Title: Never Did Run Smooth
Summary: As Shakespeare wrote, the course of true love never did run smooth, and even though Batman and Catwoman fight crime in Gotham, their tale is no different.
Disclaimer: DC owns all characters.
"You know I can't stay." Bruce argued, stepping into the hallway leading to her apartment. Dinner had been nice and he didn't want to end their night with a fight.
Selina stopped and gave him a slow smile, "It's all been taken care of, Bruce. You are not going out tonight."
He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, "Taken care of?"
Selina unlocked the door to her place and made the gallant motion with her hand to invite him inside.
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, c'mon," she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, "Why do you always have to make everything so difficult?" she mumbled.
"Selina," he said, in that condescending voice she detested, "I cannot stay the night."
"I told you it's taken care of. You want something to drink?"
He followed her into the kitchen and watched her go from cupboard to cupboard.
She realized he was watching her and stopped to look at him, "Take off your coat. Relax. You're not going anywhere."
"You cannot keep me from going out," he challenged, looking out the window where his city called to him.
"Oh, don't worry, you'll want to stay," she teased, her voice low and alluring. She had not finished preparing her drink when she walked out of the kitchen and headed to the bedroom.
Bruce followed. He knew if he simply left, he would have an extremely difficult time being allowed back in. So he followed her around her apartment, only the slightest bit curious as to what she had planned.
Selina had disappeared into her bathroom, but left the door ajar, "Robin and Nightwing will be watching her for you tonight," she yelled from inside the bathroom. Then, in a barely audible voice, added, "Ted owes me a favor, too."
Bruce was about to grunt in reply when she walked out and the sound died in his throat.
She grinned, "Tonight, you're mine."
He swallowed.
She was wearing her old purple costume. The purple costume that drove him crazy with desire for so many years. The purple costume that hugged every curve and accentuated her…assets perfectly. He swallowed again.
"I got to thinking," she said, leaning against the wall. He felt himself getting hard even as he tried desperately to recall all the many techniques he'd learned over the years to slow his breathing and calm his body and this ever increasing arousal that was taking over. She walked towards him so very slowly, her hips swaying from side to side with the enticing grace he found himself unable to resist. She stopped only a breath away, "You've never had this pussy before."
She was right. All those years ago, he had never given into his lust for her.
She pressed her breasts against his chest and smiled; his excitement all too evident against her thigh. Her nail was trailing circles on his chest where the bat symbol would have been. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. How had he managed to resist her all those times before? Cold showers had never worked when it came to Catwoman and he always had to ease the painful built up with the aid of his hand.
But things were different now.
He opened his eyes to look into hers. Those startling green eyes that always mirrored the want and need he felt, were seducing him all over again. That's one thing he liked about the new suit, her goggles. The goggles protected him from her and he was able to resist her more easily. But there were no goggles now, only those green gems he loved. He placed one hand on her lower back and let it slide down. The other cupped her right breast…those glorious breasts he'd always wanted to touch and kiss and suck. Now they were his. She was his and how could he not want to stay.
"Everything's taken care of?" he asked, kissing her neck as his last sense of control dwindled fast.
"Mm-hmm," Selina moaned. Her breath hitched in her throat as his thumb teased her nipple and she heard the growl-like sound he emitted as they fell on her bed.
She gave him that knowing smile. The one that said, I knew you couldn't resist.
No, you couldn't resist. You've rarely been able to and dammit, Alfred caught you lost in thought and staring blindly into the computer again because he asks you, "Are you quite alright, sir?" for the seventh time today.
You reply with the usual grunt and continue pretending to work. You're going over old files, typing in new information. Updating them is of no urgency, but it's too early for patrol and you have to keep busy or your mind begins to wander. You've never had that problem before, but you've also never messed things up so badly with her before.
When you hear Alfred start walking upstairs, you stop typing and stare into empty space again. You should be used to it by now, but this time, you're having much more trouble adjusting. It's never easy losing someone, but when they've left you and they've been taken to their final resting place, you know there's nothing more you can do despite how much you want to. But having to lose someone that's still here, still very much alive, well, that's a different sort of pain. A sharp, persistent pain.
Making matters worse, you can't tell anyone. Not because they wouldn't listen, but because you've spent the greater part of your life behaving as though you need no one, as though you can handle everything on your own. So, you continue with your stoic expression and reveal nothing. They all assume you won't allow things to get you down, but they're wrong. Sometimes it's not your choice. You simply can't let them know about it. You simply cannot allow yourself to show any weakness.
The worst part of all isn't pretending things haven't changed. No, the worst part is knowing that they absolutely have. Unlike the previous times when you kept yourself guarded, in check, never giving yourself away completely, this time…this time you actually allowed yourself to contemplate the future and looked forward to it. You imagined all the different possibilities that presented themselves before you because she was in your life. Everything she had already given you and anything — anyone — else she could bring into it. You let yourself make plans and now you can't carry them out.
Now, you're left alone…again. Alone with dreams you never should have had. Alone with self-manufactured ghosts that haunt you day and night.
This time you do hear Alfred approach and you start working again. He's brought you dinner, though he knows you won't eat any of it. His tenacity is impressive and you appreciate that he has never given up on you, but like usual, you don't tell him that. You don't say anything. If you could say what you wanted when you wanted, well, you wouldn't be in this situation right now.
You must have slipped again and Alfred caught that vacant look in your eye because he asks, "Is it safe to assume you will be staying in tonight, sir?" And you try to ignore the painful twinge you feel because his words are full of hope.
Then, you realize the time. Two hours have passed unnoticed and you're angry for letting yourself become consumed with her again. Even now, you can't help picture her laughing at you for the effect she knows she has on you. The sound of her laughter, different when she's laughing with you than when she's laughing at you, is never cruel, but you could recognize the difference anywhere. It's a wonderful sound and if you close your eyes you can almost hear the lovely melody again…
"Master Bruce?" Alfred's concerned monotone brings you back to the present.
"No, Alfred. I won't be staying in," you reply, mentally adding, there's no reason to.
The sun has set and you desperately want to be out there; alone in a crowded city, longing for something that can no longer be, and taking out your frustration on the criminals that made the mistake of going out tonight. You suit up and head out, your city is waiting.