A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review or follow this story. Had to change the rating for this, but I doubt anyone will complain. :) Let me know what you think :)
In the end, Selina chose to purchase rather than steal the body-hugging black dress that caught her eye in the window of a boutique not far from the art gallery. It would have been exceedingly easy to swipe, because the boutique's owner and sole staffer were busy fussing over some high-society bint who was bemoaning not having the shop closed so that she could browse in solitude, but Selina didn't mind spending Bruce's money the way that she despised spending her own.
However, as she paid for the dress, the obnoxious woman passed behind her and spoke loudly in Italian, "Take this girl for example... she looks like she's one to frequent the second hand shops, and I doubt if she even speaks our language... yes, she has American written all over her! Why should I even bother giving my euros to a place that caters to such undesirables?"
Selina smiled and took her newly bagged dress from the frazzled and sympathetic looking staffer, and when she turned around, was pleased to see that the woman was standing only a few feet directly behind her, examining a silk scarf with her nose in the air. A thin bracelet sparkled from the woman's too-thin wrist, and with a noise of disgust, she tossed the scarf to the floor.
A familiar rush of excitement gave birth in her veins, and Selina took a few steps before feigning tripping just before she would have passed the woman, throwing herself in her direction and planting the sharp heel of her boots into the woman's sandaled, exposed foot while her hand grabbed the woman's arm in an apparent attempt to steady herself. The bracelet was off long before the woman had the chance to notice it's absence.
"Mi scusi!" Selina exclaimed as she let go and watched the woman's arms flail about, shrieking as if she'd just gotten truly stabbed somewhere much worse than a foot. Selina removed her heel and put on her best falsely apologetic face as the woman's handlers circled around her and began nearly panicking themselves. "I'm just so clumsy! Oh, are you all right, madam?"
The woman stopped wailing long enough to glare at Selina and then barked in Italian, "See, what did I tell you? 'Mi scusi', ha! No doubt only one of three Italian words she knows!"
Selina smiled and apologized sweetly a few more times before walking away and out of the shop, slipping the lovely little diamond and platinum bracelet on her wrist when she was back on the sidewalk. Maybe she didn't have to steal to survive anymore, but it didn't mean she was opposed to stealing from those who deserved it.
She returned home to find the man she'd called to repair her bedroom door waiting outside of her apartment. She let him in and made herself a cup of tea while he worked, sipping the hot liquid while admiring the new imported lamps she'd picked up last night to replace the broken ones. In fact, depending on how much the new door ended up costing, she may have enough money left over for another small home improvement. She thought she may just have to let Bruce come over more often and destroy more of her belongings while in the throes of passion, if this is what resulted.
The repairman was young and surprisingly handsome, and after he was done installing the new door, she had to deny his suggestion of an alternative form of payment. If he had done this two days prior, she might have considered it, if only for how sexually deprived she'd been for longer than she cared to think about, but after Bruce's visit, she wasn't tempted in the least.
After sending away the slightly disappointed boy, she closed the front door and checked the time on her cell phone. If she was going to look her best tonight, now was a good time to begin her preparations.
At 5:55 P.M., Selina walked down the staircase and into her sitting room, peeking out the window next to the front door and finding nothing. She turned and opened the small clutch in her hands and retrieved a mirror, checking her reflection one last time.
Her lips were red and perfect; her hair was longer than it used to be and fell freely over her shoulders, much more comfortable than if she'd put it up in a knot, and anyway, she always preferred her hair down; her new dress fit like a glove and placed each curve on a display, the hem ending at her mid-thigh, covering just enough to allow her to have her gun on her person. She really didn't care if Bruce liked it or not - she preferred to be armed at all times, regardless of if she could protect herself without the aid of a weapon.
She was adjusting the strand of perfect white pearls that sat upon her neck when clock struck six, and her doorbell rang precisely then. She dropped the mirror into her clutch and took hold of the doorknob, twisting it and opening the door to reveal the slightly smiling, entirely disarmingly sexy, Bruce Wayne.
"Miss Kyle," he said with a slight nod, and one hand sitting lazily in a pocket of his crisp suit.
Her lips quirked into a half smile before her eyes were drawn to the vehicle that looked as if it were taking up nearly the entire parking lot. "I see you spared no expense."
He glanced back at the limousine and then turned back to her. "Well, this way I don't have to worry as much about you stealing my car and leaving me stranded." He extended his hand. "Shall we?"
She took his hand and the stolen bracelet grazed his sleeve. His eyes moved from the thin diamond strand to to the rest of her, and ended where his mother's pearls sat on her neck. "You look exceptionally beautiful tonight," he murmured, leading her out into the cool night air.
"You're too kind," she smirked, linking her arm with his as they walked. A small girl who looked to be around the age of nine gawked from atop a pink bicycle at them from and their form of transportation from across the complex, and Selina smiled at the girl.
They reached the limousine, and Bruce opened the door closest to the rear of the vehicle, motioning for her to enter. "I have to admit, I'm a fan of the dress," he said, appreciating the view from behind nearly as much as he did the one from the front.
"You should be," she said, sliding inside and on to the cool leather seats. "You paid for it."
He closed the door and shook his head with a small smile, taking his place next to her inside the limo a moment later.
When the engine purred to life almost inaudibly and the suit-clad driver began steering them back towards the road, Selina took in her almost obnoxiously luxurious surroundings. The backseat was complete with a bucket of ice and what she assumed was the finest bubbly money could buy, a flat screen television that was turned off, and everything else she would expect to find in such an unnecessary display of wealth. Still, she wasn't complaining. "I take it your 'emergency fund' is rather sizable."
"Wouldn't be much good to me if it wasn't, would it?" he replied. "Champagne?"
"I don't see why not," she said. "So, where are we going?"
"To dinner," he answered, producing two small glasses from a compartment before raising the champagne bottle from the ice.
"You don't say."
His lips quirked into a smile as he uncorked the bottle. She watched his fingers at work and it brought back a memory from two nights ago that would have made a lesser woman blush.
A glassful of golden liquid was suddenly under her nose. She took the glass and they locked eyes for a moment, enough to make Selina feel plenty warm without the aid of alcohol, and she was the one to look away first.
She watched buildings pass outside of the tinted windows as she sipped the champagne, a tingle erupting in the pit of her stomach when two fingers grazed her left wrist. "Nice bracelet."
"Thanks, I thought so too," she smirked, looking down and admiring the jewelry.
Bruce gently lifted her wrist closer to his eyes. "Platinum, am I right?"
She thought so, because it felt heavier than it should have had it been made of white gold or silver, but of course, she hadn't had the chance to ask that horrid woman she'd stolen it from. "I believe so."
He gave her a look, and she returned it with one that said, go ahead, I dare you. One thing she wasn't in the mood for was a lecture about the moral implications of stealing. Instead of speaking, he pressed a kiss to her hand and then placed it back at her side. She ignored how the tingle had grown to a steady pulsing with just the one chaste kiss and continued drinking.
The ride to the restaurant didn't feel long, and the next time Selina looked up, she saw that they were approaching one of the tallest buildings in downtown Florence. She knew there was a fine dining restaurant at the very top of the building, and it had been on her list of places to con someone rich into taking her, so she was quite pleased.
The limousine stopped in front of the building, and Selina waited while Bruce exited the limo and came around to open her door for her. She set down her glass and, when the door opened, took the hand that was offered to her, and stepped out into the slightly chilly night air once more.
He didn't let go of her hand until they reached the top of the hotel, spending the elevator ride in uncharacteristic silence. Selina chalked it up to the other two couples that had accompanied them - neither of them could speak freely in front of anyone but one another. She hadn't thought of this before, and it made her feel strange, like nobody in the world would ever know her the way this man would. At least it was surely the same for Bruce as well.
They stepped out of the elevator and into pure elegance, as she'd expected, and their table awaited them at the end of the room with the grandest view of the city through spotless full-length windows.
They took seats opposite one another and Selina watched Bruce as he ordered drinks for them in Italian, and the pulsing in her gut returned from its momentary absence. She couldn't help it - even she couldn't pretend the man speaking this language wasn't sexy enough to make her feel almost giddy. Unless that was the champagne already at work, but she doubted that.
The server bustled away, and Bruce turned his eyes to Selina, who hadn't taken her eyes off him since they sat down. "I hope this place is to your liking."
"So do I," she replied. "Mind telling me why you're trying to get me drunk?"
"A little champagne on the way and a glass of wine with dinner shouldn't get you drunk," he said, referring to the bottle of wine he'd just ordered them.
"I've never particularly enjoyed being drunk," she said. "I don't like dulled senses, or not being fully in control of my body. I don't even know the last time I was drunk."
His head shifted to the side a little bit, as if in agreement. "Still, I think you're safe enough with me to have a drink or two tonight. But only if you want to."
She smiled. "I'm not safe anywhere. You of all people should realize that." When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I've been making enemies my whole life, and it's only a matter of time before I run into one of them. Even halfway around the world from Gotham. I can't let my guard down for anyone."
Two large glasses and a bottle of the restaurant's finest red wine was placed upon the table. Selina went to open her menu but Bruce began ordering before she could even graze the list of entrees.
The server filled their glasses and then shuffled away with their menus, and Selina eyed Bruce with slight annoyance. He quickly said, "What?"
"Not every woman finds a man choosing her food to be romantic."
"I wasn't trying to be romantic," he said. "Just testing how well I've come to understand you."
She sipped from her glass of wine and almost couldn't believe how delicious it was. She took another sip and was distracted enough that Bruce's voice caught her off guard.
"Why did you come back?"
She furrowed her brows just slightly and set her glass down. "What do you mean?"
"In Gotham," he said. "Why did you come back instead of fleeing when you had the chance?"
Oh, that, she thought. That was something she wasn't sure she understood herself. "Would you rather I left you to be murdered slowly and cruelly by Bane?"
"I'm asking why," he pressed.
"I never asked you why you decided to swoop in and get me out of my own tight situation with Bane before everything went to hell," she retorted.
"I'd answer if you did ask me," he said. When she didn't reply, he said, "Fine, then at least answer me this - did you do it for me, or for Gotham?"
The questions were getting annoying. At least she had the decency of keeping her multitude of questions to herself - why couldn't he do the same? "Does it matter?"
"It matters to me," he replied.
"Maybe it was because I didn't want to watch the city I grew up in get vaporized," she said. "Or maybe I didn't want to leave you for dead a second time. You can believe whatever you prefer."
"I always knew I was right about you," he said, enjoying her annoyance flit across her features at these words. "I knew there was more to you."
When he said it, it sounded more believable than it ever had before. But that didn't mean it was true. "You truly are the consummate idealist, Mr. Wa - 'John'." She paused. "That's going to take some getting used to."
"Your name's easier to remember," Bruce grinned. "By the way - what happened to the BatPod?"
"Ah, the BatPod," she smiled. "That was difficult to get moved to Italy."
"It's here?"
She nodded. "It's safe."
"How did you get it over here?" he asked, interest piqued.
"With someone else's money and the help of some drug lords who had extra room on their vessel that was headed to port here."
Bruce's eyes widened, and she almost laughed at him. "It still works?"
"Of course it does," she replied. "I can take you visit it one of these days."
He paused before saying, "No, that's all right."
She studied him for a moment, silence lasting a moment or two before she asked, "How badly do you miss Gotham?"
A took a moment, and a drink of wine, before answering. "A part of me misses it as much as you'd expect. The other part is glad I never have to step foot there again."
She didn't know his full story, but she saw a lifetime's worth of pain behind his eyes. She'd always seen it, when she took the time to look for it. "But if you could, you'd go back."
He raised his eyes to her, and slowly nodded. "Of course I would."
She leaned forward a bit. "I don't know why you became the Batman, and I barely know anything about who you are underneath your masks. But, I can see that Gotham has put you through hell, and that's an understatement. Your body is damaged and yet it's probably more intact than the rest of you. So why do you miss it at all? What's ever been there for you, besides a big pile of cash and a house big enough to get lost in?"
"If you don't answer my questions, I don't see why I should answer yours," he retorted, though she could see his amusement being masked by the glass he brought to his lips.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I felt guilty after what I did to you. And after everything that happened, I didn't want you to die. I went back for you. Happy?"
Bruce looked as surprised as she felt. The words had tumbled out, formed out of nowhere, and she instantly wanted to retract them. Is that even really how she felt? But the words felt right, now that she'd said them out loud.
Their eyes met, and something changed in his. It was subtle, but it was there. Then it was gone. "My parents - for me, it all goes back to my parents. They did so much to help Gotham in their lives, and their deaths shaped my life in more ways than you'd believe. If you wanted the whole story, we'd need a couple of hours."
"What I don't understand," she said, "is why you're here with me right now. I've screwed you over more times than I've helped you, and you don't know that I won't do it again."
"I think I do," he replied.
"Then you're dangerously presumptuous."
"I've been right about you so far, so why start doubting myself now?"
"Because anyone who trusts me is only setting themselves up for disappointment," she replied, an edge to her voice.
Bruce's eyebrows lowered on his forehead and he looked down as he said, "I gave you a way out. A way to start over, and have a better life. You don't have to live like you used to, or limit yourself to this kind of thinking that -"
"That what?"
Bruce reached across the table and fingered her bracelet. "That it's okay to do this. You know better than anyone you can only outrun yourself for so long before it catches up with you."
"If you're here because you want to 'change' me," she cut him off, anger evident in her voice and flashing in her dark eyes, "or make me 'see the light', or whatever it is you're getting at, then feel free to go to hell. I'm fine with who I am, and I sure as hell won't change for any man. Not even Bruce Wayne."
She didn't bother to lower her voice when she said his name, and just as the words left her mouth, their dishes arrived. An awkward silence fell and Bruce quietly thanked the server, while Selina stared down into her plate, still seething.
Who did Bruce think he was? He didn't know anything about her, or what made her the person she was today. Maybe he had some nice little fantasy of taming her or domesticating her, and if he did, he had quite another thing coming. He should know by now that she was nothing if not completely her own person.
She picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of sauce-smothered chicken.
"Look, I'm sorry -"
"Don't," she snapped, shoving the chicken in her mouth, hoping she would hate it. She didn't, of course - in fact, it was probably the most delicious bit of poultry she'd ever had. The entire dish was a combination of sweet, savory and just a little bit spicy, and she found it to be perfect.
Bruce broke the silence first. "How is it?"
She wanted to lie and say it was terrible, and that he should never make another suggestion to her for anything, not even food. "Fine," she said flatly.
The rest of the dinner went by like this, with a silence so awkward it could have been cut like butter. Bruce felt like an idiot, and Selina wanted to bite his head off some more, but as a compromise, they stayed silent until their plates were empty.
"Would you like dessert?" Bruce finally asked.
She shook her head. He nodded. A few minutes later, they were back in the elevator. A wider space separated them this time compared to when they'd arrived.
The limousine was waiting for them when they stepped outside, and Bruce opened her door for her wordlessly. She slid inside and crossed her legs as he closed the door, keeping as far to her side as was possible while he climbed in next to her.
"I had something else planned, but -"
"Take me home."
He nodded, instructed the driver, and then pushed a button near the window controls that raised a soundproof divider between their compartment and the rest of the vehicle. Selina looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"
He moved closer to her, and she tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. "Selina, listen to me."
The sound of her first name falling from his lips brought back the tingle in her stomach.
"I'm sorry for what I said. I don't want to change you. I don't. It's just that when you sit there and talk about yourself like you're this irredeemable person -"
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Would you listen to yourself? I've stolen, I've lied, I've killed, and I don't regret it. I've done what I've had to do to survive my whole life, on my own, and it's not going to change. I'm not moral, I don't fit into your definition of 'good', and -"
"Now you're the one being dangerously presumptuous," Bruce interrupted.
She stared at him through hardened eyes, her heart rate picking up. "Tell me you didn't curse my very existence every day you spent enduring what Bane put you through. Tell me you didn't hate me all of those months. Tell me there isn't a part of you that still hates me."
"Do you really think that you closing the door on me was what sealed my fate?" he retorted. "Do you think that if you hadn't taken me to him that I wouldn't have just gone and found him myself? As soon as I stepped foot in there I wasn't coming out. But the fact that you're so intent on blaming yourself for it proves that you're not what you think you are."
Suddenly he was close, too close, and his fingertips lifted up her chin to force her to look him in the eye. "I forgive you, Selina."
"I never apologized," she said defiantly.
"You have," he said, eyes flickering to her lips and back again. "You just don't realize it. Your eyes are full of regret every time you look at me."
"Maybe I regret that I saved you, because at least then you wouldn't be here being an ass."
Bruce smirked at this. "I told the driver to take the long way back to your place."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you say I'm the one being dangerously presumptuous."
He grinned for the split second it took to capture her lips with his. The hum in her gut burst into a fiery blaze that spread throughout her body and centered itself between her legs, and she almost gasped when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. This was so unlike her, and she could have kicked herself for having such a string reaction to just a mere kiss, but she couldn't help it. The pulsing between her legs was already painful, like it had been building up all night, just waiting to explode, even despite their argument. In fact, she wondered if it had heightened things somehow.
Her hands went from his collar to his hair and then his face while his followed suit, one tangled in her hair while his thumb brushed her cheek as the other hand traveled down the curve of her side to her hip. She pulled him to her hungrily and deepened the kiss as much as she could, arching towards him, rubbing her thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension.
He noticed this when he broke away panting, and quickly moved to claim her neck with his lips. It just might be his favorite part of her - long, elegant and extremely sensitive, and a soft moan escaped her lips when his made contact with the soft flesh there.
She immediately winced when she heard herself make the noise, accidentally tugging his hair in her frustration. He didn't mind this - in fact, he rather liked it.
Then his lips found hers again, and the hand that was on her hip before moved to her knees, which he gently parted before placing the hand in between her legs. She gasped into his mouth, praying that he wasn't teasing her, biting his bottom lip when he tried to pull away.
The hand moved maddeningly slowly up the curve of her inner thigh, and when his fingers reached the small gun holstered there, he removed it in a flash. She opened her eyes and watched as he ejected the clip from the gun and then tossed the pieces away carelessly, not even bothering to break their kiss as he did it.
She didn't like being disarmed, but it was a recurring theme of their encounters, and he was the only man she'd ever let get away with it. If she'd stopped to think long enough of the implications of this, she may have recognized this to be a rare and uncharacteristic sign on trust on her part, but then his fingers brushed feather-softly against her core and she began moving against him again, desperate for more.
But his hand continued to fail her, retreating to her thigh everytime it got nearly close enough to where she needed it, she pulled his hair again when she thought she might expire from the sheer unmet need. "Come on," she breathed into his mouth.
His lips travelled to her ear, where they kissed the lobe there before his voice vibrated against her skin. "Say my name."
God, she thought - that almost sounded like the rough-as-sandpaper voice he used as the Batman. Now the throbbing was officially unbearable.
"Say it," he repeated.
Even in her state of need, she was still clearheaded enough to mess with him. "John Lambert," she breathed with a slight grin.
He growled, and short nails scraped painlessly against her thigh, only inches away from where she desperately needed his fingers to be. "My real name."
"Mr. Wayne," she panted, not wanting to give him anything he wanted until he gave her what she needed. He seemed to get the message.
He removed his lips from her ear and kissed her hard, pulling away to watch her as his fingers suddenly found their destination. Oh finally, she thought - but she moaned instead of sighing in relief. In seconds her panties were discarded and skilled fingers worked her bare, needy flesh. "Say my name."
This time, his voice sounded even rougher, greedier, and it was indistinguishable from that of the Batman. Not that she really noticed through the pleasure she was being wracked with. "B - Bruce."
She'd say his name all he wanted, in as many languages as he requested, for as long as he pleased, if this was what it got her.
She'd never met a more skilled set of fingers, and as they rubbed, prodded, and plunged, she writhed against his palm, clutching his hair, sometimes his tie, whatever was closest while his lips devoured her. When she couldn't hold back any longer and every muscle in her body began to clench, he claimed her lips once more, swallowing her moans as she came apart at the seams, a shaking and shuddering mess of satisfaction in his arms.
She could scold herself later for being so utterly pliant and, well, loud, later but for now, she she simply tried to catch her breath, returning his soft kisses as his hand slowly left the place he knew how to manipulate so well. It didn't go far, however, as it stayed on her thigh, stroking it gently as the vehicle hummed to a stop. She opened her eyes as Bruce pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.
It was the mystery swirling about his brown eyes that annoyed her, among other things, and her pleasant haze quickly faded. Bruce pulled down the hem of her dress so that it covered the tops of her legs once more before pressing a button to withdraw the divider between them and the driver.
He told the driver his work was done for the night, and Selina scooped up her gun into her bag as Bruce slipped out of the car and came around to open her door. A moment later, they were walking to her front door as the limousine quietly left the parking lot.
She took her key out of her bag and placed it inside the keyhole as Bruce's hands found her waist. His lips and nose grazed her neck from behind and she felt a distinct poke near her backside as his body pressed gently against hers, and it only further motivated her to make sure Bruce got what he deserved.
The lock clicked and she opened her door, then quickly turned around and kissed Bruce firmly on his lips. At this angle, the poke felt more like a large nudging. He tried to push her inside, but she stayed firm.
"Thank you for the lovely night, Bruce."
Then she swiftly stepped back and slammed the door in Bruce's bewildered face. She heard a slightly muffled "Seriously?" from behind the door, but he didn't knock or ring the doorbell, or make any attempt to ask her to reconsider leaving him hanging.
She didn't stop grinning until she was upstairs, in her bedroom, taking off her pearls and platinum bracelet, as well as her dress. She slept well that night, knowing she'd gotten what she wanted while Bruce hadn't. It was fair comeuppance for how he'd made her say his name and come apart so effortlessly and maddeningly, she reasoned, and it was probably rather time someone taught the playboy a lesson.
She hoped her message came across loud and clear - that a kiss and a smooth "I'm sorry" would not erase the fact that he still thought she was some sort of wayward kitten in need of training and reform, and most importanly, that she was in control.
She always was. He may as well get used to it now.