needed most of all at this particular moment in time, he began to hardcore search the air for the black skintight suit that regularly glinted in the sunshine.
"Aw…" a disappointed purr was whispered gently in his ear, the hot breath of another on the side of his face, the scarlet lips pulled up in a smirk, "… but kitty wants to play…"
Robin's eyes grew wide at the new presence, turning around fast and dropping into a defensive stance with his knees bent and his fists near equal with the center of his chest. His seemingly innocent eyes were met with a well curved figure, shielded only by a teasing sheet of spandex that let every little perfection stand out from behind it. Tall boots hugged muscled calves, the heel adding three inches to the woman's height and wonder to her aura of how she managed to saunter about silently without a click.
Unlike most boys his age though, his eyes were on her face, never daring to dip below her well-defined collarbones that poked out taunting from beneath the black that did indeed reflect the sun's rays off it in rectangular patterns of light. She didn't look very old, probably not a day above her mid-thirties, her hair hidden behind a mix of a hat and a swimming cap topped with cat ears of a sort. Her eyes' true color was masked with orange-tinted goggles, the mischievousness still clear behind the cover.
"Playtime can wait," Robin teased, adjusting his mask self-consciously over his features to assure himself that the smirk wasn't for a reason Batman would behead him for as he stood up to his full height. "I need… help… and you seemed the best person to go to for it."
Catwoman cocked her hip out, touching a nimble hand to it, her attention obviously got from the way her face softened and one eyebrow disappeared from sight. Her smirk only slightly dipped down in size, letting her guard down a little, lifting her goggles with one hand seeing that she was in familiar presence and had no one to hide from.
"I'm not sure I'm the best person to come to for help," she muttered, her voice gentle, just as softly poking the sharp tip of the ebony's nose.
He tensed in surprise, scrunching his nose up in discomfort and rubbing her touch from the skin, hiding a smile as he did so.
"Batman can't help you? What about Canary or Wonder Tits?"
An amused giggle fell hard past Robin's lips at the last name, hidden fast behind interlaced gloves in a failed attention to muffle the happy gasps for breath. The eyes in his masks were frowns, his eyes closed tight from the intensity of his amusement, his cheeks going pink and happy tears welling.
"Why does everyone call her that?" he snickered, calming down the best he could with a shuddery deep breath, a grin still hard on his lips.
Catwoman bat her eyelashes innocently, examining her gloved nails with false interest, "We only state what we see…"
Robin's grin cut itself cold, his eyes narrowing into little triangles now of the isosceles family, a hard frown temporarily taking over his lips.
"I technically work with her. Now I won't be able to look at her without… checking… to see if… your… observations are…" his blush grew, even as he tried massing it from his mind by running his hand along the back of his neck.
The woman chuckled warmly, her lips opening in a slow grin so her teeth scraped her bottom lip, keeping them there a moment. She shifted her weight to her other boot before she recalled there had been a reason that she was atop the roof with a boy instead of the caped man she longed to be pestering instead.
"How… may I be of assistance?" her voice was hesitant.
The brunette bent over just enough so she could be eyelevel with the boy, staring hard through the white fibers into the blues of his eyes. Her smile grew soft, a maternal tone to the edge of it, a look she wasn't used to giving off. It was the exact look Robin needed though.
"Well…" he started coolly, his eyes scanning the sky as casually as he could make it. "You know what today is, right?"
Catwoman pursed her lips, straightening up, removing her hands from her knees and adjusting her cleavage unconsciously. She knew he wanted a specific answer, but dates definitely weren't her specialty. When she worked, she worked by the shine on her desired object, whether it be a jewel the size of her head or the look in a man's eyes while she worked her wonders for him.
"May 11th?" she suggested, shrugging lightly.
Robin's frown grew uncomfortable and he turned, looking as if he was contemplating pacing or some other anxious habit, but he shook it off, avoiding her gaze.
"N… no…." anger flashed with the first syllable, fading off as worry with the second and final, the spotlight closing the main view of a single emotion that Catwoman could read from his expressions.
She was in the dark of the dead-end alley, the street lamps dead and the doors locked, her only way out being to simply leave the alley and start over on her search to find a home where she wouldn't be tossed out on the streets, clueless and alone. It peaked her curiosity, slowly killing her inner feline with every passing breath.
"Sunday?" she sighed hard, straightening up and looking down at the ebony, near close to demanding to know as her patience drew thin.
Robin seemed to be the exact same, especially when his com. link gave a loud beep to show that someone was looking for him. His eyes widened a bit, narrowing in self-frustration as faint curses spilt past his lips. He looked around, triple-checking that it was just them on the roof before he stepped forward, hugging the brunette tight, turning his head to avoid an awkward position. Catwoman jumped in surprise, immediately turning and inspecting his hands for weapons of a sort, but he was as clean as a boy who played outside all day and every day could.
'He's… he's just hugging me?' she thought to herself, beyond confused, but she returned the hug nonetheless, her confusion shining as bright as the overhead sun.
His reason only became known once he pulled back, a faint grin written onto his lips.
"Happy Mother's Day," his expression grew sheepish before he ran off, straight for the edge of the building, and jumped from sight.
His giggle was the only thing that marked the fact his hear still beat after the fall, granting her the relief from her surprise and giving her back her smirk. Her posture was regained, her arms folding over her chest after her goggles were back over her eyes, rolling them playfully.
"I'll never understand the Bat Family…"
[1] What is it, my tight-rope-walker? The bateleur thing I read on a sign at the zoo. It doesn't translate through Google, but that's the exact spelling they used. I apologize for my inaccuracy in the language, but I don't speak French. I looked up the female possession thing and used ma instead of mon like most everyone else would've. Only because French is supposed to be a romantic language. And Catwoman's a flirt. My opinion on the language hasn't changed. I have nothing against the people though. I just hate when they speak XD I imagine people hate my 'accent' too though.
Anyway. I know Catwoman isn't very motherly to Robin. I don't think they're very close. But I highly support Catwoman/Bruce because of Batman Arkham City and I figured in my head that if they ever got together, Kitty would be Robby's new momma and I love Catwoman so… I kind of just… celebration of Sunday. Sorry it's late! I haven't been able to write anything late… I'm all blocked upstairs. It's killing me because I have all of these half finished stories that I just can't… finish… Keysmash. Review?
-F.J.