I've downed half a bottle of a Spanish wine. It went down nicely, and alcohol was always a good way to celebrate a successful heist. Not anything heavy like gin or vodka, I knew better than that. I had learned from experience to wait a few days after my trail had gone cold before getting blitzed.
Tonight's swipe was particularly impressive, I stole a custom diamond necklace made for the aging queen of Gotham: Sophia Starr. Then, I evaded the police, and Batman didn't catch me. Sure Batman likes to chase me, but he would never capture me. At least not while I keep our star-crossed lover act going.
"Is it even an act?" I wonder , placing the wine bottle on the coffee table. My words echoing in my mind.
I'm squatting in a luxury apartment owned by a Spanish drug lord. The wine cabinet is empty, but earlier this week it had several bottles inside. The jewelry is hidden somewhere Batman will never find it, so all I have to do is wait. He always finds me. They don't call him "The Great Detective" for nothing. I never have to wait long and tonight is no exception.
"Selina...You can't keep doing this." he says. That naturally deep voice coupled with slightly gruff undertones makes me shiver from a feeling that isn't fear.
"How did you find me?" I ask trying to feign astonishment, but my lips curling up in a smirk all the same.
"You don't exactly hide." he responds, furrowing his eyebrows, but there is a note of amusement in his voice. He knows I let him find me, that I enjoy our little game of cat and mouse.
"Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, let's have some fun." I remark in an amorous tone. His stony grimace melts into a smirk. The type of smirk that is half smile and half frown. One side of him trying to stay a hero, while another part of him gives in to temptation.
I lunge at him, cupping his jaw and pressing my lips against his. He tastes like sweat and an earthy cologne with a hint of metal. I love that taste. It comforts me. This is the type of confrontation with the enemy I enjoy. Although an enemy might be a bit of a stretch.
The kiss surprises him, but he doesn't resist. He hates himself for that. He's had an uncountable number of chances to catch the world's best cat burglar, but he always falls victim to my charms. Batman finally pulls away from our kiss.
"No. Selina, I can't keep doing this with you. You can't keep breaking the law, and I can't keep letting you get away with it. Sooner or later you are either going to get arrested, or worse, killed," he says, voice tight with frustration and reluctance. He's fighting himself, trying to use his big scary Batman voice in the hopes that he can just put up his walls and hide from me. Too bad for him, all that's coming out is his pillow talk voice.
"Funny, you should say that, Bruce," I retort slyly, walking him steadily backwards until he's against the wall. "Because as I recall, luck's been on my side so far... and so have you."
I unclasp his utility belt which draws a shaky breath from him. His lips part ever so slightly. Perfect time to add a French kiss to the equation. I see his resolve crumble as our tongues touch. His hands encircle my waist. Now, I have full control.
"So," I whisper victoriously in his ear, "why would that change now?"
I stroke his face experimentally, and when he doesn't protest, I remove his cowl. He zips down my catsuit, silent as ever. Apparently, he can't handle both hooking up and conversation.
"Cat got your tongue?" I purr teasingly.
Still, I do want an answer, despite my current distraction. When will he stop being on my side? His emotions overcome his sense of good judgement. I control those emotions, but he acts on them. A hero letting a criminal escape. He's no better than Gotham's cops. Batman just accepts sex instead of bribes.
That should feel good to me, and it does. But a small part of me is reluctant to make a man like him go against the moral code he fights so hard for. The code he rips himself apart for. Swallowing any guilt or shame, I unclasp his utility belt while he caresses my sides.
I lean down until our mouths are inches apart. My adrenaline running high. But just as our lips brush, he catches my face with both hands, keeping me from closing the distance between us.
"Selina, this ends tonight. Return the jewelry. Give up burglary. All these meaningless risks, they'll just get you killed," he says, finally utilizing his gruff, serious voice. His eyes soften, endless oceans of the darkest, richest blue. "You are better than this."
I quickly zip my catsuit up, all previous lust draining out of me. My face is hot, my pride stinging as I get to my feet.
"What do you know about me?" I hiss, voice low. His eyebrows draw together in confusion, and his mouth opens to speak, but I don't wait to hear it.
Instead, I draw my whip and slash him across the side, catching him off guard. As he doubles over, checking the wound, I flee out to the balcony and jump without hesitation.
I use my whip to latch on to a freestanding pillar, slowing down my impact towards the ground. I hit the ground running and leap on top of a moving taxi cab. It's good I was squatting in an apartment downtown; escaping is easiest in crowded places.
Opening the door, I pull the front passenger out, and drop into the front seat. I gave the driver a $50 bill. If he's smart, he won't call the police.
"Take me to The Stacked Deck," I order crossly.
The driver nods quickly, eyes wide with fear. "O-Of course. I was already driving over there, Miss."
It's Super-Babe's night at the Stacked Deck Night Club, which translates to a bunch of strippers dressed as heroes and villains. I'll fit in with everyone else.
I look out the window, trying to congratulate myself on escaping Batman again, but all I can think about is what he said: "You're better than this."
I'm not. He should know better, especially being the one who knows all of my crimes. But who's worse the thief, or the one who lets her get away? The criminal that broke the law or the police that took the bribe? Both sides are equally bad.
Because in the end, all cats are grey are gray at night.