It had been a few days since Selina had come back to stay with Bruce and, aside from her occasional complaints, it was really nice to have someone besides Alfred in the house. Bruce knew she was antsy to get home to her flat in the slum, but with a broken arm and bruised ribs she was better off with him. She was staying in her old room, the guest room farthest from Bruce's bedroom.
Alfred had been livid when he heard Bruce announce Selina's pregnancy to the entire emergency room but he had waited until the girl was safely deposited onto a gurney and wheeled away before scolding Bruce. He spoke in a hush - as a butler for a wealthy family, he knew better than to publicly air dirty laundry - but he made it clear that in no circumstances was Selina allowed in Bruce's room or visa versa. He warned that they were not going to be left alone for any length of time and that he would be watching them closely. Bruce was also given a brief but harsh lecture about the proper etiquette of a gentleman, including an instruction about the importance of condoms and the horrors of sexually transmitted infections. Much to the boy's embarrassment he insisted on an STI check-up before leaving the hospital.
Bruce took it all in stride, though, knowing that this embarrassment would be worth it as long as Selina was okay. It had terrified him to see the normally fiery and vivacious girl lying limp in Alfred's arms. At first she had looked dead but then she fought when Alfred tried to put her in the car. She stopped when she saw Bruce and allowed herself to be tucked into the back seat. She rode half-asleep with her head on Bruce's thigh the whole way.
The few times she woke up she was apologizing to Bruce.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She said over and over. He forgave her every time. It wasn't really her fault after all.
After a day or so of being pampered by Alfred and an overly enthusiastic Bruce, Selina declared that she would not lie in bed any longer. She was still sore all over so she didn't make a huge fuss about not being allowed to go home yet, but she categorically refused to be waited on.
Instead she spent her days making Alfred nervous by exploring the house and creating increasingly bizarre concoctions out of whatever food she could find in the big kitchen. She would carefully taste each one, her nose crinkling, before offering it to Bruce. Bruce, feeling guilty for being the cause of her kidnapping and subsequent infirmity, tried each one without argument. He used this opportunity to work on his poker face.
Today she handed him a peanut butter, olive, and mustard sandwich with a big grin. He looked at it and sniffed dubiously.
"Wait!" She stopped him with the sandwich an inch from his open mouth. She pushed her can of root beer toward him. "You have to drink this with it."
He took a tentative bite and a long swig. "It's good." He exclaimed, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.
"You're such a terrible liar, Bruce Wayne." She said laughing. "It's horrible. Why do you keep letting me feed you this stuff?"
"Maybe it'll be good." He shrugged. "My parents always made me eat weird and exotic foods trying to make me more worldly. I guess it worked."
"You don't really like all that fancy food, do you? Frog legs, and goose liver pâté, and caviar?" She made a disgusted face.
"Some of it is pretty good. Some of it isn't. Some of it is so expensive that you just have to pretend to like it. It wouldn't do to turn your nose up at a foreign dignitary's favorite delicacy. Cultural offences can destroy business relationships." Bruce explained.
"But you were a little kid. Some rich guy was going to not do business with Wayne Enterprises because a little kid doesn't like slimy oysters? That stupid." She scoffed.
"Adults can be stupid." He shrugged again. "Actually, you might like oysters. Have you ever tried them?"
"Ugh! No!" She scrunched up her face.
"Okay! We're doing that." He face lit up. "We're going out to eat some 'fancy food' tonight."
"You're taking me out? Like a date?" Selina asked skeptically.
"Yup. You've been feeding me gross stuff for days. I think it's time for some payback." He said with an evil grin. "Wear something nice. There should be some dresses in the closet in your room."
"Ugh! Do I have to wear the heels, too? They hurt." She groaned.
"We'll make an exception, just this once." Bruce said still smiling.
Selina looked at a half dozen or so fluffy, sparkly, and shiny party dresses that had been tucked into her closet. Bruce must expect lots of dressy occasions if I need this much gaud. She thought sarcastically. She pictured the dozen suits that must be hidden in his closet.
She picked a fluffy silver and baby-pink tea-length dress with sheer cap sleeves and a black velvet choker. She didn't have a headband so she stole the black sash off one of the other dresses. Her clunky shoes looked very out of place with the fancy dress so she reluctantly chose the least uncomfortable looking shoes, a pair of black satin sling-back kitten heels with a peeptoe. Hopefully Bruce wouldn't want to do any dancing but at least she could walk without wobbling. She couldn't do anything about the cast encasing her left arm from wrist to elbow so she hoped all the sparkle and fluff would be enough to distract from the ugly gauze and plaster.
At some time Alfred had collected, laundered, and returned her dirty clothes. They had been left in a neat pile on the dresser. She found the polka-dotted lingerie she had worn home from the hospital tucked discreetly between jeans and a t-shirt. She put them on with the dress and headed downstairs for the dinner of a lifetime.