She could see the floor of the exhibit hall rushing toward her. The shadows and the spotlights on the glass cases skewed her vision. Catwoman had trouble seeing straight. A terra cotta pitcher with ancient inscriptions etched on its surface danced in her periphery. Catwoman fought the disorientation of the dream state to try and bring the pitcher into view. Suddenly, the case popped up in front of her—but it was empty. Somehow, she was not confused by this; her immediate impression was that somehow she had taken it. The case itself remained intact, and there were no alarms; a testament to her skill. Her perspective seemed to advance through the hall, exploring the other exhibits. The result was always the same. Jade figurines? Gone. Ebony flasks? Vanished. A set of bronze ceremonial knives? Disappeared. Each time, Catwoman moved on as if satisfied with a job well done. At last she came to the centerpiece of the exhibit: a large golden sarcophagus of some sort. Catwoman advanced; for once this particular item stayed in her field of vision without swirling and jumping out of sight. She was close enough to see the glass surrounding it. Her fingers tingled as she reached toward it—
Selina jumped awake. She instinctively reached for Bruce beside her... But he was not there. She heard laughter echoing through the house, which reminded her why she was spending the night in the guest room. Selina smacked herself in the face with a pillow and flopped back in bed to puzzle over her dream.
It was always the same dream every night. Always the same items in the exhibit hall, always disappearing, always her doing. The sequence was becoming as familiar as a memory to her; but she knew the insides of every art museum in Gotham, and none looked quite like this one. The most troubling aspect was the ease with which she slipped back into the thief mindset.
I'm not a thief anymore, her mind screamed, desperate to rid itself of the alter ego she no longer needed. There was no reason for Catwoman anymore, because she had Bruce—didn't she?

Selina trudged to the master suite for a fresh outfit, almost dreading what she would find there. She opened the door and found Bruce alone amid a tangle of sheets. Pillows littered the floor. Jasmyne must have wobbled on home in the early hours. Selina hoped grimly that she was carried there by a taxi—about five yards on the hood of a taxi, that is. She didn't look at Bruce so he would not see the smirk on her face.
She barely heard his relaxed sigh before his chest rested against her back and his arms folded over her shoulders. She tried to push away from him, but he held her tight in his firm embrace. Was it not just yesterday that she was thinking about how safe she felt when he held her? His breath smelled of cognac and strawberries. No doubt she would find the container sitting on the counter in the kitchen.
Finally, she slipped out of his grasp and proceeded further into the closet.
"Did you have a good time last night?" she asked. Coming from a woman scorned, it was more of a trick question. Any guy with his wits about him would know better than to answer this question.
"Mm-hm...yeah, I did."
Apparently, Bruce did not have his wits about him. He rubbed his face and stretched as Selina emerged from the closet and went to the bathroom to wash her face. "Did you?" he murmured.
Selina knew that if she had anything in her hands just then, she would certainly snap it in half. The nerve of him!
"Yeah," she kept her voice even, in spite of the seething rage inside her, "I did." Three deep breaths, and she could groom herself without breaking anything.
She heard Bruce rummaging in the closet for a suit. "Is Jasmyne coming over again tonight?" she inquired casually.
Bruce stood before the mirror and tied his tie. "Of course not," he replied immediately, "It's just you and me, baby."
You and me, baby... Selina wanted to hurl at the way he said it.
"Just making sure you weren't completely losing your head," she murmured, more for herself than for him.
"Losing my what?"
"Never mind." Selina finished in front of the mirror. She stood and walked past Bruce, who sat sprawled on their short lounge, watching the latest news on TV in the few short minutes before heading to the office.
Selina paused; was now a good time?
"Bruce," she began, "do you remember that thing we talked about the other night?"
He never took his eyes off the news. "What thing?"
Selina sighed, "That conversation we had about—" she faltered; was he even listening? "life," she finished.
He did not react. "Oh—no, I don't remember. What about life?"
Selina decided to forgo formality and keep up the ruse of friendship. She sat very close to him on the lounge and draped an arm around his shoulder.
"Well, if we're going to be living together—" she laid the emphasis so thick that he would have to be deaf not to miss it, "I thought we might lay some ground rules." She planted a kiss on his cheek for good measure.
Bruce blinked, "Didn't we have that conversation already? I don't recall."
Selina frowned at him. "Never mind," she stood. "Soo… lunch today?"
Bruce smiled, "I think I can swing it."
Selina dismissed her confusion and winked at him, "Won't your boss be mad?"
Bruce let her grab his hands and pull him to his feet. "I'll find some way to smooth it over," he joked.
Selina smirked, "Hmm, maybe I can persuade him."
Bruce reached for her, but she laughed and sidestepped his reach.
"See you later," she said and walked out the door.

Bruce rode to Wayne Tower, and took the private elevator that went straight to his office. The quiet, extended ride gave him a space of time to think. Something bothered Selina, and he couldn't shake the sensation that she held him responsible.
The minute he exited the elevator, his secretary Adair met him with a full agenda on her tablet.
"Mr. Wayne," she didn't waste a moment, "I've got Bonnet Supplements on the phone, and there are a dozen proposals waiting in your office..."
Bruce kept himself calm as he followed her, but inwardly he groaned. Maybe he should have never announced Wayne Enterprises intention to offer its financial support to independent businesses; sure, it was great for the public image, but he had contractors looking for their next big break in distribution and popularity materializing out of the woodwork. He accepted the phone from Adair and spoke with the representative of Bonnet Organic Supplements, agreeing to a dollar-match pledge with the company's startup costs. When he finished, Adair handed him a pen and he signed off on a new children's play park, a line of educational toys, a jewelry store, and a sporting goods consignment venture. There was a proposal for a new, affordable hotel, and one for developing nice, low-rent, cost efficient homes for Gotham's poorer residents. Bruce Wayne sat and tried to listen as salesmen pitched ideas at him from every different angle. He had no idea of the passage of time until Adair came in after the last group exited the office. Bruce rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. It was nearly lunchtime already. Adair grinned at his fatigue.
"Is the day nearly over yet?" Bruce joked in an exaggerated whiny voice.
"You're halfway there, Chief," she chirped. "Betcha wish you had that other deal back on the table, don't you?"
Bruce dropped the act, "What deal?"
Adair glanced down, "The deal you signed last week, with the one startup that had connections out West—very profitable for everyone involved."
"What was the company?"
Adair looked at her boss nervously, "You don't remember?"
Bruce shrugged, "I'm drawing a blank, Addie; must be the helluva weekend I had."
Adair nodded. "Well, I guess that can be expected. Tell you what, I can see if I can get the information on that particular deal sent up to you within the next few days sometime."
Bruce stood and prepared to take his lunch hour. "That would be great—"

The minute he left his office, a wave of relief swept over him. Sitting at his desk began to remind him of the reocurring dream. He had to get away from that. The warbling voice began to echo through his mind; had this man brought in the deal that he couldn't remember? He would find out soon enough. He couldn't let it get to him.
Keep it together, Bruce, he told himself.

He was so distracted by the mystery of it all that he stepped into the open elevator before he realized it was not his private car. One of the secretaries stood in the corner. She smiled shyly at him. Bruce smiled back.
"Hi, I'm Bruce," he extended his hand.
She took it. Bruce smelled a delicious perfume.
"Helena," she said.

Several floors below, Selina gathered her purse with a relieved sigh. Lunch at last! She could do with a sense of her new life, after being so constantly reminded of her old one. She pressed the elevator call button and wondered if Bruce was already in the lobby waiting for her.
The door opened, and Selina saw that Helena the hopeless flirt hunched against someone in the corner. She rolled her eyes and boarded the elevator as Helena whispered to her companion, "Wanna go somewhere private for lunch?"
Selina rolled her eyes.
The person murmured back, "Sure."
Selina whirled upon them, totally flabbergasted. She felt numb with shock as Bruce walked out with Helena.
Selina was torn; part of her wanted to accost the two-timer, to expose Helena for the shallow bitch she was; but really, Bruce had never settled for just one girl in his life. Why did Selina ever assume that she could claim exclusive rights to another person? He wasn't her slave, for pete's sake!
And yet... Selina mused as she headed to the food court for a lonely meal, was it so hard for him not to treat her like a live-in girlfriend?

When Bruce awoke in the middle of the night, Selina was waiting for him. She had started from her slumber just ten minutes prior because of the dream again. She felt Bruce leave the bed, and she waited till his bare feet left the room before getting up herself. Once and for all, she would find out where he went every night.

She found him pacing the landing at the top of the stairs; the moonlight through the tall bay windows caused strange shadows over his figure. He stopped, and Selina knew he'd seen her. She climbed the stairs toward him.
"Is something wrong?" she asked him.
Bruce blinked and shook his head, wiping his forehead as if dispelling a shadow.
"Nothing's wrong," he said shortly.
Selina waited for an explanation, but none came.
"Come back to bed, then," she tested him.
He waved her away, "I'll be there in a minute."
Selina backed away; he sounded extraordinarily exhausted, more tired than she'd ever seen him. Maybe it was just poor sleep quality, after all. At any rate, it wasn't a romantic tryst, she could know.

The next morning, Bruce awoke from a sleep only interrupted by the nightmares to find that, sometime during the night, Selina had moved all her clothes (and herself) out of the room. He jumped up, "Selina?" Where had she gone? He knew she had been there when they both went to bed; had she just decided to leave him? He moved into the hallway.
"Selina?"
The door to the guest room was open. Bruce peeked inside and saw everything piled around the room. Her pajamas lay in a heap on the floor. He found a note on the bed.

"So you noticed? Fine. I'll be sleeping here till you feel like telling me what's going on. -Selina"

"What's going on?" Bruce muttered to himself as he returned to the bedroom to dress. He was wondering the same thing himself!

*A/N: This is all I have so far! I will post more as soon as it is written! Thanks for waiting! -KM