Chapter 21

The next few days were a grind as Selina and Bruce worked together on deciphering the bank codes on the money transfers. In addition to struggling with complicated number puzzles, the details were released that Bruce Wayne was to be laid to rest in a private ceremony at Wayne Manor.

Selina had done her best to keep her distance from Bruce on the day of the funeral, as he paced around the confines of the penthouse. She had traveled the area extensively herself trying to find solitude away from his endless movement. She finally took refuge in the kitchen, happy that there was only one stool now so she was guaranteed not to have the pleasure of his company. He dropped on a chair at the kitchen table instead. She narrowly controlled the eye roll that wanted to manifest itself and instead gave into defeat and laid down the papers. She stretched her arms and swiveled her waist to limber her spine. She was dressed comfortably in her black yoga pants and her stolen Gotham Rogues sweat shirt. She thought vaguely of doing some yoga to relax but the thought of him allowing her any peace to do that was laughable. She found her eyes drawn again to the wall in the hall. Something was bothering her about that wall. She had got up the night before to get a drink of water and she noticed it then. Now today, as Wayne ran her from room to room she kept twirling it over in her head.

As you walked the penthouse there seemed to be part of the floor plan that was just...missing. That wall shouldn't be there. She walked into the hall looking closer at the construction. She glanced back at Wayne and was relieved that he had finally quieted down and was watching noon news. Probably looking for footage of his funeral to torture himself with... She returned to her mystery, knocking gently on the sheet rock, her head tilting first one way then the next trying to catch the echo. She did this several times and found them all the same. Solid. Why would someone build an entire interior wall solid? Correction, why would Batman want a solid interior wall? Answer—because he had batstuff he wanted to hide.

She glanced again over her shoulder ensuring that Bruce was still glued to the television. She stepped back and let her eyes relax; they drifted down to the bookcase. Spring latch? Nah, too easy. What would give the Bat a feeling of security? Security like the pen light projectors outside... She searched the wall facing her objective. High on the right side, just perceivable on the wall she saw the fiber-optic emitter. She still had to find the trigger, but just knowing there was something hiding had been the real trick. Her lips curled in victory.

Light clapping from behind her made her have to cover a wince and an eye roll as she turned to face him.

Bruce had known she suspected something as he had noticed her looking at the area several times throughout the day. When she ventured down the hall he knew it was all over. He nearly laughed aloud, she was truly a master at her craft. Her instincts and ability were an amazing combination. When he watched her move down the hall he was struck by the grace and balance she possessed. No wonder they were calling her Catwoman. Well that and her goggles do look like little ears when she has them flipped up on her head. Man, she had been pissed at me when I told her that. He nearly chuckled again at the memory. He had continued to needle her and suggest that she be grateful they went with the name Catwoman instead of just her vocation of Catburglar.

Selina had calmed down about it later when the interview with Gordon was televised and she heard that it was Meghan that had given her the name. Gordon further glorified Catwoman as not only the person that rescued Meghan, but was also responsible for working with the Batman to bring down Bane and save Gotham. He also made it a point to let Gotham know that the person responsible for these selfless acts was currently being hunted by the military. He stated in what Selina took as a message directed to her specifically, that the soldiers were operating on orders to shoot her on sight.

Gordon's statement had an immediate media backlash that whipped the city into a frenzy of demonstrations against the military occupation. That night citizens in Gotham violated curfews and ran the streets in protest. Bruce had been mystified at Selina's reaction to the events as she thought the entire thing was hilarious. She had in fact been reduced to hysterical laugher when they announced that several women were apprehended in Gotham wearing black leather outfits and cat ears.

Now here Bruce was with the original Catwoman burglarizing his residence...again. She shot him a snaky look as she went to pass him in the hall. "You want to see it?" He offered bluntly.

She paused beside him and pressed up against his side. "Honey, if I want to see it I will show it to myself." Then she was gone, soundless in her bare feet.

Bruce ground his jaw and nodded his head. "Have it your way."

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They had avoided one another for the rest of the day and Bruce finally went to bed. When she went to brush her teeth she noticed a pill bottle out on the counter and realized his head was probably hurting him. She retreated out of the room and left him in peace. As she was padding quietly down the hall she got a funny feeling. She searched it out for a few moments and then a bright smile bloomed across her face. She glanced at the hall and smirked. He was setting her up, he wanted her to go for it.

Well two can play that game Wayne. You are soo out matched it isn't even funny. She flipped the damper open on the fireplace and turned the gas starter on, a few seconds later a bright flame enveloped the dry firewood and soft crackling filled the large main room. She pulled off the baggy sweat shirt and flexed her bare arms adjusting the sports bra she wore underneath. The yoga pants sat low on her slim hips as she smiled into the flame. She hoped he wouldn't take too long to make his appearance; the more time he allotted her correlated directly to his level of confidence in her ability to crack into that room. She hoped she wouldn't be insulted.

She dropped into sun salutation routine and tried to concentrate on her form. Three courses through and no Bruce. Bastard had no faith in me, or too much faith in his security. She leaned into warrior one pose and breathed through her irritation. She dropped down into a plank and held her form still and true. She inverted her hands and lifted both of her legs off the floor into an arm stand peacock pose. She felt her ribs straining under the demand as her core worked to support her body. She battled through it and pulled her knees to her chest in crane pose, still supporting her body with only her arms.

Maybe she had read him wrong; he might really have been feeling like crap, it would explain some of his restlessness. Selina positioned her forearms against the floor and flexed her legs over her head into an inversion stand. This was a cop out on what she normally did but she could feel the weakness in her abdominals and didn't think it wise to push further. She focused on her breathing as her weight balanced on her forearms and her head hung lax with her nose pointing to the floor. She felt the stress and strain draining out of her body.

She heard the smallest of creaks on the wood floor. She continued to maintain the pose as she controlled her mind and body and lowered her legs to the ground in front of her in the most advanced pose she was willing to attempt. When you had an audience you had to grab the gusto. One legged inverted staff. One foot remained pointed as her other leg bent until her foot touched the ground in front of her eyes, her back bent in an impressive curl. She held it for a less than impressive time and then kicked quickly out of the pose before the cramps lit into her muscles. She stood and faced the door where Bruce stood watching her. "Feeling better?" She asked flatly.

Bruce ground his jaw again. "Feeling something, not sure if better is the right word to describe it."

"If you don't mind I would like some privacy." She raised her eyebrows when he made no move to leave.

"This is a living room, not a workout room. You can't demand privacy in a common room." Bruce defended his unwillingness to accept exile.

"Well then you need to talk to your realtor and make sure your next invisible penthouse has a gym."

He pushed off the wall and walked past her with an appreciative glance at her body. "Why would I do that when I already have an invisible penthouse with a gym? I tried to show it to you earlier." He scolded her. "Now do you want to see the vault or don't you?"

Selina looked amused at his annoyance. "I chose don't. If you want to go in there and play around with your Bat toys than be my guest, but you don't need me for all that nonsense." Bruce narrowed his eyes at her. "Bruce for whatever reason you wanted to keep that separate from me. I'm good with that. There are things about me that I will expect the same consideration for." She turned and left the room without letting him respond. She flipped on the shower and smiled as his voice sounded behind her.

"Like what things?" He questioned.

Cat – 1; Bat – 0, She thought to herself.

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He had persisted the next morning in showing her the "vault" as he called it. It contained his Batsuits and gear along with an extensive weight training room and additional personal items, to include a bag of cash the likes of which Selina had never seen. Truthfully she had almost gone weak in the knees when he opened the duffel bag and showed her.mMaybe that was why he hadn't trusted me in there...

Their break came a few hours later when Bruce translated a repeating thread that revealed a banking ID number. "Bingo." He looked up at her and smiled. Selina leapt up and circled around behind him looking eagerly at the screen of the computer.

"Monegasque Bank of Monaco," she read the name off the screen.

He corrected her pronunciation in fluent French and received a smack to the back of his head for his trouble. He couldn't help but grin at her. "All of the transactions started with the same bank code. This is an international bank, the money was filtered into off shore accounts in France."

"Nice work, Wayne. So we finish breaking down the individual line codes and we have each specific person involved?"

"Not that easy I'm afraid, Selina. The accounts don't translate that way. The numbers don't tie to an individual. They are just a number, a shield against prying eyes. The bank doesn't even know who the accounts belong to."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Then why are you so excited Bruce?"

He sat back in the chair and leaned back against her. "The bank doesn't know who the customers are because they choose not to learn. We drop a worm into the computer system and have it target these accounts and it will feed us all the information we need to trace the account holders. All eight of them."

Selina raised her brows at him, "How are we going to pull that trick off Bruce? These banks have firewalls and security measures that make hacking them nearly impossible."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "That they do Ms. Kyle." He took her hand off his shoulder and kissed her palm gently." If only I knew someone that had a way of getting into places that shouldn't be gotten into..." He took her other hand and repeated the kiss in that hand. "And if this person also made a habit of doing things that other people say can't be done..."

"Mr. Wayne, are you implying that you would be supportive of my breaking into an international bank…."

Bruce pursed his lips as he clasped her hands between his and pressed them gently together as he considered her words. "Well, Ms. Kyle, you wouldn't really be stealing. It's really more like recovering. It's my money anyway…and as for the information on their clients...well they forfeited the rights for me to care about that the second they laundered money from Bane's little organization."

Selina smiled. Good for him. "You gonna break into your giant pile of cash for first class tickets to France?"

A voice came from the doorway. "Ms. Kyle, when you own your own jet, you always fly first class." Bruce and Selina both startled as Lucius Fox stepped into the room. She tried to move away, but Bruce kept his left hand clasped securely to hers. Fox sat a paper bag and his briefcase down on the kitchen counter. "The real question is who is going to encrypt the spyware to trace the accounts?"

Bruce swallowed hard and stood slowly from the table his left hand still holding hers. "I used to have a guy that took care of those details for me."

Fox inclined his head at Bruce. "That's a coincidence; I used to work for a man that required my ability in similar instances, unfortunately I buried him yesterday." He took a moment to look at Bruce, well rested and healthy as a horse it would seem. He truthfully looked like a different man, but Fox couldn't pin it down. Maybe it was the shadow of hair on his unshaved chin, or the casual attire of jeans and a black button down.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Well, I heard he survived eight years in cryo sleep, I doubt a couple of hours in a coffin will slow him down."

Lucius nodded. "I suspect not Mr. Wayne."

Selina watched the two men closely. Bruce extended his hand and Fox took it in his. She tried again to step aside and let them have their moment, but was stopped this time by Lucius as he released Bruce's hand and took hers. "Mr. Wayne is looking better than expected today, but Ms. Kyle, you are truly are a sight for sore eyes." Selina smiled broadly as Fox embraced her warmly and kissed her cheek. The amusement sparkling in her eyes as she glanced over at Bruce. He snorted a soft laugh and shook his head and smiled in spite of himself.

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Fox and Bruce spent several long hours discussing Wayne Enterprises and the current state of Gotham. Much of the same information that had been put forth in the newscasts was now substantiated from Fox's inside perspective. They went back and forth on the Wayne holding accounts and discussed the possibilities of a stock buyout as a contingency plan for the company. She quickly lost interest in their board meeting and turned her mind to more engaging pursuits. She pulled a large sketch pad from her black bag along with a small charcoal pencil. Armed with that and Wayne's laptop she retreated to the floor by the window. Leaning a shoulder against the glass she started researching her target in Monaco. As the screen loaded she looked out the window over the city and her ears perked as the conversation turned and she was listening to Fox's voice as he described how Gordon was able to throw the US Military out of Gotham. She smiled broadly; good for him.

She thought of Meghan and was happy she had a man like Gordon watching out for her, content that she wouldn't be left to struggle alone like Selina had been forced to. Selina glanced over at Bruce and wasn't surprised to find him looking at her as well. She swallowed and gave him a faint smile. The nearly imperceptible nod as he acknowledged her almost crushed her heart.

Where have you been all my life Mr. Wayne?

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She noticed Fox's shiny Oxfords as they moved into her peripheral line of sight. "Pardon me Ms. Kyle." She looked up blinking as she pulled herself out of her deep thought and saw Fox standing above her. She glanced outside and saw that the sun had moved its way through most of the sky. "Did you want a cup of coffee?" Fox offered graciously.

Selina rubbed her face and cleared her mind. "Ugh no. No thanks. I don't drink it."

Fox knelt beside her intrigued by her sketch of the interior of the bank. "Tea then, perhaps?" He gestured to the book by her knee. "May I?"

Selina nodded and quirked a small smile. "Bruce doesn't seem like a tea kind of guy."

Fox held the book in his hands, careful not to smudge the image. "He isn't, but you never know when the occasion will arise and you might need some on hand."

Selina smiled brightly at the gentlemen beside her. "Nothing wrong with being prepared for any circumstance." She used his words on him with the deeper meaning they both understood.

"Indeed. It has paid off in the past." He looked up at her for permission before turning the page.

She nodded again that he could continue. "I need to stretch my legs I think. Let me bring you something Mr. Fox?"

He glanced up at her, "Well since Mr. Wayne is making the coffee I believe I will have tea as well. Earl Grey please, hot." Selina laughed heartily at that as she walked into the kitchen. Lucius took a spot beside the window leaning his tweed sports coat against the cool pane of glass as he turned the page. He hooked a finger into his bow tie and pulled the knot loose. He unbuttoned his shirt a button as well as he settled in with her sketches.

Bruce stood watching their interaction with a mix of pride and happiness that he couldn't quite place. He watched Selina smile at Fox and he blew out a breath—just amazing. Sitting there in her jeans and a hunter green turtle neck; she was the essence of simple elegance. Bruce dumped water into the coffee maker and tried not to stare as she walked over to him. He accepted failure as his eyes slid up from her legs to her face as she approached. The denim did more to cover her than the leather, but he had a good imagination and a fantastic memory.

"Jealous?" Selina purred the question as she slid past him patting him gently on his rear as she went. Bruce shook his head and laughed. "Yes, I am." He teased her back.

Fox looked up at the unfamiliar sound of his laugh, lowering his glasses as he watched his old friend. He probably could have counted the times he had seen Bruce smile in the years he had known him. Rarer yet was a laugh. But for her he offered it effortlessly, and more importantly—genuinely. The smile reached his eyes, and it seemed to lighten his entire being.

Fox chuckled to himself. My, my…Mr. Wayne...I think she may have stolen more than your jewelry this time. He shook his head and flipped the page, hesitating as he looked at the charcoal lines of the next drawing. He stared for a long moment as he looked at himself and Bruce sitting at the table. He wiped at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The look on both of their faces was the most honest unguarded thing he had ever seen. The bottom of the page had one word beautifully lettered across the page: Respect. Fox turned the next page with an unsteady hand. It was another of him and Bruce. Their right hands clasped in a handshake, the other griping each other's shoulders in greeting. She had captioned this one Friends.

Fox looked again at the woman in the kitchen, she was truly something special. He was grateful that Wayne hadn't taken so many knocks to the head that he wasn't able to recognize that fact. She had jumped up and was sitting on the counter fiddling with a packet of tea as the kettle steamed beside her. As she and Bruce conversed, she crossed her leg over the other and kicked them in relaxed ease. Bruce laughed again at some unheard comment and Fox wondered if she knew what she had done, the magnitude of the change he saw in Bruce already was astounding. Alfred would be beside himself at the sight of this.

Alfred. His stomach clenched at the thought of the pain his old friend was going through. He was already on a flight to Florence. Fox had driven him to the airport himself after the funeral. Hell, he had bought him the damn ticket and insisted that he take it. He had wanted to help him get free of Gotham; escape the memories that haunted him here. He knew Florence was Alfred's sanctuary.

When Bruce was missing Alfred had spent most of his time there in a small little house in the village. Humble living for a man that had inherited the Wayne fortune. But, Alfred had always known that Bruce would be back. Not this time though. Alfred had held on to no such hope for Bruce this time. Alfred told Lucius that Bruce had no interest in living since Rachel's death and he believed the Batman was the vehicle Bruce used to end his pain. His noble sacrifice in saving Gotham was nothing more than a convenient veil thrown over an assisted suicide. Bruce had no reason to live and the Batman had every reason to die.

Alfred had resigned himself to Bruce's death and his own guilt ate away at him for having failed to prevent it. Lucius couldn't bring himself to share his own opinion on that subject with Alfred. Alfred had not seen Bruce when he came back from the pit. He had come back a different man, focused and in control of himself. One of the things Bruce had said to him as they were working on the Bat was that the greatest suffering was brought to him because of the hope that Bane allowed to exist. Fox took that to heart when he was dealing with Alfred. He refused to share his hope with Alfred; the hope, the belief, that Bruce hadn't died that day. He didn't want to see the crushing effect on his friend if in fact, Bruce was truly gone. Alfred had been through so much already, losing Bruce again would be too cruel.

So, Fox had contented himself in wishing Alfred a safe trip as he handed the English gentleman keys and an address in Italy. The address belonged to a newly purchased villa with a view overlooking the bridges at Ponte Vecchio. Financially, Wayne Enterprises was on the ropes, but Fox had a personal checkbook and knew how to use it. He had used it extensively as of late in fact. The property purchase and quick rejuvenation hadn't been cheap, but it was well worth the expense. Truthfully, Alfred deserved that and more. Mostly Fox just wanted to give him a reprieve from the emotions of the months prior, and he was happy knowing Alfred would have it in the most luxurious residence in Florence.

Besides, it was nice knowing where he could get a hold of Alfred if need be. Because Fox was a man that believed in being prepared, he was very prepared for Bruce to be alive. He knew Bruce hadn't taken the easy way out, especially after seeing him with the new woman in his life battling Bane's men. The way Bruce had looked at her told Fox everything he needed to know about how Bruce felt. Then seeing the young woman staring across the bay after the explosion, she had it just as bad for him too. No. No one could have convinced him that Bruce didn't have something worth living for, if that was the truth before, it wasn't the truth any longer.

Bruce walked over to Fox and knelt beside him holding out the antique cup filled with steaming tea. "We have chairs you know."

Fox smiled. "I know. I bought them."

Bruce saluted that fact with a lift of his own coffee cup. He took a sip and then looked more seriously at Fox, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You got something on your mind Lucius?"

Fox sipped his tea and nodded. "It occurred to me, Mr. Wayne, that Florence is only a six hour drive from Monaco."

Bruce's lips twisted into a smile. "Actually Lucius, it's only five."

Fox grinned, "If Ms. Kyle drives you might make it in four and a half."

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Edits by Cheed