Florence was long gone, a fading memory by the time Bruce and Selina ended up in Berlin. It was the least romantic of any city that they'd visited on their travels together, and Bruce didn't realize that it was their crossroads until it was too late.
Before, they'd alternated who picked where they'd go next. He picked Berlin last time, after a month in the heat of Spain. Selina knew why, and so did he. He also knew she was going to leave soon.
It was their first morning in Germany after arriving late the evening before. He sensed the change in her as she rose and prepared for the day, showering in their luxury suite as he tried to think of a way to convince her to stay. But try as he may to concoct the words to make her stay with him, he knew he was falling prey to wishful thinking.
He was in Berlin because there was a man here, a vigilante, who had been making waves much as Bruce had years ago when he first put on the cowl in Gotham. But the man was largely untrained, and though he'd had a few impressive victories that earned him some press, he clearly needed help. Bruce, seeing a chance to further secure his legacy and nurture it as it spread across the globe in the wake of Batman's death, decided he would be the one to train the man. He also knew that this came at the cost of Selina's companionship.
She would never be content to be a sidekick at best, and at worst, the woman he came home to after long nights spent allowing his past life to continue to consume him. She also showed no interest in being domesticated. She was always being pulled in a thousand different directions, none of which intersected with the ones also pulling him away from her.
They'd been traveling together for nearly a year. Bruce had made the mistake of letting himself get used to her presence, value her companionship, and yet he couldn't stop himself from making the decision that would send her away.
She never locked the door when she showered. It was an always-open invitation, one he took her up on often, but today, he stayed outside, sitting on the edge of the bed at the center of the room, half-heartedly watching a local German newscast as he listened to the water shut off. He didn't know why he felt so forlorn at the idea of watching her walk away. He hadn't exactly been banking on her being his "happily ever after", nor had he ever thought for a minute that she'd stay by his side forever, when her life was now a literal clean slate. But after all of these months, and all of the time spent together, reality hurt more than he thought it would.
He heard the bathroom door open, and a glance to his left saw Selina sauntering out of a cloud of steam, clad only in a towel and wearing an amused look on her pale face. He met her gaze, leaning back a bit as she made her path clear.
"It's easy to get lonely in a shower that big," she purred, lowering herself down to his lap, her legs on either side of his.
He brought a hand to her damp hair, brushing it aside as he looked down to her full, smooth lips. He'd kissed those lips every day for months, watched her use them to tease and soothe and pleasure every inch of his body, and now he didn't know how much longer he had with them.
"You've got that look in your eyes," she said, her hands on his chest, over his thin t-shirt. "The one that says you're thinking so hard that you're about to hurt yourself."
He smirked, his own hands on her thighs, creeping up under the towel. "I've got a lot to think about."
"Yeah," she replied, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt and pulling until he allowed her to remove it from him. "How about we... don't think for a few minutes?"
He wasn't one to argue with her. He pulled the towel away from her and dropped it somewhere on the floor, letting out a breathless sigh as she pushed him down on his back. She had a way of taking control with him, a way that no other woman had ever dared to before, and it was only one of the things about her that made her utterly intoxicating to him. He held her tighter than usual, kissed her harder than usual, and made it last as long as he could. He didn't know if she'd still be around this time tomorrow.
As it happened, she wasn't. He met the German vigilante that night, not as Bruce Wayne or even as his current false identity, but as a friend and an old associate of Batman who wanted to help the man and train him to reach his full potential. When he returned to the hotel after, in the wee hours of the morning, he found Selina sleeping lightly, and watched her eyes open as soon as he slipped into bed beside her.
"Well?" she asked, her voice a little thick from sleep.
"It went well," he replied.
"So it's happening, then."
Bruce could hear the disappointment in her voice, even though she was trying to hide it. He nodded. "It's just training, Selina."
She rolled her eyes. "It's just training until the guy you're training gets into trouble. Then what are you gonna do? Just let him die? Or jump in and save the day?"
Bruce had no retort for this. "It's... I have to do this, Selina."
Her eyes were intent on his in the darkness of the night. "I know."
"You don't have to go," he said, his voice just fractionally pleading. His hand found one of hers under the sheets. "You can help me."
"Bruce," she shook her head slightly, "this thing you have, this obsession... I don't share it. You know that. If this is what you need to do, then do it. But you can't expect me to spend my life watching you and waiting for you to finally give it up for good."
He tried to hide the traces of sadness in his eyes and on his features, but she saw them clear as day. She took a breath and shifted, putting a hand on his chest and moving closer to him. "Hey now. Don't look like that."
"Is there anything I can do to make you stay?" he asked quietly.
"I think we always knew we'd end up going our separate ways eventually, Bruce," Selina said.
"Doesn't have to be that way," Bruce replied.
"Yeah it does," she said. "But that doesn't mean our paths won't cross again."
Moments like these made Bruce want to cast away everything, let go of this drive and passion that his "death" in Gotham hadn't extinguished, if it meant keeping Selina for good. But was she ever really his to keep?
It made him ache to think how he'd miss her. He'd miss waking up with her and falling asleep with her, and all of the conversations and games and laughter that filled the hours in between. He'd never known someone so unconditionally accepting of him and who he was, so sure of her own self and her own desires that she could leave him without a second thought and yet promise that this wasn't the last he'd see of her.
"I'll find you," he whispered, his eyes falling on her lips just as they had earlier that day. "Anywhere you go. I'll always find you."
"Stalker," she grinned down at him.
"Don't forget it," he replied, taking her in his arms and covering her with his weight. He wasn't going to let her leave without a night she'd never forget, one intense enough to brand his name on her consciousness forever, and make her spend her nights wishing that he was there to make her feel this way again. He'd obliterate every future lover before she could even meet them or give them a second look, because even if this was a goodbye, it was also a promise, and one that he wouldn't neglect.
She was gone when he woke up the next morning, and so were his mother's pearls.
A year passed. He trained the German vigilante and watched as more men - and a few women - began to pop up here and there, in varying countries and regions, all trying to be their own symbol for justice in their cities. This both inspired and terrified Bruce, who knew that not all of these people would be cut out for the work, so he made it a point to do exhaustive research on each individual to determine who could most utilize his help. The next candidate he took on in the wake of his success in Germany was a man in Hong Kong.
He spent his days working, building an identity for himself that would enable him to travel seamlessly from country to country with no suspicions or hindrance. He went with what he knew, which was a caricature of the playboy persona of his old self, now under the name of Thomas Wilders. During his nights, he found meaning in his existence again.
The man in Hong Kong was a hulk of a man, already somewhat trained in martial arts, but research and strategy were the areas in which he needed the most help. Bruce shared his resources - Lucius Fox was surprisingly open to helping Bruce in his new mission - and helped him trace the roots of the mob that was growing in power there.
When Bruce went to Macau, neighboring island to Hong Kong and one of the newest gambling capitals of the world, he went to investigate a casino owner that he had reason to believe was the new head of Hong Kong's top crime family. The casino in question happened to be the largest one in the world, a huge tourist attraction, and easy to blend in the background of or stand out like a sore thumb in, depending on which suited his purposes at the time.
He'd never been a fan of gambling. He'd done his fair share of it when it had been appropriate to maintain his reputation in Gotham years ago, but it wasn't something he enjoyed. Nonetheless, as he strolled into the place with a raven-haired local beauty on his arm, he proved to himself that his acting skills were as sharp as ever.
He kept his eyes peeled for the man that he was here to watch, and within an hour of his arrival, he spotted the casino owner amid a circle of poker tables. He smiled at his date and sat them at one of the tables, buying into the game without so much as blinking at the absurd cost, and nearly fell out of his seat when he locked eyes with the woman seated directly across from him.
There she was, Selina Kyle, sitting there at this poker table like she owned it and everything around her, with the arm of a handsome, Mediterranean-complected man around her shoulders. Sleek, long hair, red lips, black one-shouldered dress, familiar pearls draped around her neck. Eyes that betrayed her own shock as they met those of the man across from her.
Bruce's date nudged his side, sipping on something he didn't remember ordering for her, getting slightly handsy, but it wasn't enough to steal his attention. His brain only returned to him when Selina's lips stretched into a seductive, dangerous grin. Her eyes then moved to the cards in her hand, and Bruce damn near forgot why he was even there in the first place.
She was winning, of course. Several very tall stacks of chips sat in front of her, and other players had come and gone, giving her their money in the process. Bruce was one of only two other players bothering to try to steal her winnings from her, but his mind wasn't even a fraction on the game.
The dealer tossed Bruce's cards to him as his date laughed at something and wrapped both of her arms around one of his. He hid his annoyance and ordered her another drink from a passing server before turning his eyes back to Selina. She was watching him and grinning as the man at her side whispered something in her ear. Bruce fought the urge to hurl his date at the man and kill two birds with one stone.
Instead, his glanced at his cards as Selina did the same. The girl at his side kissed his neck. He hid a grimace and looked up in time to see Selina watching.
He liked his cards enough to raise the stakes. Selina called, then kept her eyes on Bruce as her own date kissed her full on her lips.
Bruce didn't care that Selina wasn't his anymore, or that she perhaps never had been to begin with. He didn't care that he didn't have a right to be jealous, all things considered. It didn't matter. He hated the man at her side and wanted to watch him choke on the ridiculously patterned tie on his neck, then take Selina right there on the poker table, the crowd be damned.
But instead of acting on his caveman-esque thoughts, Bruce merely smiled back at her and embraced both of the games at hand - the one that was being played with cards, and the silent one that only he and Selina were aware of.
"Careful, handsome," Selina purred as a new hand was dealt. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm on fire tonight."
"I noticed," Bruce replied. Behind him, some other patrons had taken an interest in spectating the game, including a very tall, very blonde woman would have been too close for comfort if she hadn't been suiting his purposes perfectly. He looked up at her and invited her to sit on his unoccupied side with a flash of his brilliant playboy grin, and she accepted with a similarly suggestive smile.
Selina looked on, unimpressed, and he knew why. She knew this was all an act, that he didn't even like poker, and that he had zero interest in either woman at his side. But Bruce knew that Selina, on the other hand, was right in her natural element - dressed to the nines, stealing everyone's money with little to no effort, and wrapping any and every man in the room around her finger with one quirk of her lips or one sultry stare.
They were unevenly matched, but he knew of a way to change that.
He raised, she called, and he finally won a hand. She rolled her eyes as she lost only a small fraction of her chips, and Bruce got comfortable in his seat. The blonde whispered something in his ear, and he slid an arm around her waist as he whispered something back. Selina watched with a look of disinterest. Another hand was dealt.
Slowly the playing field began to even out. Selina watched her hoard of chips disappear into Bruce's hands, until they had an even amount between them. She also noticed that Bruce was doing this while simultaneously watching the owner of the place as he schmoozed in the crowd nearby and making both of the women with him blush furiously with words she couldn't hear.
"So," she asked as her irritation grew, "what brings you here, Mr...?"
"Thomas Wilders," Bruce replied.
"Mr. Wilders," Selina smiled. "What brings you here? Business or pleasure?"
"Who says I can't have both?" he replied, now fully immersed into his act. "All in."
That earned an arch of her brow. He watched as she contemplated her next move. The brunette on his left giggled as her hand moved on his thigh, but he barely felt the contact. He'd be disappointed in Selina if she didn't follow his lead.
But she did, like he knew she would. She grinned and said, "All in."
They were the only two players left for the last fifteen minutes. Bruce flipped his cards over without breaking eye contact with Selina, and as soon as she saw them - just a lowly pair of threes - she groaned and rolled her eyes, then watched Bruce take everything she'd spent the last few hours winning.
Bruce watched as Selina bade a quiet farewell to her companion, then rose gracefully to her feet with a parting glance across the table to him. He quickly told the girls to take the winnings and split them between each other, then got up and followed Selina.
The casino owner wasn't much on Bruce's mind at the moment, as his current surroundings didn't leave a lot of room for investigations, so he didn't think twice about following the woman he hadn't seen in a little more than a year. His mind was full of questions as to why she was here, how in the world they had ended up here at the same time, who that man was that she was with, and what she'd been spending the last year doing. But, as he followed her through the crowd, watching her long legs move and hips sway like she knew he was watching and was trying to torture him as much as she could, he knew the time for questions would come later.
She walked to an elevator, pressed the button and didn't turn around as he approached her from behind. He stood close enough to breathe in her scent, let it roll over him as his heart and body ached at her proximity, and then the doors opened.
The elevator was empty. She swiftly turned and grabbed him by his tie, pulling him inside and quickly slamming the "door close" button before anyone else could board.
He didn't see which floor number she pressed. She was still holding his tie and had pressed her body into his, bringing her lips a breath away from his as she murmured, "Of all the casinos in the world..."
Her eyes darkened as his hand reached behind him. The elevator then stopped with a sudden thud, between floors. She grinned. "I've missed you, Bruce."
He responded with a groan and a hard kiss, any clever comebacks or coherent words dying in his throat as he picked her up and pushed her against the back wall of the elevator. He knew the emergency stop didn't buy them much time, and if he had waited just a few moments they could have made it to an actual room with an actual bed, but it would have been impossible. He needed her, here, now, and damn the rest of the world, and anything outside of that elevator.
Her back hit the wall with a thud, and as he pushed her dress up she wound her legs around his waist, all while they kissed like two starved animals who had found paradise after wandering through a barren desert. Her hands took care of his belt and pants while his lips found her neck and devoured her there, just above where the pearls laid, and breathless moans from her lips let him know that he wasn't the only one who needed this like he needed oxygen.
"Your hair's longer," she breathed out as her fingers pulled on his dark strands. The ends fell into his eyes when he lifted his head from her neck to kiss her lips again.
"You're... exactly as I remember you," Bruce said, pinning her to the wall with his body as his hands moved down to her hips. "Beautiful..." He tore her delicate lace panties with one clean rip from his hands. "Perfect..."
"Perfect's not a word you throw around oft-" her words died on her lips and became a gasp as he filled her with one hard thrust of his hips. He watched as those red lips of her parted and opened in a silent moan as long as he could stop himself from kissing them desperately, not giving her any time to adjust to him or catch her breath before starting to move against her fervently. There was a time to be gentle, a time to be patient and torturous, but this was not one of those times. This was a moment meant to be fast and hard and desperate, and it was all he could do to listen to her moan and gasp in between kisses without completely losing his mind.
One of his hands moved from her hips further up and under her dress to cup and knead her breast, the other hand holding her still as possible as he slammed into her without reprieve and without thought. Everything was all instinct, all a mindless, flesh-driven response to something much deeper that couldn't be put into words. She clung to him, one hand in his hair and the other on his back, under his shirt, leaving jagged claw marks from the tips of her red nails digging mercilessly into his skin. He liked it.
Her sounds and broken words in his ear were desperate pleas, ones that he answered by moving her higher up the wall and then moving his hand down between them, where the first flick of his fingers made her arch and nearly scream into his mouth. Her nails may have drawn blood as she shook and shuddered, her body far out of her control as he felt her clench and spasm and strangle him into his own oblivion.
Bruce's brain showed signs of life an unknown amount of moments later, when Selina's soothing fingers in his hair moved down to his face and lifted him away from her neck by his chin. He was panting still, and so was she, and with a soft kiss to her lips, he set her down on her feet.
It would have been easy to feel foolish as he fixed his clothing and refastened his belt, watching her adjust her dress and run her fingers along her lips to fix the lipstick smeared wildly around them, but he had no regrets in sight. He reached behind him and hit the emergency button again.
As the elevator began to move again, Selina took his tie in her hands once more and straightened it gently. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Wilders."
"What are you going by these days?" Bruce asked, looking down as she peeled open a side of his jacket.
The ruined lace underwear was in her hand, and as she stuffed them into his liner pocket, she replied, "I happen to like the name Selina Kyle."
"Then are you doing here, Miss Kyle?"
The elevator doors opened, on the very top floor of the building, and Selina gave him a look as she exited. "Meet me on the roof and I'll tell you all about it."
Selina nicked a bottle of champagne from a room service cart as they made their way to the roof, but he declined her offer to share as they sat near the roof's edge. She shrugged and drank from the bottle as he repeated his first question.
"Why are you here?"
"I had the itch to gamble some money that isn't mine," she said with a small grin. "And Vegas seemed a little too cliche for my taste."
The night was clear, cloudless, and the moon was nearly full as it hung in the sky over the lit up city. Seeing her like this, her hair still a little messy from their time in the elevator, and bathed in moonlight with a whole city at her feet, seemed like something out of a movie to Bruce's eyes. "Really. And that's the whole story?"
"Of course it isn't," Selina replied, taking another drink from the bottle. "My plan to spend the year doing whatever the hell I wanted didn't quite turn out as I'd hoped. I started out in France and ended up in Thailand."
"Why?"
"Sex traffickers," Selina replied. "A couple of them stole some girls that they should have stayed away from."
"They took them to Thailand?"
Selina nodded. "I Liam Neeson-ed those bastards."
Bruce's expression became confused, and Selina rolled her eyes. "Still ignorant to pop culture, I take it. Anyway... as a reward for my good deeds, I decided to treat myself to a week in Macau. Paid in full by a suitcase full of money I took from the thugs when I was done with them." Then she turned her gaze to him and said, "The real question is, what are you doing here?"
"Working," he replied.
"Training a new Bat-wannabe?"
"The man I'm training is in Hong Kong," Bruce replied. "I'm here investigating the owner of this place."
"Hooking up with an old friend in the elevator is a great way to do that," Selina grinned.
"Well... I've got the rest of the week here."
"So do I," she replied. "What's so bad about the owner?"
"He's running the mob in Hong Kong," Bruce replied. "I could use your help, if you're up for it. Unless you have other plans with your... companion."
Selina scoffed. "I just met that guy tonight. He was halfway interesting... at least until something better came along."
"So is that a yes?"
"What the hell," Selina shrugged. "As long as you make it worth my while."
Bruce grinned. "It'll be a lot of surveillance."
"I'm sure we can find ways to pass the time in between," she said before bringing the champagne bottle to her lips once more.
"So... you've been keeping to the side of the angels," he guessed.
"If you say so," she replied.
"Well, rescuing young girls from sex traffickers qualifies as sticking to the side of the light."
She turned and looked at Bruce with a darkness in her eyes that gave him just a glimpse of how harrowing the experience had really been. "Those girls lived next door to me. They're 12 and 13. They were poor, lived with their grandmother and did what they could to scrape by. I found them in my apartment one night looking for food to steal. I decided to teach them how to steal properly, figured it was the best thing I could do for them. Then the little brats grew on me. And one day they went to school and didn't come back."
"How did you find them?"
"Wasn't easy," she replied. "And I'm not proud of everything I had to do to track the bastards down. But I did it. The girls are back home. And there's one or two less scumbags in the world now."
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you haven't adopted my no killing rule," Bruce chided.
"Not all of us mind watching evil men get what they deserve, Bruce."
He didn't doubt that, but it was one of the many areas that he knew they'd never see eye to eye on. And he'd never approve of her methods, regardless of what he felt for her, but that didn't mean he couldn't admire what she'd done for those little girls. He always knew there was more to her, even if she didn't.
She looked up at him, smiling a little as she realized how he was staring at her. He took the bottle out of her hand and set it aside, then lightly brought his hand to her leg, just below her knee. She leaned back on her hands, her feet dangling off the roof, and placed a hand on his jaw. "Are you happy?"
If that wasn't a loaded question, he didn't know what was. He decided to go with honesty for now. "Right now I am."
Then he kissed her, slow this time, not brutally like he had in the elevator. She let him lay her down, his hand on the back of her head cushioning it against the hard rooftop, angling her mouth so that he could take the kiss deep, all while his hand on her leg moved up higher. The sweet taste of champagne on her tongue made his head spin, and her moaning into his mouth when his hand reached her core was nearly too much to keep himself under control.
Saying goodbye this time, he feared, may be even harder than the last time.
The week went by as he imagined it would, sometimes too slowly but most of the time far too quickly. The surveillance of the casino owner paid off, and Bruce was able to communicate to his man in Hong Kong when the chance to strike against the mob would be. There was a huge money drop happening soon, one that the owner would be supervising personally, and that was the time to make a move, Bruce advised.
When they weren't spying on mob bosses, Bruce and Selina were holed up in one of the casino's finest suites, doing equal amounts of talking and not talking. It was one of the things he missed most about having her around - all conversations led to sex, but the conversations themselves were effortless and full of things they couldn't say to anyone but each other. He realized how truly lonely life had been for the past year, how this woman was the only woman in the world that he could talk to like this.
"So," Selina said during their final night together, as they lay tangled in thin white sheets and nothing else, "you're just going from country to country, leaving your own personal... Bat-men behind to do what you did for Gotham?"
"More or less," he replied, idly stroking her one of her feet in his lap.
"Like some... global network of vigilantes. Do you have a name for this thing you're doing? Like... 'Batman Global' or 'Batman Incorporated."
Bruce shook his head with a smile. "No. No name for it."
"And these men, do they answer to you?"
"As much as I can expect other vigilantes with god complexes to answer to anyone," Bruce said.
"And have you had to save them from anyone yet?"
Bruce paused before answering that one. He didn't always like to admit when she'd been right. "Yeah. A few times."
"Told ya," Selina chided him before pausing. "Are you more fulfilled now?"
He nodded. It was the truth. It felt good to be doing this, to be fighting for what he believed in without having to put himself directly in danger every night. The symbol that he had intended for Batman to be from his inception was now no longer limited to Gotham, and surely not limited to Bruce Wayne. He never dreamed that he would have had this level of impact upon the world.
"Good," Selina said. "I never liked seeing you the way you were before. Like you were trying to be somebody you're not. Neither of us were cut out for the quiet life."
A silence fell then, filling the space between them for a moment or two before Bruce asked quietly, "When I'm done with this - whenever that is - would you... consider staying then?"
"Oh, honey," Selina said, shifting herself up and closer to him in the bed, "don't start with this again."
"Why not?" he asked. "Why can't it be like this all the time?"
"Because," she explained, "then we'd both end up wanting more when we know we can't have more."
"Why?"
Selina rolled her eyes. "Because you're you, and I'm me. You've got your 'Batman Inc', and I've got... my stuff. We were meant to be solitary figures, Bruce. Don't you see that?"
Bruce stared at her, honestly unable to agree or disagree. "I'm glad it's that easy for you to walk away."
Her expression hardened just barely at those words. "I never said it was easy."
"Then stay. We can try."
"Stay where, in Hong Kong?" Selina retorted. "While you fight the mob with one of your Batmen? What is there for me in Hong Kong, Bruce?"
He stayed silent, trying to keep his expression blank as Selina went on.
"For once in my life, Bruce, I can do anything I want. Go anywhere, be anything. I'm not giving that up."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Yes you are," Selina replied. "And you can't expect me to give up who I am and commit myself to you when I'll always come second to your obsession with justice."
Bruce said nothing, and could think of nothing to say back to her. She sighed and added, "If you could look me in the eyes and honestly tell me that I'd come first, then maybe we could talk. But the thing is, I know how important this is to you. And I don't want to be the reason you give it up. I don't want you to end up resenting me. And I sure as hell don't want to end up resenting you."
He nodded, then watched her slip out of the bed and slip through his fingers once more.
When his days in Hong Kong came to an end, Bruce went to the other side of the world, to the United Kingdom. Besides work - of which Selina's nickname of "Batman Inc." had begun to stick in his mind - he was drawn there due to the fact that, thanks to a tracking device he'd placed on the pearls before she left him the last time, he knew that Selina was currently wreaking havoc in London.
But then, maybe havoc was a strong word. She was a free agent, playing on either side of the law as she saw fit, and though Bruce's first instinct was to scold her for using her "fresh start" like this, he hardly had room to talk. She was doing the only thing that she knew how to do, and so was he. She was just smarter about how she lived now, and he'd like to think that he was too, but a recent injury begged to differ.
It happened in Hong Kong, during his last fight that he'd chosen to partake in. He had been fighting six men at once, which barely made him blink, but one kick that the biggest of the men had landed to his lower back seemed to have aggravated his old injury there. He'd been putting off going to a doctor but lost the will to keep procrastinating once he got to England.
It had been a quite a long time since his last full check-up, long enough to make him a bit nervous when he visited one of London's hospitals a few days after he'd settled into a new six-month lease. But the day proved to be a curious case of mistaken expectations.
Bruce's appointment was with a Dr. Elliot Morgan, but one of his interns did the legwork, which was lengthy - X-rays, full patient history, and half of the actual physical. The doctor himself was running late, and just as Bruce was nearly ready to simply reschedule the appointment, Dr. Morgan came barreling into the room harried and quickly spouting apologies.
Bruce paused and looked on from his perch on the exam table in surprise. The doctor was not a "he" at all - Elliot Morgan was a beautiful 30-something woman who made a lab coat and long, slightly tangled blonde hair look very good. Dr. Morgan did a double take herself as well, then looked down at Bruce's chart in shock - all she'd had time to look over before entering the room were his X-ray films, and judging from them, she expected him to be a feeble old man. But, sure enough, his chart listed him as one month away from 42, and the man smiling at her from just a few feet away appeared anything but feeble.
"Sorry," she smiled, "I'm not usually as late or frazzled as I am today."
"It's fine," he shrugged.
"No, it's not," she shook her head, excusing her intern from the room as she quickly read over the notes on the chart. "This is actually the first appointment of mine that I've been late to ever, and I finished my residency six years ago, so... anyway, what brings you in today, Mister... Wilders?"
"I, uh... was in an accident a few years ago. Snowboarding in Aspen. Fractured my spine and, just a few weeks ago, had a... car accident, and I think I may have reinjured my back a little bit."
"Okay... and why exactly am I seeing that you have no cartilage in your knees?" she asked, squinting at some of the notes on the chart.
"I tend to go a little overboard with things. Like snowboarding. And other sports and activities. You know, like spelunking." He cringed and inwardly kicked himself. He'd spouted his lies to the intern much more effectively.
"Spe-whating?" she repeated, confused.
He smiled. "It doesn't matter. I've learned to take it easy now."
Reluctantly, she set the chart down and then turned to a sink to quickly wash her hands. "Okay... so have you been experiencing a lot of pain in your back?"
He answered as the doctor prepared to examine him, and the questions and answers continued until he felt her hands gently prodding at his spine, which is when he jumped at her unexpectedly icy touch.
"Sorry," she apologized genuinely. "My hands are always cold. My patients hate me for it."
"It's okay," he bit out, relieved when her hands left his skin.
He watched as she quickly jotted down some notes on his chart, then turned back to him and said, "I don't know what all my intern did for you, but I'm going to do the routine part of the exam now, alright?" She started rubbing her hands together and smiled, "I'll try not to freeze you again."
He smiled and shrugged. "It's okay, really."
She smiled back, then reached out and turned his arm over with one hand while the other pressed two fingers to his pulse. "Better?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Okay," she smiled, then looked at her watch as she began to count. Halfway through, she blew a wayward curl away from her face from the corner of her mouth, and Bruce realized that he was watching when her green eyes snapped up and met his. He quickly looked away, and she cleared her throat before going on with the exam.
She ended the appointment not long after, mentioning that she would have an orthopedic surgeon take a look at his films, but that she thought she could treat his aggravated injury just fine without surgery. Then she hurried out of the room as quickly as she'd hurried in, mumbling about her next appointment already running as late as this one had, and the corner of Bruce's lips quirked up just slightly as she went.
But the half-smile became a frown when the inescapable truth set in. There was no point in finding any woman charming, pretty, or interesting, because even Selina didn't want a relationship with him, so why would a normal, well-adjusted woman want one? He couldn't be honest with one, anyway.
But that was life. He put his jacket on and left the hospital.
London was a different story from Berlin and Hong Kong. He had to search for a trainee here - there were no amateur vigilantes making waves yet. He wondered if this was how Ra's al Ghul had operated, researching and watching, waiting for someone to catch his eye and give him the impression that they had what it took. In any case, he'd taken a page from his mentor's book and was keeping his closest eye on the prisons.
On his first night off from stalking potential protégées, Bruce decided to check up on Selina's whereabouts. He was amused to pin her location to a downtown gala, feeling a humorous sense of déjà vu, tracking her to such an event with the aid of a device fastened to the pearls.
He put on his best suit and hit the town. At least this time, the gala wasn't a masquerade ball.
He spotted Selina in the crowd as he had once before, from the top of a staircase. She wasn't with an old man this time, but a young one, and she was laughing as she danced with him. Something stirred within Bruce, a twinge of something, and it took him a moment to figure out what it was.
She looked comfortable with the man, like they were very familiar with each other, not as if he was a mark or an otherwise disposable figure. Then it struck him - was she in an actual relationship? Selina Kyle, this woman who eschewed relationships, despised the idea of commitment and being "tied down", always told Bruce he was a fool for wanting more than a friend and a lover - had she shed her rules for this idiot?
Jealousy propelled him down the staircase. A head of blonde hair bobbed past him before he could enter the crowd of dancing pairs. The blonde head then dropped down, and a body collided with his own.
"I'm so sorry!" the woman exclaimed as he caught himself and righted her. "I'm so clumsy, tripped over my own damn... oh."
Hazel eyes met green ones, and Bruce recognized the woman whose forearms he was holding as his doctor. Her hair was brushed today, swept back into an intricate up-do, and her gown was long and golden against pale skin. He caught himself and smiled politely, "Doctor Morgan."
"Mister... Wilders," she remembered, smiling back as he let go of her arms. "I swear I'm not as much of a mess as I seem."
He chuckled. "I wouldn't call you a mess, Doctor."
"Well, thanks," she smiled. "That's very polite of you."
Behind her, the crowd had opened just enough to give Bruce another glimpse of Selina dancing with her date. He asked the doctor to dance before he had a chance to think about it.
"Oh... sure, I guess, yeah."
As Bruce led her into the crowd, he turned and didn't see Selina catch a glimpse of him and stare in a shock potent enough to make her stop moving mid-dance.
As Bruce and the doctor began to dance, she smiled and half-chuckled as she said, "Sorry, I'm not used to dancing with my patients."
"Ah. Well, I always dance with my doctors, so."
She laughed, and he grinned. "You're funny. What do you do?"
"I'm an investor," Bruce replied.
"An investor," she repeated. "And what do you invest in?"
"People," he said.
"All right," she smiled. "And you do this in between snowboarding and spedunking?"
"Spelunking," he gently corrected. "And yes. When I have time."
"Must be nice. I bet your girlfriend's always worried sick about you."
Bruce gave a slight shrug. "Maybe if I had one."
The doctor smiled at him before a beeping noise broke the moment. She quickly took her hands away from him and pulled out her pager from seemingly nowhere - how had she kept it concealed on a dress that form fitting? - then sighed. "Of course. Can't fit a whole night out without getting paged for the life of me." She looked up at Bruce and smiled a bit sadly. "Thanks for the dance."
He nodded. "My pleasure, Doctor."
"You can call me Elliot outside of the hospital," she replied before smiling again and slipping away through the crowd.
She'd just left his sight when he heard a familiar, putting voice behind him. "Didn't know you had a thing for blondes."
Bruce turned and gave Selina a bemused, but hard, look. "Does it matter to you one way or the other?"
"Oh, come on," she smiled, sliding up to him and taking one of his hands while her other took his shoulder. "Green's not your best color."
Slowly he began to dance with her, retorting, "I didn't think relationships suited you, either."
"You're assuming a little too much, Mr. Wilders," she replied.
"Am I?"
"Does it matter to you one way or another?"
Bruce sighed. "Mind if we drop the games and the talking in riddles for one night?"
"Sure," Selina grinned. "Shoot, handsome."
"Is that man you're with more than a mark or a lover?"
"He's convenient," Selina said casually.
"That's all?"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "My, my. You're awfully possessive of something that doesn't belong to you. By the way, who was that woman?"
"My doctor," Bruce replied.
"She's pretty," Selina said. "You look good together."
"I don't want her," Bruce said, his hand on her waist tensing involuntarily.
"What do you want?"
"What I can't have."
Selina paused, taking Bruce's stare without flinching. "You can have her. She's pretty. And I'm sure she's smart if she's a doctor. Maybe you should take a chance on a nice, normal girl, since the bad girl isn't living up to your expectations."
"This has nothing to do with my expectations," Bruce replied.
"Really? Then what did you expect when you came here tonight? What do you expect any time we end up in the same room?"
Bruce shook his head slightly, eyes drifting off across the room to nothing in particular. "I don't know."
Selina leaned forward then, brushing her lips against his ear as they ceased the dance. "I know what I expect. I think you do too."
His hand on her shoulder pushed her back. She looked up at him in surprise, then closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to hers. The hand on her shoulder slid to her neck, unclasped the pearls, and drew away at the same moment as his lips.
"I can't let you keep these anymore," he whispered, pocketing the necklace. Selina tried to appear unaffected, but she hadn't seen that coming, and he knew it. He took a step back, and she continued to stare back at him defiantly.
"You know I'll be back for those."
"I'm counting on it," Bruce replied, leaving her standing in the middle of the crowd as he walked away. He was giving up his way to track her with his repossession of the pearls, but he thought maybe it was for the best. Maybe, if anything ever were to change, it would have to be from Selina chasing him down for once.
He went to the hospital afterwards, for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of. He gave Elliot the surprise of her night when she walked out of a patient's room, still in her gown, to find him leaning casually near the nurse's station. He mentioned how he hadn't gotten her number back at the gala, and that he didn't think her appointment line would serve his interests much. She smiled and cringed at herself as a blush crept up on her cheeks.
Inside the right pocket of his pants, Bruce's hand clutched his mother's pearls, and in his mind, he wondered what the hell he was doing.
Bruce found his trainee in an underground boxing ring. That part of life was the easiest one. Living a lie while you dated a perfectly innocent, unsuspecting woman, was a different story.
She was sweet, funny, refreshing, and busy enough with her work that she wasn't aware of Bruce's prolonged absences at night. In that sense, it was perfect. She made him laugh and allowed him to pretend, for a few hours a day, however long their times together were, that he could be normal, and have a normal relationship with a normal woman.
It was delusional, the very essence of self-deceiving, but damn it all, he loved every minute of it. He took the doctor out to dinner, walked her home, bought her flowers, did everything he'd never done with a woman before. His time with Selina had been a chemical explosion of lust and fighting and secret-sharing, but this was the closest thing to normal and conventional that he'd ever experienced.
He didn't see the inside of Elliot's apartment until their third date, and she didn't let him take her clothes off until the fifth. Around the same time, he introduced her to Alfred, who was also living in London these days.
Bruce's lies went unquestioned. Alfred was happy for him. Selina was staying under the radar and hadn't interfered yet. "Work" was going fine. All in all, everything was great.
That was what Bruce told himself when he'd start comparing Elliot and Selina in his mind, or start despairing at the lack of honesty between them. He clung to the lies, began to believe them himself, and went so far as to say two words to the woman that he didn't think he'd ever say to any woman.
It was in the dark of night, six months after the gala, as Elliot lay panting in Bruce's arms, in her bed, smiling as she tried to catch her breath. Moonlight was flowing in from the window and hitting her just right, giving her pale skin and blonde hair an ethereal glow, and somehow, for that brief moment in time, Bruce lost his mind just long enough to look into her eyes and murmur, "Marry me."
She stared in shock long enough to make him panic. But then her smile returned, and suddenly, they were engaged.
It was madness, and he knew it. He couldn't even genuinely commit to living in London for another year, let alone commit himself to a woman.
As soon as Alfred found out about the news, he didn't have the reaction that Bruce had expected. Alfred knew vaguely of Bruce's "work", if not of the details, but he knew enough to be aware of the fact that Bruce wasn't exactly in an honest, open relationship.
He'd later wonder if Alfred had been the one to contact Selina, or if she'd simply heard the news herself through other means. Either way, barely a week after his spontaneous proposal, he walked into his own apartment to find her there, waiting for him.
He was sweaty and tired from a night of training, and Elliot was working a double shift, leaving him with nothing to do other than return to his place and sleep. But as soon as he stepped inside the front door, he knew somebody was there. His instincts were as sharp as they ever were, and somehow he wasn't surprised to find Selina laid out on his bed, casually, like it was the most natural place in the world for her to be. Music was playing softly from a device on his nightstand, something slow that he didn't recognize, and he would have laughed had his heart still been beating.
She'd dressed up for this, donning one of her little black dresses and pairs of tall heels, and her hair was down and spilling over pale shoulders. He drank in the sight of her from the doorway, hating himself already, because he could suddenly barely breathe, and a part of him knew there was only one way for this to end.
"Hey there," she grinned, sitting up smoothly against his pillows. "Miss me?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Always such warm welcomes from you," she chided. "I hear congratulations are in order."
He sighed. "You need to get out of my bed."
"Why?" she inquired. "Do I need to make room for your fiancée?"
She said the last word like it was laced with poison, but the grin never left her face. When he didn't reply, she gracefully swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose to her feet. "So... tell me about her."
"Why?" Bruce asked, sincerely. "Why would you want to hear about her?"
She shrugged, moving towards him. He kept his eyes squarely on hers, refusing to watch her hips move and sway with her steps. "You're hurting my feelings, Bruce. Aren't we friends? Friends tell each other about these things."
"You're here as a friend?" Bruce said, his tone unbelieving. "Somehow... I find that unlikely."
She stopped in front of him, a short distance separating them as she smiled. "Are you happy, Bruce? Does she make you happy?"
"Yes," he replied evenly.
"And she supports you?"
Bruce didn't answer this time. He walked past Selina, heading towards the window on the east side of his room, for no other reason than to get away from her.
"How did she take the whole 'Batman' thing?" Selina inquired, following him. "That's a lot for someone like her to handle. But you wouldn't jump into something this serious without mentioning that to her... right?"
Her tone was taunting, like she knew he hadn't breathed a word of the truth to Elliot. But of course she'd know that - she knew Bruce better than anyone, with the exception of Alfred.
He continued to stare out of the window, his eyes fixed on tall buildings and the clear night sky as she spoke again. "I'm surprised. Not that you haven't spilled your secrets to her. But that you're actually this deluded to think that this could work."
"You told me to go after her," he said in a low voice.
"Yeah. Because for one, why should I have all the fun? And second, I thought you'd see within a week that this fantasy of yours of being 'normal' and having 'normal relationships' isn't going to happen. It's not you, Bruce."
"I want it to be," he replied honestly.
"Apparently enough to crush this poor girl's heart in the process," Selina said. "You obviously haven't thought it through."
"I can tell her," he said. "I can tell her the truth."
Selina then stepped around to his right side, looking hard into his averted eyes as she said, "Bruce. You need to snap out of this. People like her don't want anything to do with people like us. They can't handle it. You told me once that Rachel taught you that."
That got his attention. Bruce suddenly snapped his eyes to Selina's, the hazel pools burning as he hissed, "Don't you dare use her to manipulate me."
Selina simply smiled. "I won't, trust me. I don't have to."
Bruce turned his eyes back to the window. Selina cocked her head to the side. "What's so special about this girl, anyway? What's got you so deluded and so deep in your own lies that you've actually convinced yourself that it can work?"
He kept his mouth shut. Selina didn't.
"She make you laugh? Make you feel normal, like you're really Thomas Wilders and not Bruce Wayne?"
The only indication that he'd heard her was the slight tightening of his jaw. She pressed on. "Does she let you take charge and sweep her off her feet? Be the strapping, dominating, loving man from some bad romance novel? Have you given her a glimpse of who you are underneath that?" She leaned forward, her body brushing against his as she murmured, "Does she let you fuck her like an animal, let you lose control like I always let -"
Swiftly Bruce turned to her, his eyes blazing again as he growled, "Shut up."
"I take that as a no," Selina grinned. She brought her hands to Bruce's chest, and he brushed them away. She responded by winding her arms around his neck and locking them there. "How can you happy with her when you can't be yourself?"
"I want you out of here," he replied, pushing her away.
"Do you?" she asked, keeping herself firmly against him. "I kinda think you want me to stay."
He grabbed her arms by her wrists and forced her arms away, glaring at her as he seethed, "Why did you come here, just to torture me?"
"Depends on your definition of torture," Selina grinned before throwing herself forward and giving him a hard, forceful kiss. He stayed as still as a stone, refused to return her kiss, but his hands on her upper arms only half-heartedly pushed her away.
She drew back and met his gaze. He seemed frozen inside of himself. She easily removed her arms from his grip and placed them around his neck again, then pulled him close and kissed him once more. His lips didn't move, and he didn't appear to even breathe as she kissed him more softly this time. The music changed, and another song began to play.
She moved her hips against his and tightened her arms around him. She ran her tongue along his lower lip to try to push him into a response. A shudder of a breath from his mouth was all she got, something that sounded like it was supposed to have been a word but died upon execution.
Vaguely he heard the first few words of the song, some distant, barely-there part of his brain not yet useless and still able to register sounds. You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war... You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door...
His hands hung limply at his side, and his eyes were clenched shut as he continued to stand frozen. He felt it, his resolve crumbling, what little he had to begin with. He hated himself, hated how this woman could come sweeping in like an out of control twister and wreck everything he'd built with one kiss, one touch, one word whispered into his ear...
"Bruce," she whispered hotly against his ear, and that was all it took to make him snap - his name, his identity, everything that he was underneath the lies and the made-up names and history, rolling off her tongue like the smooth length of a rope that he could either grasp and pull himself to safety on, or tie into a noose and hang himself with.
He chose the noose.
He grabbed Selina's hips and smashed his lips against hers, rushing them forward until her back hit his dresser and sent everything on top of it clattering to the floor. She held on to him as if for dear life, gasping and turning to pure instinct as he gave her what she wanted in the most punishing, self-hating way possible, kissing her hard enough to swell her lips and biting down long enough to draw the smallest drop of blood.
When he threw her to the bed he was gone, far beyond his own reach, as lost as he'd ever been, but a part of him still knew he'd wake up in the morning drowning under an immense wave of self-loathing. The song playing reflected those thoughts... I'll be waking up in the morning probably hating myself... and he suddenly knew, knew that she'd orchestrated this perfectly, even knew how long it would take to break him that she could list the songs in her arsenal to play at the most damning times.
She knew what she was doing, knew that he would hate himself and punish himself for this for God knows how long, and yet it hadn't stopped her. She was cruel, selfish and ruthless, and he loved her more than he ever wanted to love anyone.
So I cross my heart and I hope to die, that I'll only stay with you one more night...
He tore her dress down the middle, she bit his tongue, he growled, she moaned, he branded her with bruises in the shape of his fingers, and she continued to say his name, over and over, and it was a drug that he couldn't resist an overdose on. She was dragging him down into a pit of misery and ecstasy, barely distinguishable from the other, and when she would inevitably skip off again without him, leaving him for dead, he'd be locked inside of this purgatory until she returned.
She was an angel and a devil in one, the death of him and the only thing that could make him feel this alive. He loved and hated her, just as he loved and hated himself, and this was the turning point they'd been running away from for the last two years.
This had to be the last time, for both of their sakes - it had to be, but it wouldn't be.
And I know I said it a million times... but I'll only stay with you one more night...
In the midst of the chaos, when he first buried himself within her and opened his eyes to watch hers close as she sighed in satisfaction, he stared down at her and shifted his hips to start to move, until her lustful pools of eyes opened and met his.
She pulled him down for the most gentle kiss they'd shared all night, then murmured as he drew back and their eyes met once more, "I think we're destined to do this forever."
He stared down at her, his lips parted and mind reeling at those words, words he'd once heard before, a long time ago. He knew she had no way of knowing that. He also knew that she was right.
Hanging from her noose, the truth was clearer that it had ever been.
He wasn't proud of how he handled the aftermath. When it came to Elliot Morgan, he disappeared from her life with little to no explanation, thinking it was the easiest way to disentangle their lives from each other as gently as he could. As a result, he took on another weight in his heart, another bit of guilt to add to the hoard of it that he already carried with him, but one thing, and one thing only, kept him from completely collapsing in on himself - Selina didn't leave.
She stayed in his bed for the next week, comforting him from his self-inflicted wounds and assuring him that he the only thing he had to be ashamed of was leading on that poor woman - and himself - for as long as he had. She allowed him to consume himself with her, did the same herself with him, until he received a call from Gotham at the end of the surreal week.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed when he hung up, and she knelt behind him, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and pressing a kiss to his neck before she asked, "Anything important?"
"It was Blake," Bruce muttered. "He needs help."
John Blake hadn't asked for Bruce's help once since the supposed death of Batman. The fact that he was asking now meant he probably should have asked months ago and was so deep into something horrible that he was lucky to be alive.
Selina didn't seem surprised by the news. "Hmm. We never manage to stay together like this for more than a week."
And there it was, Bruce thought. The inevitable separation. A week of mindlessness followed by six months, or a year, of no contact, until they'd collide again. He didn't understand how he could feel like he truly couldn't take anymore of this, when she just acted like it was a fact of life - unfortunate, but reality.
He turned his head towards hers, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. His eyes were soft and sincere as he spoke. "Come with me."
She chuckled. "To Gotham? Nice one."
"I'm serious," he replied. "I'm done with this game, Selina. If you walk away again, it's for good. I mean it."
"We've had this conversation before," Selina said. "And I don't know what makes you think I'd follow you to another fight in Gotham."
She slipped away from him then, sliding off of the bed to get dressed, and he watched her as she moved about the room. She was wearing one of his shirts, going through the few belongings she had here as his mouth opened and words came out of their own volition. "I loved her."
She snapped her eyes up to his, a dress in her hands. She said nothing and waited for him to elaborate.
"I loved Elliot. And I crushed her because of you. You walked back into my life and in five minutes destroyed what I spent six months building. And I let you. So think about that, and maybe that'll give you an idea of why I'm asking you to go back to Gotham with me."
Selina sighed. "I didn't destroy anything. All I did was prove to you how delusional you were being. I actually did that woman a favor, if you really think about it."
"You're missing the point of what I'm saying," Bruce replied, somewhat irritatedly.
"So why don't you spell it out for me, then?" Selina retorted. "Since you're done with games and all."
"I would," Bruce said, "but the second the words leave my mouth I know you'll run away and never come back."
Selina pressed her lips into a line, looking down at her hands for a moment before replying, "Then, on second thought, I'd rather you keep your mouth shut."
He left for Gotham the next day. She didn't come with him.
The Dent Act had been overturned within a year of Bane's occupation. The mob was forming again, this time under a new family's name - the Agnoli's - and they were intent on taking the city back twenty years and living like kings in the meantime. Nightwing was doing what he could, but the new mayor had been bought off, as had several judges, and things were starting to look dim in Gotham again. They were always dim, but during reconstruction a rare sense of unity had sustained the city. Now it was getting back to business as usual, and far worse now that the mob had reformed and staked their claim on the city.
Bruce had never wanted to come back to this city. His supposed death had freed him from it, but reality and his choices brought him back. The city may not be his responsibility anymore, but Blake was - at least in Bruce's mind - and he had no regrets about coming back. Alfred made him promise before leaving London that this would be a temporary outing, and he fully intended on keeping that promise.
Like with the men he left behind in Berlin, Hong Kong and London, Bruce spent his time helping to hone Blake's skills, both in fighting and his already decent detective skills. He helped gather intel on the new crime family, much in the way that he'd gathered information on friends and enemies on his very first return trip to Gotham thirteen years ago - in ratty clothes and a hood pulled over his head, with a high-tech listening device in his ear and a camera in his hand.
It was during these outings that sometimes he'd catch a passing glimpse of a woman that for a moment would make his heart thud and eyes widen, but it was never her. Then he'd feel like an idiot, because he knew full well she'd never step foot in Gotham again. He'd tell himself to give it up, try to make himself feel angry at her for what she'd done to his one slightly stable relationship, but he couldn't bring himself to despise her the way that he should have.
"You're nuts, you know that?" Blake said one night, after prying enough information from Bruce to deduct that the cat burglar had been ripping his heart out repeatedly over the last few years. They were sitting in front of the computer in the cave, Blake in his armor and Bruce dressed normally, sighing as he shrugged in response.
"I've never been known for being sane and well-adjusted," Bruce replied absently.
"Yeah, but... how many times are you gonna let her do that to you?"
Bruce ignored the younger man and muttered, "Still no leads on our would-be killer."
The would-be killer in question was a vigilante who'd just appeared in Gotham within the last week, and made waves by attempting the murder of one of the crime family's sons. He'd failed, but the event had caught Bruce's attention. The man wore all black, even a black hood that covered his entire head and face, and ever since that first day, he'd been out on the streets every night, making life difficult for the Agnoli family.
"What I don't get is why he seems so intent on killing the youngest son," Blake said. "The kid's 19 and barely involved in the family's work."
Bruce shook his head, eyes intent on the screen. "I can't find anything on this guy. We need to bring him in before he makes things worse."
"Nice way to change the subject, by the way," Blake remarked.
"I prefer to keep the topic to relevant issues," Bruce replied.
"I'll keep that in mind when Selina comes strolling in here one of these days out of nowhere, and you shoot yourself in the foot again."
Bruce didn't reply. There was no point to. He knew that wasn't going to happen, not this time, and there were bigger things to worry about.
The Agnolis had been run out of Gotham thirty years ago by the Falcones, and had returned to their ancestral Italy until Bane's occupation and the overturning of the Dent Act left Gotham ripe for the picking. They returned - father, mother, five sons and one daughter, cousins and uncles - and couldn't have been more pleased at how easily they had reclaimed what they'd always considered to be rightfully theirs. They would do what the Falcones never did, and they wouldn't lose control of the city to any vigilante, including the Batman's supposed heir, Nightwing.
It was a night of celebration when the entire family gathered downtown at a black-tie affair, attended by judges and the mayor and a host of others in their deep pockets. They didn't expect the night to end as it did.
Nightwing was on an adjacent rooftop, keeping watch on the event. Bruce wasn't far behind, in some deconstructed armor and a ski mask, feeling ridiculous at being back on the streets - especially in this get-up - but he was there to ensure that the nameless assassin would be apprehended tonight. He also couldn't chance one of Gordon's men being the one to do it, because these days, once again, nobody was trustworthy.
Nothing happened for several hours, until the youngest son left the gala early. Bruce left to follow him while Nightwing stayed behind. He wasn't the only one following the heavily guarded teen.
It all happened quickly - tires were shot out, the teen's car swerved and slammed into a pole. His bodyguards filed out of it quickly, returning fire blindly, and one by one, they were taken out. The boy cowered in the backseat, clutching a gun with shaking hands, until hands on his shoulders yanked him out and tossed him to the cold concrete. The gun was easily taken from him and pointed to the middle of his head by the masked man who was apparently obsessed with seeing him dead.
"Why - why are you doing this?" the boy asked through chattering teeth, staring up into a black-cloth covered face, only the outline of a nose and lips visible to his eyes.
"Ask your daddy," a bored, rough voice replied. "He knows."
He closed his eyes and clenched every muscle in his body, preparing for the cold metal of the gun on his forehead to turn into burning blackness. Instead, as he whimpered and cried, he felt nothing. The gun never fired, and the pressure on his forehead disappeared. He opened his eyes and quickly scuttled away in shock as he watched another masked man fight his wannabe assassin.
Bruce immediately knew he wasn't fighting some novice or unskilled fool with a chip on his shoulder. The man fought like an animal, not the least bit intimidated without the aid of the gun that Bruce had disarmed him of, and Bruce took so many vicious punches and kicks that he began to get very, very pissed off.
At one point, the assassin incapacitated him long enough to slip down an alleyway and try to disappear, but Bruce followed and caught him again. This time, Bruce brought the man down with a blow to the back of his neck and a kick to his knees, and Bruce swiftly pinned him to the ground at the end of the alley, on his back.
The man coughed. Bruce growled, "You're a pain the ass, whoever you are." He then ripped the mask from the man's face, and just when he thought he'd seen it all and couldn't be shocked by anything, he was, as always, proven wrong.
Selina coughed some more, smiling and shaking her head as she half-looked into Bruce's barely-visible eyes under his own mask. "I thought that was you. You know, I was this close to getting rid of that little prick."
Bruce's bewildered eyes traveled down her body, which was concealed with strategic padding and shapeless clothing, then back up to her face. Her left eye was already purple from his fist, her hair disheveled and coming down from a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Her lip was bleeding, and she was smirking at him.
Blake knew better than to get involved with whatever was going on in the cave after Bruce dragged Selina back there in handcuffs, so he lingered out on the streets and waited patiently, interrupting a few robberies to pass the time.
Meanwhile, inside the cave, Bruce had sat Selina down and had a first aid kit at his feet as he sat opposite her, staring in complete and utter confusion. Selina seemed as at ease as ever, looking around the cave curiously. "You really have a Batcave. And here I thought you were just joking all this time."
"Selina. I need answers. Now."
She rolled her eyes, picking at the cuffs on her wrists. "You asked me to help you fight the mob in Gotham. Here I am."
"No," he said, "whatever you're doing here, you aren't doing it for me. Start talking."
"I am talking, handsome."
Within a flash, Bruce had grabbed her shoulders and made her gasp with the force of it as he growled, "I mean it, Selina. What are you doing here?"
She could have head-butted him then and made a run for it, and they both knew it, but she didn't. Instead, she glared down at his hands, and slowly, he withdrew them and pulled back.
It took her a moment before she seemed to gather the will to speak. She looked everywhere but into Bruce's eyes as she spoke. "I had a little sister. Maggie. Dino Agnoli hit her with his car and killed her when she was three. Hit and run. He got off scot-free, I'm assuming because he paid off the judge. A month later was when the Falcones supposedly ran them out of town." She drew a breath, intently studying the cuffs as she added, "My dad drank himself to death, he couldn't take it. Neither could my mom, but it took her a couple more years to give up. She shot herself while I was at school, and I came home and found her. I was ten."
He knew of her parents' deaths, from their past conversations, but he never knew that she'd had a sister. The story had him reeling. "Selina..."
"So yeah," she interrupted, finally meeting Bruce's eyes. "I'm here for revenge. I want to take away Dino's youngest kid the way he took away my parents' youngest kid. I've tried for years to track them down, and I've never been able to. Not even when we went to Italy, and trust me, I tried, because I knew they were there somewhere."
"Selina... revenge isn't justice. I know what you're feeling - I do - but..."
"Oh please," Selina scoffed. "Sure, you know how I feel because what, you brought a gun to a court hearing twenty years ago?"
"No, I know how you feel because I've spent my life letting my parents' death control every move I've made, and I don't want to see you throw away your life on revenge," Bruce said fiercely. "You think it'll satisfy you, but it won't. It doesn't bring them back."
Selina shook her head, looking away from him. "That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" Bruce asked. "Fairness? I've watched innocent people die for the sake of 'fairness' before."
"You know that guy I tried to kill? Their youngest son? He's had three rape cases against him thrown out by judges his family's paid off. He's not an innocent little boy, Bruce."
"No. But you're better than this."
"What if I'm not?" Selina challenged. "What makes you think I am? Because one time I helped you save a city? How about everything else? How about how I fucked you over and left you for dead, or how when I'm bored I show up and ruin your life for kicks and then disappear? How the hell can you be stupid enough to think I'm better than this?"
Bruce stared at her, her skin covered in the evidence of his unknowing assault upon her, and for the first time since they'd first met, he thought that maybe she was right. Maybe there really wasn't more to her. Maybe this was all she was - cold, calculating, self-serving, unloving.
But then he looked into her eyes, and all that he could see was himself. The same pain, the same demons, the same drive that made them chase what they thought they needed to function and be fulfilled, no matter how many times the consequences left them empty and alone.
They were the same. And, he thought, maybe that was why it could never work for them.
"Because I know you're better than this," he replied finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I love you too much to watch you destroy yourself."
Silence filled the air as the two of them stared at each other, Bruce with the bravery of a man who simply lacked the will to conceal his feelings anymore, and Selina with the fear and resistance of a woman who had survived this long by being alone and living without love.
Selina said nothing as Bruce then bent down and picked up the first aid kit. He began to clean and treat her wounds, painfully gently, unbearably sweetly, and when their eyes would meet, Selina would nearly recoil at the sheer intensity of it. His touch felt like fire, and it had nothing to do with her injuries.
He was cleaning her lip of dried blood when he leaned in and pressed a feather-soft kiss to her mouth. He couldn't stop himself, nor did he want to. It was his way of pleading, of begging her to accept him and the truth of what he was telling her.
He felt her shudder under him, watched her eyes fill with tears as her arms rose and pulled him closer, cuffed hands behind his neck and breath shallow against his lips.
"We can go somewhere," Bruce murmured. "Anywhere. Please, Selina."
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she kept her eyes clenched shut as he rested his forehead against hers. Her fingers tangled gently in his hair, and he thought that she just might agree to go with him this time.
He looked into her eyes as she drew back just slightly. Then he jerked backwards when she suddenly smashed her head into his, then removed her arms from around his neck and swiftly sent another blow to his head. He slumped back in the chair, unconscious, and another tear escaped Selina's eye as she began to search him for the key to her cuffs.
Once she found it, and once the cuffs were off, she looked upon his limp figure - parted lips, closed eyes, bruised skin from where she'd hit him earlier - and one of her hands brushed some dark hair out of his eyes as she spoke her parting words.
"I love you too, you know. Stupid bastard."
And that was why, above all other reasons, she needed to leave and never be found by him again.
When Bruce awoke a few hours later, Dino Agnoli's youngest son was dead, and Selina was already on a flight out of Gotham.
The worst part was that Bruce wasn't even in the least bit surprised.
The death of the Agnoli son escalated the fight in Gotham to new levels. Dino, mad with grief and having nobody to pin the murder on, blamed the city's vigilante for the murder and made it his purpose to stamp Nightwing out and make him an example to others, and to the world, that Gotham was done humoring the likes of him. But the people were on Nightwing's side, and so was Jim Gordon, as well as Lucius Fox, and a new district attorney. It was all a bit of déjà vu to Bruce, who couldn't yet justify leaving the city, and wouldn't until the tide turned in Blake's favor.
After all, Bruce thought one night as he sat in the cave, the strand of pearls in his hand as he twirled it around his fingers absently and stared off into the darkness, in the end, what else did he have but this city, and this life? He might not have been out on the front lines anymore, and he may not have been under the cowl anymore, but that didn't really matter when he was still pulling the strings and still at the forefront of the fight for justice. He'd taken his work global, established a growing network of men and women to continue his fight, and if this was his legacy, and his sole purpose in this life, then that was okay. It was more than okay - he felt privileged to have brought about such change in the world.
But it didn't ease the sting of the fantasy that he'd lost. Selina Kyle was the reason that he was alive today, having once saved his life and then playing a very large role in his last-second decision to bail when he'd been hauling a nuclear bomb out over Gotham's bay. He remembered finding her after spending a month or two in the shadows, recovering and deciding his next move, and feeling that poisonously dangerous trickle of hope start to take hold from within.
But that had been his mistake. He should have known better than to pin any of his hopes on her.
Maybe they were destined to fall in and out of each other's lives until the end, entwined but not bound, twin worlds orbiting the same sun and occasionally meeting in an eclipse that would blind them both until they raced off in opposite directions.
He looked down at the pearls, tracing a few of the orbs with his thumb, wondering if he was just masochistic enough to accept that fate.
It was nearly a year after the mess in Gotham that Selina found herself in Belize. She was at the most expensive hotel there, surrounded by wealthy men just begging her to rob them blind, and it was completely her element. She was supposed to be enjoying herself, picking one of the idiots to use for a few days before leaving them a little less rich and disappearing, off to some place new to see what kind of trouble she could find there.
But, try as she may, she couldn't enjoy herself. Everything in life gets old and repetitive after awhile, and maybe she'd finally seen too much, reached a point of no return, to gain much pleasure from things such as this.
She retreated to her suite early, far too early, and kicked off her heels as the door locked behind her. She contemplated her next move as she moved about the room, letting her hair down and letting out a sigh that died abruptly on her lips when she noticed something on the nightstand that most certainly hadn't been there earlier tonight.
A strand of pearls, unmistakable ones, lying on top of a piece of folded hotel paper. She picked up the necklace in one hand and picked up the paper with the other, her heart starting to race as she opened it to find familiar handwriting.
You were right, the scribble said. Maybe we are destined to do this forever.
Then underneath those words was an address in Tokyo. Her eyes quickly scanned the final line on the paper.
Could use your help with a diamond. See you there next week.
Selina shook her head, unable to stop the smile that grew on her lips. He really was a masochistic bastard. But she couldn't dare judge him, because she was just as idiotic as he was.
She slid the familiar pearls around her neck, knowing he'd probably snatch them back again someday, but she'd sure as hell enjoy them while she had them. She admired her reflection in a vanity mirror, then glanced down at the paper one more time before smirking one more time.
Tokyo it is.
A/N: first and foremost, my thanks to Cansei de ser Sexy and midnightwings96 for reading this beforehand and encouraging me, I'm always prone to self-doubt and they are wonderful, amazing ladies. You can thank the former for the song used here, One More Night by Maroon 5 (in case some of you didn't recognize the lyrics), and I thank her for that lovely addition to the story (as well as her thoughts and suggestions, and that goes for both ladies :D). I had this idea in my head for a long time, since I read some of the Batman Incorporated comics awhile back, and I finally managed to write it all down. Let me know what you guys think! Consider this the antithesis to my other stories, with their happy endings :p