With cat-like grace Selena Kyle glided in through the window of the eighth storey apartment that was her current safe house. Immediately she drew the thick drapes. Still clasping the black material in her hands, she closed her eyes for a moment in the darkness and let her panting breaths even out. She started for a moment when she felt a brush of warmth against her calf, then smiled.
"Hi, Isis." Her petite black cat purred back in greeting, circling Selena's legs while leaning her entire body into them. Finally she released the curtains and scooped Isis up, careful not to poke her with her clawed gloves, and cuddled her against her chest. Carrying her cat over into the bedroom, she went over to the mirror next to the bed, examining herself in the dim lamplight.
Her face beamed back at her. The porcelain white of her face contrasted starkly against the black of her mask and catsuit, save for the blush of red on her cheeks. She had done it. She was in the clear. She was filled with relief, exhilaration and pride all at once. Setting Isis on the bed, she reached for the satchel on her waist.
Carefully she pulled out a necklace. A leather cord laced through ten jaguar canine teeth. In the middle was a beautiful hand-carved jade jaguar with a snarling face and one paw lifted. The symbolism was what made it beautiful to her personally. What made it priceless, however, was that it was a 2000 year old Aztec artifact worn by a shaman in a cult of jaguar worshipers. After laying low for a while, she planned to have Oswalt channel it through his connections to get it to auction. Private collectors and museums alike would go rabid for it. The necklace had been stolen 30 years before from a museum. She had simply stolen it back and would bring it to market. No, not simply. Spectacularly. The original thief had quite the security system. It had taken her months of planning to pull it off.
She had almost gotten away without a fight but he had known. Somehow he always knew. She frowned and put the necklace back in the satchel, then put it in a safe behind the mirror. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and thoughts of the Bat sobered her further. She pushed away a brief flush of guilt. Tugging her mask back she released her blonde hair. It hung limp and damp from sweat. She peeled out of the rest of her catsuit. He had bruised her shoulder when he had grabbed it, the imprints of his fingertips marked on her flesh. She put her hand to them and shivered. She left her reflection and stepped into a hot, steaming shower.
Selena couldn't help but replay their dance in her head, always the same after he caught her stealing. He would look so disappointed when he caught up to her, imploring her to return what she had taken. Remind her of how well they had worked together when they were on the same side. Remind her with a firm caress how much he cared for her. She would look into his eyes beyond the hardened cowl and see the softness and hope there. Silently they would ask her what they always did. "Do you love me enough to stop?"
She would melt a little then at this mystery of a man behind the guise of a bat, who struck terror into the hearts of all villains in Gotham. All besides her. Sometimes she wondered why he always fell for it. Why he always let his guard down for her. Tonight she finally realized it was because in that moment, when she clung to him and kissed him, that she did love him too. He could feel the honesty in her touch and see it in her eyes.
Then the moment would pass for Selena, and she was only Catwoman again, the best cat burglar that had ever lived. She would remember her score and the rush that stealing it brought her. She wasn't ready to give it up. She didn't want to return her prize or go to jail again. His guard would be down and she would strike, fast and hard against him. He was an extraordinary fighter and he didn't pull his punches but usually she managed to free herself of him and get away. Her retaliation against him hurt more than just his body. The betrayal in his eyes haunted her for days after their encounters.
She leaned her forehead against the tiles of the shower stall and let the water flow over her, soothing her nerves. She asked the question in a whisper that was always on her lips as she fled from him. "Do you love me enough to accept who I am?"