Title: Gotham Knights: Two Sides, Two Stories (Part 4 of 4)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Author's Note: Well, never thought you guys would hear from me again, huh? I know I haven't updated in QUITE A WHILE, but things have been up and down, sideways and around in circles. Things in my life have popped up, made it complicated, and I just had to deal with that before I could continue with anything else.
You'll notice a few changes in this edition of TSTS: barely any cursing, for one. Thought I'd clean up my story a bit, since it seems like everything else in the world involves some sort of cursing. In some instances, it'll be used in context, (like hell), but other than that… yeah, not so much. I could use better words. Secondly, this part may be one of the longest, because I have many miles to go before I conclude this story. And afterward, just so you know, the next story will be titled something else. Gotham Knights is the collection, and there are many stories in a collection… (yadda, yadda…) You get the picture.
I want to thank everyone for your rave reviews on this series, and I apologize for the wait. Although I'm not J.K. Rowling or anything, I could imagine the wait for this next part was just as agonizing. If you're like me, waiting for a story's end sucks. Anyway, enjoy!
Summary: In the shadows of the night, two creatures of the night are born, and their lives are forever intertwined.
Five. There were five, she was sure she counted five. But with a grunt, one keeled over head over feet, immediately unconscious, in front of her. A few moments later, a sucker punch from the darkness around them toppled another in front of Selina's eyes.
Could it… was it…? She didn't have the time to finish her thoughts. Bozo Number One, Bandit the ringleader, still needed her attention, and she was bound to give it. After all, that was what he wanted in the first place, right? Her undivided attention? Not in the way he wanted it, but hey, who was she to argue?
Bandit growled with a mix of… was that anger and fear? …and she laughed, unable to help herself. He doesn't know what the heck's going on… "Minx has got a bodyguard," he snarled, brandishing his knife in what was probably a fearsome way, but ended up looking almost comical. "Doesn't matter. You and your boyfriend are going to be breathing out of openings you never knew you had before."
But a deeper growl, gravelly and grave, shook his bravado. "Randall 'Bandit' Badara."
"W-w-w-who…"
"I've been looking for you, Badara. Grand theft auto, three accounts of murder, multiple counts of breaking and entering. Even racketing prostitutes over the Internet."
Selina's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Badara… the owner of Meltdown? Gotham's highest grossing Internet prostitution industry? You're the owner of that? And you're still stooping low enough to mug people?"
"SHUT UP!" He screamed, taking a swipe at her with his knife. "It's Darryl's gig! My own brother! I just shoot the film, do all the dirty work, and he's—"
"ENOUGH." Where in hell did he come from? Was the only thought she had before he was suddenly there, between the blade and her flesh, a massive wall of latex black rubber and bulletproof Kevlar; a slight gasp escaped her lips as the wall of black snapped up the flimsy material of Bandit's white undershirt, and hoisted him almost six inches off the ground. "Zsasz has been looking for you."
"That freak? NO! NO! Don't take me back there! Don't take me to Arkham again, please! They'll saddle me with that nutjob and I'll—" A fist, weighted with what was probably the weight of the world, met his mouth, and he said no more.
She stared, unable to tear her gaze away from the scene: here she was, Selina Kyle, standing behind Gotham's own urban legend, the man criminals had grown to fear within the past couple years, the being whose existence was growing legendary by every capture and good deed. The papers had done nothing to describe how massive he really was, from the toned muscles to the broad shoulders; even his neck seemed to bulge with sinewy, taut force through his cowl. This was no man; this was a creature, born of the night, and normally, this type would give her the shivers.
But besides the initial reaction, there was nothing but... calm? Peace? It was comforting enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and Batman seemed to notice it as well. He let Bandit fall with a hard thump. "Selina Kyle."
Normally, when a man addresses her by her real name and not a moniker, it made her nervous. But this felt different than all the rest. "Thank you, for saving my life."
"You didn't need me. You could have saved yourself."
"Then why'd you cut in on my dance partners? Jealous?" Idiot, she ridiculed herself. Great going, Kyle, you meet Batman and the first thing you can think of is to lay it on thick.
Luckily for her, he seemed unphased by her rather pitiful attempt at flirtation. "Leverage. Felt like ratting cages."
"So you save people because you feel like it? Isn't that a bit pompous?"
"I've been called many things. Pompous isn't one of them."
"I could've taken care of Bandit and his bandits myself."
"Yes."
"But you helped me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"…"
She half didn't expect an answer, and shrugged, unbiased. Fingers absently weaved figure-eights in her hair as if in afterthoughts, and her body spun in a quarter turn. "Fine. Don't answer me. I don't even know why--" But by the time she spun back, it was too late. Gone. Like shadow in the daylight, like he hadn't ever been there at all. "You have to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath, tugging at her hair in frustration. "Why can't I meet a white or dark knight that actually sticks around for awhile?"
Batman. That was Batman. Wow. Wow… He knew her name! He came to her rescue! He knew her name! Selina didn't know how he knew, or whether she wanted to laugh or cry about it, almost overcome with a "fan girl frenzy" that she hadn't felt sense her teeny-bopper days. Batman knew who she was! Her heart beat out a rapid staccato melody, and for a slight moment, she almost felt sick from dizziness. Batman… It took her a moment to compose herself, and then she remembered Bandit, slumped on the pavement, supported only by his girth against the unforgiving bark of a redwood tree in an abused plant bed. No use in wasting a perfectly good moment to further his "good" reputation with the cops… Her fingers danced out 9-1-1, and waited.
"You were WHAT!?" Normally, one's roommate and best friend would be a mixture of sick, horrified, and relieved when said one appears on his or her doorstep three hours later, and tells him or her of one's near robbery and death experience. In a normal world, this would prompt one's best friend to wrap his or her arms around the escapee's shoulders, sob uncontrollably at how he or she nearly lost the other, and makes the other promise not to put his or herself in that position again. Not Harley. Selina apparently had the only best friend in the world who, upon hearing of Selina's near robbery and death experience, promptly went giddy and quizzed her on the fact or fiction of modern psychology. "Were you scared? What were you feeling then? Were you experiencing a heightened sense of smell and taste, as it's been featured in the medical journals? Or is that a bunch of bull? I always thought it was nothing, but they say there is some truth to that. And these robber guys--- were they exhibiting signs of depression or child abuse when they wanted to shank you?"
Slack-jawed couldn't even begin to cover how incredulous she felt. "Harley, have you listened to ANYTHING I've said?"
"Yeah, but you haven't covered the important bits!" whined Harley, flopping down on their badly abused futon, in what would be a slipshod version of a living room. "This is a very important event that could crack the psyche of the criminal mind, and I wasn't there to witness it! You have to be my eyes and ears, 'Lina!"
She rolled her eyes, and dug a trench out of the cream plush carpet with her foot. "You're lucky I wasn't killed. Then there wouldn't be any rent coming in. I'm glad Batman was there to save me."
Instantly, Selina regretted her big mouth. As if she had said the word "candy", Harley pretty much pounced on her, eyes crazed and glassy, drool practically flinging from the cracks of her mouth. "BATMAN!?!?!? TELL ME. TELL ME NOW. I WANT TO KNOW IT ALL. EVERYTHING."
"He just… appeared. Out of nowhere, like he was made by the shadows. I was surrounded by these thugs, and suddenly, they go flying like ragdolls. Then, he was just… there, right in front of me."
"Did he speak to you?"
"Yeah. He told me I could've taken them on myself, but he wanted to rattle cages."
Harley's open mouth would've let bats fly out, if there were any. "It's a sign."
"Of what? Batman's vendetta against evil? Come on, Harley, be serious."
But there was no stopping her best friend from her ranting. "Selina, you need to follow up on this. Psyching Batman is a once in a lifetime opportunity! You have to meet him again!"
Selina scoffed, waving a hand in the air and swatting an imaginary fly. "Oh yeah, like I'm really going to put myself in a position to be shanked again. Great. Nice, Harl; what a great friend you are." Something about the way Harley was silent, and the fish-eyed ogle gave her the creeps though, and she blushed crimson. "Would you quit that? Stop starin' at me like I'm your psych patient."
Her friend, however, had other ideas. Bouncing out of her seat, she bebopped her way to the closet, seeking out something particular, something she knew had to be there since last Halloween… "HELLO!" she cried triumphantly, pulling out a vinyl black catsuit complete with a cat cowl, and matching green goggles from the very back of the closet. "PERFECT!"
"What're you doing… OH NO," moaned Selina, snatching it away as soon as she saw it. "Out of the question."
"Oh COME ON, Selina, you want to see him as much as I do. You can't go around looking like you want to get robbed, so it makes sense that you'd do the robbing! That's how you'll see him again."
"For your information, I gave up that life a long time ago. Pick-pocketing and lock-picking are amateur stuff compared with what I'd have to pull off in this thing! I promised Ted I wouldn't steal anymore. And another thing… have you completely lost your mind!?"
She shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm not the one with a thing for a bat, now am I? And I KNOW you do; you haven't stopped making goo-goo eyes since you came in the door! Come on, Selina… I need a passing grade on my entry essay to Arkham, and Batman would be perfect! Either that, or I'd be able to psych a true criminal."
"I thought you already made it into Arkham."
"So I lied a little… They're waiting for this paper, and if they read it and like it enough, they'll put me on full-time instead of the part-time position they offered me. Blow it, and they'll keep me on part-time, or if it's bad enough, they may retract my internship altogether. I NEED this, Selina. Please, it's due in three months… Don't make me beg."
Geez, no pressure, she thought, rolling her eyes and moaning. This was insane! Dress up in a catsuit and steal, just to get Batman's attention. Just like that. What was Harley thinking? Was the gain worth the trouble? She immediately squelched the thought, but it bubbled again and again in her subconscious, eating away at her bit by bit. What if it was worth it? If she went back to her roots and stole again, she'd be able to use any cash to pay off her bills, build up her bank account. If she stole again, Batman was sure to find her. But throwing away years of going straight, of being a normal person… such a waste! Ted would be furious. She'd be a criminal, and if Batman chased her, she'd be publicly known. If she was ever imprisoned, she'd never live a normal life again.
Something inside of her though… she didn't know what it was, but something in the back of her mind, in the recesses of her soul… something craved it. Wanted it. Needed it. She could feel it, the snarlings of a beast, something that had been chained for so long, not long enough to steal its hunger for freedom, but long enough to bitterly snap up the opportunity if it came around again. To put on a mask and a costume, to go prowling in the dark as she had before, to be free and be herself in a way no normal life could give her… that felt as if it was worth everything. And no one but Harley would have to know at first, if at all! If she was careful enough, sneaky enough, devious enough, she could keep this to herself; cover her tracks; retrace her steps and be…
"Catwoman," she replied faintly, her voice a waif on the wind. "My alter ego is named Catwoman."
SEVEN WEEKS LATER
The streets were unearthly quiet for this time of night. Twilight had barely begun for the great city of Gotham, and this little city district was a tomb. The overhead lights from the lampposts had long since shattered, leaving only one or two sparsely scattered across the streets; their hazy golden glow was not even enough to see your hands, they were so old. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. Perfect.
He'd come this night. Every other night, she'd prowled, leaping from roof to roof, waiting for her perfect moment, the perfect heist. It hadn't been as easy first, because she still believed herself to be Selina Kyle: mediocre, normal, absolutely dull and boring Selina Kyle. Not any more. The cat, it seemed, was more her style, and with it, she'd watched, waited, perfected her pick-pocketing, breaking and entering, her lock-picking. She was rusty. She had to get better before the grand finale. She did. And now, she was good. Really good.
Watching the little jewelry store from yonder perch, she whistled, taking a gander through her newly upgraded, nightvision goggles, the ones she first purchased over the Internet when she had enough money to make a decent dent in her bills. The greenish glow had taken a bit to get used to, but not by much. The magnification they also brought to the table, however, was another story. With these babies, she could see further than she could in the daytime, and they more than compensated for her normally poor eyesight too. If she cared to, she could see the washing woman, hanging clothes on a clothesline between her apartment building and the next, three blocks away as if this same woman was a few feet away. These things were POWERFUL. After a few moments of disorientation and adjustment, she could now smoothly change between normal vision and microscopic, all with a push of a button close to her temple.
The catsuit was upgraded as well, as best as it could've been. She'd added elbow-length gloves, fitted with retractable claws for her cat-loving pleasure. She pilfered a few jewels and a few days later, returned them for the million dollar reward money to earn herself a nylon-Kevlar polymer weave catsuit, impervious to bullets and ultra snug around the waist. It protected and accented her figure perfectly. Her boots were a hybrid of Kevlar additions and army-esque style, giving her the traction and protection she needed without the dead weight of steel toes. A whip, she discovered, was the perfect way to get away, trip up, or do just about anything to anyone or anything. It had taken her some practice with various methods and thicknesses of whips, but sooner than later, she'd become almost a pro at it. She'd even added her own stylish utility belt, just for kicks and, as it turned out, tricks.
Despite the Selina in her knowing all this was wrong, the Catwoman inside of her didn't seem to care. She wanted toys, and toys she received.
It had become easier and easier over time, to push back the ego and uproot the id. At first, she felt incredibly guilty the first time, when she robbed a gas station on 9th Street. But little by little, especially since she'd begun to not just steal but prowl around, jumping from roof to roof, it became easier to quell her conscience. A part of her had longed for adventure, excitement, something so much more fascinating and interesting than the life she led before. She wasn't a nobody, and the world kept treating her like one. When she went backwards, back to impulse, desire… she realized how much she missed it in her organized, hectic, and orderly life. With Selina Kyle, ordinary woman, life was complicated. It was overbearing. It was suffocating. This life… it was so much easier. Simpler. More fun. Instead of deadlocked into a life she hated, she locked herself into a life she loved. And she was bound and determined not to go back.
The lights had gone out two hours ago in the jewelry store. Time to party.
She stretched her arms upward and cracked both her shoulders, bounced on the balls of her feet and grinned, gearing up for what she amicably called the "Thrill". The Thrill was the plunge, headlong into the abyss, without a second thought of safety or sanity. With the wind whipping against her face like she was a candle needing to be blown out… It was exhilaration and excitement all rolled into one. It was freedom.
She jumped.
At the last possible second, she righted herself, and gently bounced of an awning into a forward flip, where she eventually landed with a soft thump right in the middle of the street. A few strides was all it took for her to stealthily come to her destination.
Tripping the alarm had been the easy part. At South and Main, the biggest jewelry shop alive was beckoning to be stolen from; to be honest, she just did it a favor: she complied. But surprisingly, the name of the game wasn't just jewel thief. In fact, there was only one more thing in it besides the cash in the cash register that made her shatter a jagged hole in the storefront window with just her combat boot.
Tall, dark and handsome. If only he'd show up.
Her claws picking through the glass, she slid through the hole easily, the circumference of it just big enough for her form, and she hopped off the display shelf, her feet landing light as a feather. The object in question was the antique cash register situated on the far wall, the one she knew the employees dumped every cent from the electronic ones into. She'd spent enough time watching them, marking their movements and compromising her location more than once, so she knew just how to disarm and unlock the safe.
When would he get here?
Approaching the machine, she used her newly sharpened claws to undo the screws in an almost invisible panel below it, and threw the plate to the side, gazing in at the countless numbers of wires and gizmos inside the tiny space. It was an electro pulse generator, able to not only deliver an almost lethal shock to anyone who even touched the register, but also to immediately trip an alarm, alerting the police of any accomplices as well. From what she understood from electronics, which was extensive thanks to a little place called the library and a few crank calls to the FBI, she immediately identified which wires were good, which were bad, and which would trip the cops. Taking a tiny pair of wire clippers from a pocket in a decorative utility belt around her slender waist, she first clipped the blue wire, the one to alarm the cops, and set to work, snapping the green, red and yellow wires in sequence.
Satisfied she'd done her job, she tossed the utensil lightly at the machine's keys, pleased that when she did so, they didn't charge with an electric shock, and slid her claws right between the cracks and creases of the cash drawer, careful not to chip her stainless steel nails in her gloves of their black paint. Then, with a mighty push forward, the thing sprung free, the lever maneuver providing enough force to break the lock. A quick grab of the twenties and tens, stuffing them in a satin bag around her wrist, and she was free, somersaulting over the display shelf once again and shimmying back through the hole she'd created. No problem.
And then, she turned around, and ran smack dab into hard, black clad abs, and strong hands gripped her shoulders gently but forcefully. "And just where do you think you're going?"
She glanced up at him through her green goggled eyes and cat cowl, her eyes widened with surprise and delight, and she couldn't help but purr back at him. "I was thinking about grabbing a cocktail and settling up some old debts. You want to come with? I could use a strong, handsome man for company."
"Who are you?"
"I'm surprised you don't know. I thought the ears and the occupation completely gave me away." A sharp knee to the groin made him stumble back and groan, the grip on her completely free, and she sprang towards an alleyway and up an escape ladder, reaching the roof before either of them knew it.
Against the moonlight, her eyes gazed downwards at him and she blew him a kiss, smart and sassy in a way she never was before. "I'm Catwoman, at your service. Now are we done here, or do you want to play some more?"
He looked like he was scowling… but could she really be sure? That mask of his obscured her view significantly. Or was that a smile, perhaps? It was hard to tell. "This isn't a game."
"So says you. For me, it's a masquerade. We both certainly look the part." She stretched a bit, knowing full well what areas stuck out and others didn't, before letting it all contort back into its original shape with a slight moan. "I'm one for masks and theatrics as much as the next criminal."
She was almost disappointed when he insisted on "business as usual"… until—What?. "I'm here to catch criminals, not chase them, Catwoman. If you run, eventually, I will catch you. Give yourself up. Now. Or, I'll have to come up there."
That had promise. "Come down? Why? What's the point of being the bad girl if I have to behave like the good girl? Don't you know a woman like me's worth all the trouble of catching?" She blew another kiss. "Kitty wants to play. Mrrow."
How did he move so fast?! A blur, that was all he was, one dark, enigmatic blur and suddenly, he was behind her, and she could feel his gloved hands on her shoulders, gripping her tightly, but gently. Was his hands even gloved? The heat between them proved otherwise—she could feel him around her, as if they were skin to skin, his presence radiating thermals of heat through her catsuit. Letting the pack drop, she stammered, "Y-y-you're fast", and swore she was going to faint.
Batman's voice was a cross between a growl and a whisper. "You're under arrest."
"By whose authority?"
"Mine," he replied.
"I've got shivers," she answered, and headbutted him, cursing at the headache she knew she was going to have. He was fast, but she seemed to be faster, and as he reeled, she kneed him again, whipped his arm backward, and began to work. Her nimble fingers danced, the leather whip at her side racing until it served as a pair of makeshift handcuffs and a restraint harness. He resisted, but a swift punch to his temple was enough to disable him a little, catching him off guard and reeling. When he had been thoroughly pinned down, arms behind his back and his senses returned, she cat-crawled across his frame, rested herself upon his chest, and drew squiggle lines across his abdominal muscles. "You should know a thing or two about cats, Batman: we don't like to be restrained. Caged, like animals. Every cat needs to be free to roam around."
"And being free to roam around covers stealing?"
"Well, a girl's got to do something to keep the milk bowl full. Trust me, the money's going to a good cause."
"You're a cat burglar. A thief."
"And you're a man who goes around the city dressed up like a giant rodent with wings. I wouldn't be judging me if I were you."
"You like this with all heroes, or just me?"
She grinned. "Just you, honey." Nailed fingers traced the curvatures of his jawline through his costume, softly stroking from his lips to his temple. "It's been fun, but I need a nap. Come play with me again sometime." Licking her lips, she nuzzled noses with him before she sucked the air from him, leaving him a smoldering kiss to remember her by. "Bye, bye, Batsy. Don't wait up for me."
And just like that, she was gone, a rosy blush creeping from ear to ear.
Batman, Bruce, for the longest time, watched her go, staring almost endlessly at her trail for a bit, after it had grown cold. She wasn't coming back… whoever she was. That kiss… her attitude, voice, characteristics… she was something else. He didn't know whether to be stoic or excited about this new woman, this new prospect in his nightlife. Was she friend or foe? Either, or? Both? Which was it? At the moment, it seemed to be foe, but could he really tell at this early in the game? She could've killed him, but she didn't; she just tied him up. Another villain, like one of Falcone's men, would've jumped at the chance to off him. Time would tell which side she wanted to be on, he supposed, and smiled grimly. Good or bad, either way, she had just stolen quite a bit of cash.
He wrestled a bit with the ropes, trying to reenact that escapology he had learned from Zatara, but the knots were too tight. "So much for that," he muttered to himself, before slipping the serrated blade from his right glove, knowingly in reach the entire time, and began sawing off the rope whip.
"It was AMAZING," gushed Selina, throwing the bills in the air and shrieking. "I can't believe I finally found him!"
Harley giggled, twirling in circles underneath the storm of cash. "And I can't believe we have enough money to last three years in this place! I thought we'd never get here!"
"Forget here—let's move to someplace better! We can do it!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
"WHEEEEEEEEEE!"
She felt like losing her mind. This was amazing, this person inside of her! Independent, smart, sexy, savvy… even a little crazy. This was her. This was this girl she had wanted to be! This was the girl she knew she could be! Though she knew she was breaking the law, and breaking her promise to Ted—considering her options, the rewards outweighed the punishment. That, or she was just simply to excited to care. The thrill of doing this every night for the past three-to-seven weeks had slowly skewed her judgment. The line between good and evil was already blurred from the evil she saw every day. Why worry about it now? A new job, new cash, new everything… she was on top of her game! It was worth it to get this far!
And… Batman. Finally, BATMAN. It was her, and him, with nothing in between. FINALLY. The last time she had felt this alive with someone was with Bruce…
Bruce Wayne. That was enough to kill her bubble. In the seven weeks she'd started on this road, he'd neglected to call her.
Harley snapped her fingers. "So what do you think, Selina? Is this job a keeper?"
She smiled wide, thinking of her encounter with the Dark Knight. "Yeah," she murmured, licking his taste off her lips. "Yeah, I think this one's a keeper."
