Esmeralda

*Diana's POV:

It seemed as if I was growing more and more adapt to this body I carried as time went on. It had been around 29 hours, yes, I was actually keeping track. I had my full determination on finding this "psychic" that the real Selina spoke of, and forcing her to assist me in getting back what rightfully belonged to me.

I knew this would be a gradual process. Especially since I was locating an actual psychic, and not some amateur con artist, like the other 90-95 percent of 'psychics' out there. That was not the case this time, and I was far past my theory that this was all just some wild dream, since I was not only undergoing on again off again piercing headaches but I'd thrown up three times and used the public bathroom, still having mini heart attacks every time I'd look into the mirror and see that the woman I was seeing was not me. No, this was as real as real got.

The major issue amongst other issues was that no one would believe what I had to tell them. Not even Bruce who had been through the most anomalous of shit wouldn't surmise my unfortunate transcendence. Who would?

For now my only hope was that psychic that I had to seek-out. Selina hadn't given me the name of this mysterious woman, only suggesting that she was "some gal" she knew. Dammit, this was going to be tedious.

It then occurred to me that I needed to get to Selina's place in Oker Apartments in the Narrows. I would have to dig through all of her belongings and inspect every last nook and cranny of the place, just to find something that would give me the answers I needed. It was really the only rational thing I could do at this point.

…

The hour and ten minute walk to the place was splendid. I was sore everywhere by the time I walked into the building. I was covered in sweat, I was dirty and panting like I was running out of oxygen. I then mentally smacked myself upon referring to the body I bared being my own, when again, it was not.

I went up to the same woman who I'd seen before the first time I had gone there, sitting up at the front desk reading a Women's Health magazine, something I wouldn't be looking into for at least another fifteen years.

I pathetically coughed to get her attention. Yes, it was a cheap and obvious gesture, but at this point, I didn't give a damn. She glanced up indifferently, putting on a fake smile. "How may I help you?"

"I've...lost my key to my apartment….and I need a new one," I put sheepishly, while she rolled her eyes and set her read down. "Name please?"

"S-Selina Kyle." God, I hated saying that; I can't even express it. It least this was easier than I thought it would be. She opened up one of the drawers and then turned back to me. "Room number?"

I scanned my thoughts over. What was it again? I then got it, thanks to my rare lucky stars. "Room 214." Phew, just what I needed. Some relief after the hellish 30 hours I had just been through. She handed me a key and sternly remarked that I ought to "keep it in a safer place". Yeah, thanks, I wanted to say, but was too focused on getting to the third floor to even think about my manners.

My hand shook- ah, screw it, might as well call it mine while I have it- as I tried to unlock the door. I took me almost a whole minute before I managed to get the thing in properly and gain access into the room. I stepped in and flicked the switch on- to see quite a mess.

I took some time to scan the abused apartment over before clicking on my searching senses. Crushed cigarettes were everywhere. In the carpet, that was now mostly colored gray and murky from the ashes covering over it, the sofa was compiled of cigarette butts just like the floor, God, they were just…

Everywhere.

There were smashed bottles amidst the room. Anything from simple Blue Moon beer to tall flasks of chianti. My eyes were then drawn to the bags of weed cluttered around the couch by a bunch of DVDs, some being Season's One through Three of Sex and the City, as well as the movie, The Notebook. I snapped out of my shocked state and forced myself to soldier on into the other rooms. I had a shitload of investigating to do, and gaping at her pigsty of a home wasn't going to get me anywhere.

Her kitchen wasn't a pretty sight either. She had dirty dishes piled up by and inside of the sink, as well as old bags of take-out like McDonalds and Panera scattered on the floor and counter. The room's scent wasn't necessarily a pleasant one, rather it was slightly musty and I was sure that there was mold growing in various places in here.

I decided to come back in here later on after digging through her room, for I doubted that I find much of anything useful in there except maybe some unexpired food, that was if I were very fortunate.

This was a small complex, unshockingly, for having been located in the poverty-ridden suburbs of the already poorly financed Narrows. Her room was next to the closet of a laundry room, having literally just a washing machine and dryer in a compact and cramped walk-in area, which by the way was also filthy with her dirty laundry piled up atop the washer next to just a few ounces of detergent left.

I flicked on the light to her room, seeing even more clutter. My slight OCD tendencies were blowing over the charts with this hoard of a place. Such a slob, she was. Then again, it could have very well been her obvious depression that triggered such insouciance. Or maybe she knew at heart that she'd be stealing my body. Oh, I could not go there. It was just too much to handle without going absolutely insane. I had to concentrate on what I was trying to accomplish now, and just now.

Despite the trash, inside-out clothing and other loose and spread out mementos all over the place, the room was pretty simple, to the extroverted glance, that was. I had secrets to unveil, and I doubted that they'd be right there for me atop her white, ruffled bedsheets.

I happened to step in some (presumable) marijuana ash while heading over to her closet that was closed at the time. I grimaced and carried on; there was no time to waste. I separated her slide-doors that were blocking the inside of the bound-to-be intricate closet. I saw a few shirts hanging and some boxes on the floor aside four pairs of very slutty stilettos. Bingo. I gathered the boxes, none of them being heavy at all, seeming to hold nothing much more than papers and notebooks. I tossed them onto the bed and climbed on. This was where I was going to start.

Selina's POV:

Jack.

I really did like it. He...he kind of looked like a 'Jack', in a way. It was simple, yet unique, too. Sort of?

Yet, even though I now did know his name, or at least, it may have been his name. Who knew for sure? He may have just threw that one at me to get me to shut up, for I was being awful persistent after all...That look on his face, though...looked far too sincere. So serious. Adamant. No, he was honest. He had to be.

Now I just had to really work at that last name of his, and shit, would I have to be diligent. Unless of course, I could just avoid seeing him ever again all together. It wasn't like I really liked this freak anyways. I was with my Batsy. All was good at the Wayne Manor, or so I had thought…

I pulled in by the front and got out. I was aching all over from Jack's extreme sexing; his carnal inflictions really having bent my new bod out of shape. Bruce was far, far more gentle. Nothing like the sexually famined clown freak of the twenty first century. And there was the fact that he was a good deeder, unlike my Mister who was apparently an assassin of some sort. Not that I really knew for sure; he wasn't straightforward with me on anything. It drove me crazy.

I shrugged off the last night's escapades and fought to conjure up an excuse for my day-long absence. I didn't think excusing that "I had more fun with Selina" would really sound feasible this time, for it hardly had the last. Well, the only thing I could think up was that I was on an out of town trip with my co workers for a big project we're doing, and was unable to contact him as my phone was dead, and I hadn't the chance to use a regular telephone for I was far too *busy*. It would have to do.

I put on a little act while sneaking inside of the manor. I closed the door behind me and careful as a sly fox and tiptoed towards the stairs. As I passed the kitchen I heard Bruce speaking with that butler guy, um, Alvin.

I stood just around the corner outside the kitchen, listening in on their little convo.

"I'm sure she's alright, sir," said the geezer.

"She hasn't even called, Alfred! God, I'm afraid something really happened to her this time."

Oh, so it was Alfred…

"What happened to who?" I chipped in coming into view. They both shot me odd looks, seeming to be totally baffled by my sudden appearance. Bruce, the distraught look on his face now making me queasy, came my way with slow and careful strides, as if thinking I was an illusion or something.

"Dian, where the hell have ya been?"

Huh! "Wow, hon, I'm doing great, thanks for asking," I affirmed just as blunt as he, stepping into the kitchen to snoop around for something to eat. I was famished.

I opened the fridge and found the leftover alfredo to be promising. Bruce kept his hands on his hips as if he were my abusive daddy as I sashayed over to the microwave to heat my quizine.

He sighed and paced around, obviously frustrated with me. I had to appreciate his damn given for me though. "You've been gone for nearly a whole day. I'm merely curious as to where you have been spent the past 22 hours," he necessitated with just a hint of vigilance in his sexy and charismatic tone, that I loved to heck.

I pushed the microwave door shut and set it to 1:05 then turned my full-on attention to my lover. "I had to go on a trip outside of Gotham with my co workers for some big ass assignment we had to do. My cell died on me and I was too busy to reach you by a regular phone. The 'escapade' had taken a bit longer than I'd hoped, hence my reasoning for being absent for nearly two whole clock cycles. Sorry."

Silence filled the room aside from the audible radiance of the microwave plate spinning round in a continuous circle and heat building up inside. Geez, the quiet was becoming...disquieting. They were both still shooting looks of pure disbelief at me, as if I'd just killed a close friend or something. All I did was get a job at a strip club and sleep with some clown murderer named 'Jack'. Nothing too negligent, right? Shit, if only they'd've known.

My meal dinged and I wasted no time with getting it out and digging in. Bruce continued to pace around slowly and sigh to himself, while the Al guy just stood still as a statue with his hands crossed around his back, seeming to try and remain as nonchalant as possible, though I suppose that was what he was payed for. Keeping his own opinions to himself, to wither and rot in his elderly memory. It was inimically upsetting, when put through so much thought.

"Was this really that sudden? I mean, I don't see why you weren't informed of this a while prior...Peculiar, to be entirely frank."

I scoffed lightly. "Ain't anything not peculiar about Gotham, sweetie. This city's all for extracting from the norm." I set my dish down after having gotten full faster than normal. I planted a kiss on my honey's cheek before strutting out of the kitchen to leave the butler and the billionaire to take it all in amongst themselves.

I went upstairs to get fresh clothes on. It was Saturday, and fun was to be had. That was just one of my inherited 'Selina' traits that I still had despite the transcendence. I lived for the party. That would never change.

Diana's POV:

I had spent hours just going through her boxes, finding nothing of use. It was all nonsense, really. Much of it having been inscrutable letters to some 'lover' who she had never had the chance to mail it to. Much of the paperwork contained smeared makeup and graphic context, more in the language sense than sexual explicitness. One would be able to tell just how much of a mess she was just by skimming any one of these notes. It was absolute gibberish!

I came across what seemed to be a diary in the final box I was digging through. I knew that I'd likely get nothing much out of it besides plenty of bitching and ridiculously messy penmanship from having been written under either extreme distress or intoxication.

The first page was worn yet readable. It was dated back to spring of 2005, shortly before I met Selina for the first time. She must have been around eighteen or so. I read through the short passage of just a few paragraphs, and then figured out where Selina's depression had likely stemmed. Her mother had been dying from lung cancer. I knew that her mother had passed away, for Selina had told me before when we worked together, but I realized little just how dear she was to her, and how she was her life. Her devotion. The next few entries spoke of her early days of theft, then it moved on to the day of her mother's death.

Today is May 16, 2005.

I'm shocked that I haven't done it yet. Had I, I would be with her. Mama. I want to see her again. She left today. The asshole high above took her away from me. She was all I had left.

Why today? Why not another fifty years from now? Fuck, she was just 38 goddammit! She raised me, saved my from dad's violent ways, loved me unconditionally. Now she can't. I hate it. I ran out of the fuckin' hospital when they took her away from me and told me she was "no longer with us." Assholes, it is as if they killed her. I smoked and I smoked and smoked out on the lot behind the building where my Mom lost her life, and then I stopped. I dropped the remainder of my pack that held another good eight or so smokes still and I crushed it. Smashed it deep into the wet concrete. Mom has just died of lung cancer. Smokes killed her. Yeah, it was raining today. No, downpouring. I stood out in the 72 degrees sopping wet and screaming my own fuckin' lungs out. Now I wanna die.

Seriously, where do I go from here?

It had appeared that the death of her mother invoked her depressive ways. I checked the latest entry date that went back to '07, meaning that I probably wouldn't be finding out anything about the psychic who she had only claimed to have met just recently. But at least now I could get to know more about the mess that is Selina Kyle through her self-loathing entries, because though they were old, they were still relevant.

…

The clock ticked on. I sat with my legs crossed while sitting in an upright position on her mattress that had been collecting dust along with everything else since her absence. Shortly after her mother's passing, she took on the rebellious behaviors. The stealing and other unlawful deeds. Though she spoke little of her promiscuous tendencies and rather focused on what she did to get by, and how she'd done things to 'her accord', even when it came with hazardous results.

In two years she had gone from LA to Chicago, to Gotham, to New York, to Cleveland, and her final recorded destination having been Boston. She just couldn't stand being in one place for long, it seemed.

Now, what I was really trying to solve here was why she hated herself so much. When she had gotten the idea to swap bodies, she must have thought that she would literally become me. She was so disgusted with who she had become that she resorted to taking on another life. I slapped the book closed after figuring out her true purpose. The damn fool.

She had the impression that she could run away from herself. She may have had my body, but she was still, and always will be, Selina Kyle.

I had been ignoring my biological needs for hours, neglecting to get up to use the restroom or even eat. I felt weak and malnourished. Not to mention I really could've used a shower at this point. Until I could regain my own body, I had to take care of this one.

I got up and went into her unkempt kitchen to dig around for something to eat, if anything in here was even edible. Her refrigerator was comprised of not much more than turned milk and a few jars of olives that were near their expiration date. It would have to do until I could find some loose change that was likely to be hidden amongst the trash of this place.

After gagging on sour olives with lukewarm water, I went into her not-so-pristine bathroom that was at the end of the small hall by the compact laundry space. On the tiled floor were plenty of dirty bras and underwear and on the counter with the sink were tipped over and overlapping bottles of lotion and body wash. Her half empty bottles of Herbal Essences shampoo and conditioner were tilted against one another in the metal rack inside of the shower. I found two clean white towels folded over the edge of the tub. Essentially, I had all that I really needed.

I now had to undress for the first time. All I had done with this body before in the past thirty-some hours was pull down my pants and underwear to use the restroom, not really 'seeing' anything then anyways. This was going to be awkward for sure.

I slowly began to shed away my clothes, not having really been wearing too much to begin with. My shirt, strapless bra, pants and underwear were now toppled over one another in a small pile on the floor. I then had to force myself to look into the mirror before me.

Selina was most certainly a very beautiful woman. The 5'3 multiracial woman of twenty-five had really over judged herself. Her eyes were large and doe-like and dark brown, her hair was shoulder length, very curly and coffee-colored with short bangs swept to the side. Her lips were full yet small, teeth straight and white, and nose small and absolutely perfect. Her breasts were small yet perky. She was lean and lithe in physical appearance. I then noticed a few scars aligned across her right thigh- my right thigh. I traced my fingers over the three little yet noticeable marks that were permanently carved into my skin. I didn't want to believe that the troubled girl placed them there herself, but knowing Selina, I definitely couldn't disregard that theory. She did have worn slits on her wrists after all, and I knew for a fact that those were self-inflicted.

I took my eyes away from the mirror and pulled open the dark green shower curtain that hung from the shower rings high above myself. I turned both knobs and waited a fairly long time for the water to turn just a tad hot. I stepped in and let the water pour down on me, taking its time to thoroughly soak the large quantity of thick hair that I had. I still felt so strange, and on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, yet I was gradually getting used to this. I wouldn't be getting too comfortable of course, since I had adamant plans of getting my body back.

It took me awhile to comb through and untangle her thick locks. Don't get me wrong, her hair was gorgeous, but also difficult to manage. My hair was far easier to deal with, for just being slightly wavy, preventing snarls from clumping up on a frequent basis.

When I stepped out I wrapped one towel around my small frame and used the other to wrap my hair into a turban for drying. I would have to seek-out a blowdryer later on, if she had one. I then obligated to find something new to put on rather than the clothes I had been previously wearing. I opened up her closet and found a small white gown and then some fresh yet skimpy panties in one of her drawers. She had no boyshorts or comfortable and practical Fruit of the Looms like myself. I felt sickened at the thought of her dressing me up in the slut attire that she usually sports...Ugh….

It was now nearly eight at night. I figured more detective work around the house would prove beneficiary. I was headed back into the bedroom to dig through her other junk when the phone rang. I had failed to realize she even had a phone. It was connected to the living room wall with a cord.

I almost hesitated to answer it. It could've been anyone, well, except Bruce, Alfred, or Selina, at least, probably not. I decided it best to answer anyway. Might as well, maybe this person could help me out, though that was not to be considered.

"Hello?"

"...Selina? I need to speak wit you. It is urgent, and it's about your careless decision." It was some woman with an accent. I was intrigued right away. She had seemed to know of the transcendence, or at least, it seemed so.

I was kind of at loss for words. I wasn't Selina, yet I was. I went with playing it safe, for now. "Who is this?" I asked. I heard her lightly scoff at the other end as if in slight disbelief.

"I am sorry if I have interrupted someting. It is Esmeralda. I wasn't even sure if you would still be residing at your apartment still. You know, I tought perhaps you took over the residence of this 'Diana' woman, since you stole her body and all."

Oh my God. Thank God! "YES! YES YES YES! I am Diana! That's me!" I began to sob in spite of relief. Finally, someone who knew and believed this bullshit! "She- she, I don't even know how it happened- she just did it, unexpectedly-"

"Oh my. I am terribly sorry for what has happened to you, my dear. It is truly unthinkable, what she did to you. I hadn't thought for a second that she'd actually go through wit it."

Wait...this woman knew that she knew about this?

"What? Do you mean to say that you knew about this, before it happened?" I blurted, with slight edge in my tone. I felt my nerves fire up upon realizing that this was preventable.

"Yis. You see, I am the one who told her of the 'Cambio de corpo' curse. Over the years I had heard from various sources that it was hidden here in Gotham in the museum somewhere in the basement. I was dubious to the theory, not believing that such a ting would be even located in the states, but, apparently-"

"So, it was your fault that this happened?!"

"Now, now, had I known that she had actually taken up the consideration, I would have kept my lips sealed! I promise you, darling, I realize now that she isn't the woman I had perceived her to be. She has a darker heart. Corrupted from facing too much abuse in her life, I assume. I saw through her in our first reading a few monts ago. She was troubled, I saw, and conceited to a degree. Though, I haven't the skill to presume the future too well. While I do specialize in palm reading and preternatural prognostic analysis, I cannot depict everyones fate or actions, and I have little skill in telepathy."

I exhaled my pent up frustration and had to message my temples to ease the sudden strain put on me. This would have never happened if Selina had never met this 'psychic' woman. Damn.

"Listen, I need your help. I need you to tell me where you think another um, 'curse' like this can be found. I am willing to travel anywhere in order to get it."

I heard an upset sounding sigh on the other end. I then feared what she had to say next. "I am afraid that I am oblivious to the knowledge of another transcendence spell even existing. I am baffled to say the least to have understood that there was even one in existence. This is purely astonishing."

"NO! No, please, Es-Esmeralda, You must do something! I can't carry on like this! I can't let her have my life! I - I just can't."

"Darling, I cannot help you, but I know someone who may be able to. You will need to meet me here tomorrow morning at around noon, if that is alright wit you. I can tell you where to find this man who may have the knowledge that I do not, and I also need to tell you of a few other things that unfortunately consequence your transcendence, now, I have to leave on an important call from one of my patients-"

"Consequence? You mean bad things are going to happen to us?" Of course, why wouldn't there have been 'consequences' to follow such a reckless practice? It'd have been weird if there was not any dues to pay.

"We can further discuss this later, Sel- Diana. Just stay where you are and for your own sake, do not get into contact with Selina."

"Why? What would happen?"

She again sighed, showing that she really wanted to exit this conversation. "Knowing this girl, I see that she is violently natured. I warn you now to keep out of her way and especially refrain brewing any altercations with her. But also, she must stay out of trouble while in your body as well."

"But why?" I had to press on.

"Because...the spell dictates that, when one of the persons in the others body dies, so does the other."

My heart sank. I felt the strong urge to vomit from angst. Nothing about Selina Kyle was 'careful'.

"Hold on, please, you don't mean-"

"I must go now. We'll meet tomorrow. Good night, and just be patient." She hung up, leaving me be for another torturous night full of indefinite anticipation.

A/N: A conclusion is not too far away now, just to answer any ponderings on where the story was headed and how long it's going to go on. I will be writing another story after this one that focuses more on Catwoman, and her story to follow after this one. And I'd like to thank all of my followers who are still with the story :)

Next chapter will be up soon~