SIRENS

Rating: T+

Pairing: Bruce/Selina

Genre: Romance, Suspense

Notes:

Normally I'd wait until the two characters I'm writing about have a chance to meet each other before writing a story about them, but having this idea in my head, I wanted to start writing it before I am influenced by what the show is doing and it stops being what my idea originally started as; which is the relationship between the Cat and Bat if they met when they were younger. Before the crime fighting. Before the costumes.

This is based half on what Gotham is and half on what everyone's expectations of Gotham are.

Disclaimer: Don't own Gotham.

The large doors that adorned the front of the manor began to open inwards before the curled up fist could even reach them, causing the person who had been intending on knocking on the door to take a minor step back as if contemplating whether or not the door was automatic. Before he could see his way inside, since an open door is an invitation to enter, he was stopped by the sight of a young boy peering outwards. It was not who he had been expecting to see.

"Bruce!" he exclaimed rather loudly, followed by a soft laugh. "My, my. In all my years coming here; I've never seen a Wayne actually answer his own door. Is everything alright?"

Despite smiling and laughing at his own commentary, all he was met as a response was the young boy's scowl, as Bruce Wayne's eyes narrowed while eyeing him directly. "You hadn't knocked," he stated, his voice low. "I wasn't answering, I was stepping out."

"That makes more sense," another laugh found his way out as the older man tried to look past the young boy and towards the interior of the mansion; hoping to see someone a bit older. At this, he saw as the door proceeded to close itself more. "Hey now," the elder man was quick to speak. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Master Bruce!" another voice echoed through the manor; accompanied by hurried steps heard coming from the staircase. In a matter of moments another man made his way towards the front doors; where he was greeted by the sight of the "master" of the mansion and of a newly arrived "guest". "Master Bruce," this time he spoke a bit more softly. "You don't have to get the door, that's what I'm here for," he stops as he turns towards the visitor. "Sorry about that mate, but thing around here have been… adapting quite a bit, if I say."

"Perfectly understandable," his voice perfectly polite; Bruce's eyes didn't leave his. "I'm so sorry to drop by unannounced, but this is a very, very last minute situation which I found necessary, if only respectful, to come here personally and inform."

"Let him in Alfred," the young master notes, before turning towards the living room. Alfred merely extends his arm as he presents the way; causing the older man to fake a smile and follow through. The way towards the living room, and the living room itself, was impeccable as always; something which the other man found impressive given the lack of personnel aside from the resident sarcastic servant. As they made their way into the living room, the guest took a seat on the couch, with the young master seated across from him, leg crossed over the other and hands held together with fingers intercrossed. He was eyeing him intensely, which became a bit unsettlingly.

"Oh… Erm, yes. Bruce. I know you may not remember me, but I've known you since you were a very small boy. I've been a partner of your father since quite early in the business, even," he speaks as he signals to the portrait of the recently deceased Thomas and Martha Wayne; hanging in the wall just above the currently unlit fireplace.

"I know full well who you are Mr. Earle, and I thank you for the visit. But if it's something as urgent as you implied, would it be rude to ask just what it is?" even before he had asked, he felt a nudge on his shoulder from Alfred, hinting that he was being rude, but Bruce himself had little patience for this man right now. For anyone from that company right now.

"You're really sounding like a Wayne now, always business first, pleasures later. You'll have a good future with us, when you're of age," he paused, before smiling. "Just wanted to hand these to you, personally. Didn't want to make a big show of it tomorrow on the tube."

He handed Alfred a box, which the butler took and gave to Bruce, who in turn quickly proceeded to open it. His face became a bit surprised, but his eyes were down casted as a result. He heard as Alfred muttered towards William Earle that it was a nice detail, but Bruce felt himself slip a bit. "These are…"

"Acknowledgements. For a fine work on our city and our economy. They were to be handled out on tomorrow's big event at the company's little get together, but I thought that it would be best if I just gave them to you," he motioned towards the box. Inside were two golden statues, with the inscription dedicated towards "Thomas" and "Martha". Accompanying the trophies was a sealed envelope; with the words: "Best Citizens" written on the envelope. Bruce traced his finger around the words.

"I'll leave it to you then," William Earle spoke up as he stood, while Alfred motioned towards him and lead him towards the doorway.

As the two elder men reached the doorway, Alfred was quick to speak. "While I appreciate the attention to detail and the thought Mr. Earle, I would be grateful it next time such "surprises" would be given without the boy being present. It hasn't even been a month."

"Oh, I meant no harm Pennyworth," the other responded. "I, no, we felt the boy deserved to receive some acknowledgement of the good his parents did."

"For that, you are correct. And you have my gratitude. But, he must be told if it's something about his parents beforehand. Emotionally, I don't feel he is in the right state to be receiving such news; be they good news or otherwise," Alfred spoke sternly, causing William to eye him briefly. Instead of objecting, the other man smiled and gave a brief bow.

"I apologize Pennyworth," he mentioned. "I will be more… thoughtful if another occurrence allows me to."

"Tis all I ask."

"Very well," William Earle spoke as he shook Alfred's hand, noticing how strong a grip the butler of the house and current legal guardian of the young master had. Thomas' jokes about Alfred's toughness took a new meaning to him now. "I'll leave you two then," he continued, inconspicuously rubbing his right hand. "Hope young Bruce is alright."

"He-"

"I'll go," the sudden voice interrupted what Alfred had attempted to say, causing both men to turn. Walking towards them was Bruce, holding the box in his arms, shut tightly. He walked passed Alfred and reached William, handing the box and its contents to the Wayne employee. As William gave him a confused look, which Alfred shared, Bruce spoke. "I believe you're correct in your assessment that, well, that I do need a reminder of the good my parents did."

"What have I told ya about eavesdropping Master Bruce?"

"Easy, Alfred," Bruce turned towards his butler and parental figure as he spoke. "You two weren't being that quiet to begin with. I could hear you well without having to move."

As Alfred proceeded to shake his head and mutter something to himself; Bruce turned back towards William Earle. "As I was saying, I like to hear about how the good my parents did is still being acknowledged even if they are no longer… well-"

"That they are still inspiring people and helping our community," Alfred cut in, to which Bruce allowed himself a small smile. He responded with a nod towards William, as the older man shifted his view from Bruce, to Alfred, to the box.

"I understand that," he turned back towards Bruce. "But why are you returning it to me? It is rightfully yours."

"Why indeed…"

"Because," Bruce spoke up, ignoring Alfred's input. "I want to go receive it in their name at the event."

"Master Bruce," Alfred quickly spoke, his tone becoming a bit louder. Tugging the young boy by the shoulder, he pulled him from the doorway and towards the living room again. "Mr. Earle, excuse us just a sec."

"Alfred," Bruce spoke up as he entered the living room, waiting until Alfred closed the door. "He can still hear us."

"I bloody know he can, but can you hear yourself?" Alfred's voice was softer, but still ever stern. "You hardly eat, you hardly sleep; you've become obsessed with "conquering fear and pain" so much that you've hurt yourself constantly… I could go on, hoping you can understand me."

"Al-"

"Not done," Alfred placed his index finger near the young boy's lips, causing Bruce to frown but he remained quite nonetheless. "Do you seriously think it would do you well to go to this big event, the first without the presence of the Wayne family, to receive this there? You've never been involved with the company, it's best for you to take those trophies and store them in their honor. You are not taking anything from their accomplishment by not going to pick them up at a televised event."

"I know that," Bruce spoke up, his voice mirroring Alfred's own. "But it seems fair to me. Were mom and dad still alive, they would have been there, getting thanked for all the hard work they've done. And this event doesn't have to be the first without the Wayne family. You've said it yourself; I'm a Wayne. There's still… one left…"

His voice began to crack, but before he could he was wrapped around Alfred's arms, allowing the boy to place his head against the elder man's neck. "Bruce," his voice was now soft, as paternal as Alfred's voice allowed him to. "I understand you. You want to preserve their legacy. What they did. But… you haven't gone out of this house since it happened. Reporters, employees, paparazzi… They're going to storm after you like there's no tomorrow. You don't have to put yourself through that yet."

"I know," Bruce spoke up, his voice muffled since he was so tightly held. "Can we just go, pick up the prize, and leave?"

Alfred sighed, pushing Bruce away in order to make eye contact with him. "You're dead set on this, no?"

The boy nodded.

"Very well," Alfred spoke as he separated himself from Bruce. "We'll go in, pick up the prize, and out we go. I'll just have to fend off anyone who attempts to get something out of you. Shouldn't be too hard… Might as well give the old hunting shotgun some use."

As Bruce gave a soft laugh, Alfred turned towards the door. "Might as well tell good old Mr. Earle that his trip has been for naught."

"He can hear you."

"Mr. Earle. Your trip has been for naught," Alfred spoke louder from the living room, before giving Bruce a light tug and walking towards where their guest waited. Bruce, while still smiling, turned towards the portrait of his parents. They looked younger, given that the painting was one before Martha had given birth to Bruce; and their faces seemed so serene. He could make this one sacrifice and do what his father would have done.

-0-

"Now listen up Master Bruce," Alfred's voice caused him to turn towards the front of the limousine, where his butler was seated as he drove towards the event. It had been the second time Bruce had been inside the automobile since his parents were no longer with him, the first being when Alfred picked him up at the scene of their crime. He had been trying all the way to drown out those thought with heavy rock music at the loudest setting, but Alfred's increasing voice tone finally caught his attention. "Master Bruce!"

"I hear you, what?"

"Remember what we talked about yesterday, and earlier today," he tapped on the window as he spoke, signaling that they had arrived at the scene. Bruce peeked from the window and he saw that only a few people were currently outside, but the parking lot seemed filled out to its max capacity. "We should be arriving at nearly the right time when they announce Mr. and Mrs. Wayne's acknowledgement. So it's a go in, pick it up; you give the little speech we prepared and we walk out. Not a second more, alright."

"Understood."

"Good boy, now let us find a parking spot. We're going in from the back…" as Alfred spoke, Bruce proceeded to shut down his MP3 and store it is his pocket. He hadn't been this well dressed in a while either, with matching black tuxedo attire, proper since he considered himself to be still mourning his parents. He wanted nothing flashy or disrespectful.

As Alfred parked behind the building, with only a few security guards present, he proceeded to exit the vehicle.

"Can we help you sir?" one of the guards approached Alfred as he walked from his door towards where Bruce was at.

"You most certainly can," Alfred spoke up, eyeing the younger man. "I may need to keep this under wraps and get this fellow inside from the back. I'd tell you to find me Mr. Earle, but this one here has equal if not more authority," Alfred opened the door to allow Bruce to exit as he spoke, causing the guard's eyes to bulge.

"Bruce Wayne! I wasn't informed he was coming."

"With good reason," Alfred spoke up. "Can you get us inside?"

The question was more of a command, one that the guard followed to an expertise. Within moments, Bruce found himself and Alfred being led by the guards towards a stairwell, followed by being entered by a doorway at the back of the building and into the interior. From the inside he could hear the noise, the laughter, the talking. The smell of champagne and flowers filled the area; while a soft beat music got louder with each step he took towards where they were leading them.

The place seemed fancy enough, though the back hallways were not as decorated as he suspected the main party area to be. This whole building was, as Alfred explained, just a rentable building that the Wayne Industries rented often for company events, such as this. What caught his eye mostly; however, were the many black ribbons which adorned the many halls, even this far back. He felt a little something in his chest, like a minor stab, but felt it adequate. The mere idea of the company throwing a party, with the laughter, the music, so soon didn't sit right with him. At least, these details meant someone missed his parents. Someone took the time to address their passing. Bruce made a mental note to ask who did this; they deserved a raise.

"I'll inform Mr. Earle, feel free to await here and do as you see fit."

"Thanks," Alfred mentioned as the security guard walked from the room they had been left at, possibly towards the main room where Earle was undoubtedly at. "Now, we wait," Alfred continued, directed at Bruce. "Once we get our cue, we walk up, you give your three sentence speech, and we walk. Possibly the same way we came."

"Got it," Bruce spoke, looking around. He had already memorized the plan. Only make their presence known when they were called up. Not to answer a single question; and only to deliver the speech he and Alfred had come up with. They had written the speech on an index card, carefully tugged away in the left side pocket of his coat.

His coat.

He had left his coat on the limousine.

His eyes widened a bit as he felt like smacking himself. He had made the effort not to miss a single detail from their plan, but he left the speech. He thought about trying to say it from memory, it wasn't too much written on it, but should he risk it? If he were to stutter or to pause, it could give room for anyone to interrupt or interpret it the wrong way. He had to act it professionally, genuine. And he couldn't tell Alfred this.

Alfred had made it clear he didn't like this idea. If he had to go back to the limousine, he could probably take it as an excuse to leave.

'No,' Bruce thought to himself. He couldn't let fear take over him again, not out of something this trivial. He memorized the way from where they are to where the limousine was parked. He remembered how he had not locked the door he had used, having been a bit taken aback by the nervousness of arriving. He could quickly go out, get his coat, and go back in before they were called in. Just needed an excuse.

"I need to use the bathroom," Bruce exclaimed, causing Alfred to turn towards the younger boy.

"Bathroom? Didn't ya use it before we left?"

"I'm a little nervous. Don't want to leak up there, you know?"

"…I don't know where-"

"I saw one on the way, I'll be right back," Bruce turned around and walked towards where they were brought in.

"Oi, hold up there Master Bruce," Alfred went after him as he spoke. "Alone you're not going. Don't want to cause a scene on the off-chance someone from the Gotham Gazette decides to use the throne."

"Alfred, please," Bruce turned and narrowed his eyes. "No one from the party is going to come all this way back to use the bathroom. This place has like eight different bathrooms closer to the main room than the one I saw back here. It's probably for the staff or something. A-And it was unlocked, since the door was ajar."

"But-"

"No buts," Bruce interrupted. "I need you here if they call us up. Just tell them I'll be a minute, two tops."

Alfred sighed. While it was true he wanted the young master to display more independence; going along with his late father's wishes, but sometimes he wished the young boy would be a bit more prepared when it came to this situations. With all the preparation time they had, he had hoped he would not have to be forced to deviate from plan at all. But, nature calls he supposed. "Fine, two minutes. One second longer and I'm coming after you."

"Got it!" with that said, Bruce ran out of the room, heading directly through the way they were lead in. A right; followed by another right; then walk up straight before turning one left. Following his mental instructions, he quickly found himself outside again. He moved towards the limousine, careful not to be spotted by any of the guards, before reaching the door he had been led out of. Opening it carefully not to make a sound, he quickly grabbed the coat and pulled… before he found himself unable to get it out. Was it stuck?

"Hey!" a shout was heard, but what scared Bruce the most was that it came from the inside of the limousine. "Find your own ride, I was here first!"

Bruce's eyes widened as he contemplated what he saw. His coat was caught up by a young girl, dressed in all black, with equally dark hair. She was currently laying across were he had been sitting before, on top of his coat, her arms curled and her fingernails pointed at him. Her eyes seemed to be almost glowing.

"Keep staring and you're going to lose those eyes," the girl spoke up, causing Bruce to come back to. He supposed he was asking for something like this by leaving the limousine unlocked in a city like Gotham, guards or no guards.

"Get out of my car," he spoke up, sternly. Ignoring the fact that it wasn't a car, he wasn't going to let someone, anyone, get inside. Who knows what she'd do. "Or I'm calling the guards."

"Oh no, that'd be new… Say," she stopped, eyeing the boy. "Hey! You're Bruce Wayne. I knew this fancy thing would belong to a big shot at the Wayne Company, but I didn't think it would be yours."

"And you are?" he knew most people, even thieves, would know his name or who he was; but she seemed cheery about it.

"My name's Cat."

"Cat? Like the animal?"

"No, Cat like the reporter. Of course the animal," she sat up, stretching her limbs as she did. "Guess your kicking me out, huh? Pity, this ride's pretty comfy. Beats sleeping at the station, or juvie, ick."

He was having a little hard time following this girl's, Cat's as she said, line of conversation. She seemed pretty catlike in that respect at least, the way she moved and the way she fixed her hair with her palm instead of her fingers. "Even if you are Bruce Wayne, keep staring and you're going to lose your eyes."

"I'm not staring!" he lied. "I'm waiting for you to get out."

"Mean."

"Master Bruce!"

If the cat-girl had made any attempt to actually get out of the limousine, she quickly darted back inside when she heard the older man yelling. Bruce's complexion turned pale, realizing he had probably been outside far more than the allowed two minutes. He turned to face the girl, as she shook her head and motioned him not to reveal her. He then turned to face an incoming angry Alfred.

"Just what the bloody hell did we talk about! I was very clear when I said we pick up the trophies, and leave. Or would ya rather leave now?" as Alfred approached, Bruce quickly shut the door between him and the girl.

"Sorry," he quickly replied. "At the bathroom I noticed that I left my coat out here, and in it was the speech. I didn't want to make you regret taking me here if I diverted from what we planned, so I tried to get it back quickly…" he spoke up. He was surprised how what he had originally tried to avoid Alfred finding out, save the bathroom part, was now a better cover up than the invading girl in the limousine. Which he found surprising as to why he was even helping her in the first place.

Alfred stopped a few steps from him, contemplating. "For what it's worth, this part of the parking is rather empty; but do this again and I won't follow any more of your little ideas, am I clear?"

"Clear as day."

"Good, grab the coat. It's our turn."

"Oh, right," he spoke as he opened the door, trying to avoid Alfred looking inside. He quickly placed his hand inside of the coat's pocket, earning him a glare from the girl as she watched where his hand was going, and pulled the index card out. "Got it right here."

"And the coat?"

"Don't need it, just the speech. It's not too cold out here right now," he was lying, it was cold. But he didn't think he could pull the coat out without having her move which would undoubtedly cause Alfred to notice something amiss. So he placed the index card in his pant pocket, before shutting the door tightly and walking towards the back entrance. "Let's go Alfred, let's get this over with."

As Alfred followed, the two of them made their way into the back entrance, leaving the girl alone as she stared at the roof of the limousine. Her light green eyes flickered as she contemplated what to do. She had had every intention of meeting the young heir to the Wayne family, but not right now. Still, she smiled, since he was probably the most interesting person she could meet in Gotham right now… And he was going to give a speech of some sort. She couldn't miss that.

And out of the car she went, being careful to lock every door as she did. This was Gotham after all.

The Author Rants About:

AU

As in, whether this classifies as AU or not. After only two episodes in, we hardly know anything about either Bruce or Selina to be able to write correctly about them. The result could be them getting too much out-of-character and I normally don't like that. Then again, in my defense, Gotham is based on the Batman mythos. 75-plus years of characterization and storylines to choose from, so I can't be too far off if I base them around other similar portrayals.

Bruce Wayne seems like a mix between his Batman Begins persona, similar childhood and the prominent fear element; mixed with Batman The Animated Series character who even as Bruce Wayne he was a more caring and helpful individual; as opposed to other portrayals where the Bruce Wayne persona is just an overacted playboy.

Selina Kyle dresses similar to the Tim Burton's version, helped with the fact that Camren Bicondova looks very similar to Michelle Pfeffier. Add to that a cat-burglar attitude like Anne Hathaway from The Dark Knight Rises and her catlike mannerisms from both the Animated Series and the Adam West TV Series; and you got this version of her.

All in all, I'll keep the characters as IC as I can; giving them closer characterizations to Gotham canon as more episodes come out and their characters are expanded upon. Until then, hope you all enjoy this simple story.