A/N: So here is the next bit, I'm really just writing one piece after another so I suppose this is more like a series of drabbles and one-shots. I'm still posting them the way they are because it's how the story works. Hope that doesn't put too many people off.


New York was a different beast than Gotham ever was. Bigger, badder and so much easier. Life was so diverse here and classes weren't as easy to label anyone with. It was fresh and stale to Selina. The city felt alive and full of life. There was death but no foul oder of decay that was infused within like Gotham. This city was exactly where Selina did not want to be.

It was an intoxicating place to be, what with the lights and the sounds and the jewelry stores and rich people's pockets and museums filled with priceless artifacts ready for the taking. But none of that appealed to Selina. She had spent most of her adult life worming and stealing her way into those lives to live them and rob them, but she didn't want it. She stole from the rich to feed herself and keep a roof over her head while buying a few nice things to spread the wealth a bit. And that was it.

Well that and the thrill. Adrenaline was her drug and an overdose hadn't been in her future. But then Bane showed up and the Batman came back and now she was sober.

And Selina Kyle planned on staying that way once the Clean Slate had run its course.

Of course she had to check and make sure it was true, but she trusted Bruce. Which is why, she now knew, it hurt so goddamned much that he was gone in the most noble and selfless of ways.

Sitting in a Café with free wifi and public computers, Selina watched as database after database was wiped clean a of her. It was gratifying after all she had dealt with in her life. The horrible rich snobs with grabby hands and illegal hobbies and business practices that were borderline criminal and downright immoral. She could feel it lifting off her shoulders and shedding from her skin like a fur coat getting ready for spring. She was no longer Catwoman- a dumb and not unoriginal name she really had liked- but Selina Kyle. With no criminal record or any record. Anywhere! And that made the whole thing so much easier.


Her hotel was small and cheap. The tiny town of Santa, Idaho had to be the last place anyone ever looked for her. Come on: Santa, Idaho? Who would think of a place like that, let alone name it like that. Besides, she wouldn't be staying for very long. Just until the jet lag and exhaustion of driving the car she had rented (actually rented!) had worn off and she was ready to keep going.

The bed was soft for somewhere so cheap and unknown. The sheets clean and crisp in a real way. Not that sterile dry clean or mass laundry way. But in a 'Mom and Pop' washer and left out to dry in the wind and sun way. It smelled like the air here. Warm and fresh with earth seeping into everything. Not asphalt and exhaust. It made her smile lightly and snuggle deeper into the duvet and fluffy pillows. Something about this made her want more.

After years of wanting to stick it to those with more and trying to protect those with nothing, this ignorant in between was like heaven. Just too damned easy. And exactly what she knew she couldn't do. She had a new life now, but only because of one man.

Batman: Bruce Wayne.

She could think about him and that day without crying now, but it still left an awful ache in her chest. He had given up his life for her. Well all of Gotham, but she was included. And it made her feel better to think that she had been among his last thoughts.

Selina pretended not to feel the pillows getting wet as she cried herself to sleep. Again.


The news was playing in the small town bar when she walked in. It was hot in Arizona and Selina knew she was 'out' the minute she stopped her bike. It was a bit of a splurge and she knew she might regret it but Selina also knew it was the right choice for her. No matter how similar it was to the BatPod.

Gotham had been on there a lot, but tonight was the unveiling of the big tribute to those who fell ending Bane's rule. She had to order a shot just to watch it.

Commissioner Gordon was giving a speech about those who died and those who lived. And the reason why. A blackened figure looked down upon the camera with the intensity of the Batman himself. Her chin wobbled and the air felt hot and sticky in the bar even though she knew there had been air conditioning when she walked in. The news played on as she fought back tears and her shot. Vodka felt good burning its way down, not up. It looked so much and nothin like him.

Bruce Wayne's name came up on the list of the dead and the anchorman explained there had been a small, closed funeral.

For an empty coffin.

She ordered another shot. This wasn't him either. The playboy billionaire with more time than brains and a company that had run itself into the ground all for a good cause, but a fruitless one.

Both masks and neither one a whole picture. Even together they didn't tell his story or express his true self- whatever that was.

Selina left the bar before the alcohol could settle and threw it up a half mile later.