A/N: So, I'll be honest with you guys: I completely forgot to write an entire scene at the end of the last chapter. Yeah…that's my bad. It's a scene between Ted and Bruce where they talk and it's really important but I totally forgot so I decided to change up my original continuity (by about a week) and throw it in between the first scene and the rest of the chapter because it works.
So anyways, here's Chapter 37 + the last scene of Chapter 36. Hope you enjoy!
Cards on the Table
Selina walked out of his apartment and leaned up against the closed door, trying to recollect her thoughts.
First, the night before, she and Bruce had had a sweet reunion, he bought her dinner, and he gave her a kiss on the forehead that warmed her to her core before he ran off into the night.
Then, later that night, she sees him see her see him kidnapping her.
Then, the next morning, she finds him and he's acting like nothing ever happened, claiming that he'd been working in Bludhaven all night.
What was she supposed to make of that? What was happening?
He wasn't lying, she was certain of it. She would know if he was. But what other explanations were there? And what was this other 'job' that Jack had told her about?
Shit. How had she forgotten to bring that up? He'd gotten so flustered when she brought up Jack, like he was horrified at the thought of her being in danger, which completely contradicted him assaulting Alfred and kidnapping her. It'd thrown her off.
She had half a mind to march back upstairs and confront him, but she was already in the lobby. The receptionist, a young, blonde woman in her early twenties, called at her, "Excuse me, are you that Cat girl?"
Selina nodded slowly. "Yes…have we met before?"
The young woman laughed good-naturedly and shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. I've just heard Bruce and Jean talk about you, several times. Jean teases him and…well…I figured if Jean hadn't come back yet and Bruce was…you know…taking a girl up to their apartm–"
"No! No, that isn't…we're not…" Selina stammered loudly, gaining a few wary glances from the other occupants of the lobby. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "No, we're not…"
The woman shook her head and waved off Selina's attempts, saying, "Oh, honey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. He's a very good looking young…"
Selina was already out of the lobby before she finished her sentence, zipping down the street with her tail between her legs. Her cheeks were beet red and she knew it. She had much bigger fish to fry than her relationship status with Bruce. If she was a regular teenager, that's all that would matter to her, but most teenagers didn't have secret societies breathing down their necks.
What had her life become?
She took out her phone and sent Alfred a quick text. Bruce may've offered to drive her home, but she sure as hell wasn't about to get in a car with him, not in his current state. Not after he'd kidnapped her twelve hours ago.
She met Alfred around the corner, the limousine getting curious looks from passersby. She climbed inside and was immediately met by a barrage of questions, but she ignored him.
After a few more attempts at breaking her cold exterior, Alfred asked, "Are you alright?"
She shrugged. "I found him." She left it at that, keeping her gaze fixed outside. He left her alone after that, driving them out of the Narrows.
She thought over the question through the drive. Yes, she was fine. It was Bruce she was worried about. Kathryn had threatened him and now he was acting strange. The way he'd looked at her last night, like he didn't even recognize her, like he didn't know what he was doing. She wanted to get answers out of him, but did he know them?
She'd keep trying, he was worth it, but if she couldn't get the answers out of him…
"Can we stop by Wayne Enterprises before we go home?" she piped up loudly, nearly causing Alfred to veer off the road.
After a few frantic swerves and a lot of swearing at Gotham drivers, Alfred responded, "Of course, Miss Wayne. But…I feel that I should remind you–"
"You don't need to," she sharply responded. Alfred slowly nodded and went quiet, again. She knew what he was going to say, that she'd promised those people she wouldn't investigate them any further. Even if they hadn't been entirely responsible for her parents' deaths, they'd crossed a line when they started messing with Bruce Kyle.
They were gonna get what was coming to them, one way or another.
A few days had passed since he'd last seen Selina. He hadn't gone out of his way to contact her, but it still felt odd after seeing her multiple times within two days. It felt like she was avoiding him.
Yet, he wasn't exactly raring to see her either. She was hiding something and he didn't like it, not one bit. But what could he do about it?
He mostly stayed home over the week. With Jean off on his investigation, he had the apartment to himself. Talia hadn't contacted him since Bludhaven, and Floyd was off somewhere doing his own thing. All was quiet, and he was getting impatient.
After a week of waiting for something to happen, he finally, graciously, got an alert on his phone. He lazily stretched across the couch to grab it off the table, flicking it open.
His eyes went wide and he sat bolt upright. He read the message a few times over, and then got a wide, cocky grin. He turned off the Rogues game and leapt across the den to his bedroom. He dove under his bed, removing a crate from underneath it, throwing the lid open, and smiling down at his weaponry.
Oh, what to choose…
He restrained himself from grabbing his two year-old pair of brass knuckles, the ones he always seemed to pick, and settled on a newer pair he'd bought for his sixteenth birthday, along with his knife. He was half tempted to bring along one of the smoke pellets Jean had gifted him, but this didn't seem like the proper occasion for stealth.
He slammed the lid shut and slid it back under his bed, bolting out of his room towards the window. He grabbed his jacket off the couch and climbed over the windowsill, climbing up to the rooftops.
The address was only a few blocks away and it seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
But if one of Hugo Strange's freaks was there, there was money to be made. Since the million-dollar bounty on Fish Mooney's head was redacted by Penguin, there hadn't been a single monster sighting, and that was very bad for business. He needed this one.
He crossed the Narrows in less than two minutes, sliding down a lamppost to the ground and tearing across the street. He whipped around the corner and found himself face-to-face with the location.
He looked the building up and down, the gravity of the situation finally landing on him. He knew the address because he'd lived here. In big, bold, ugly red letters, the sign read: Henry Grant Boxing Gym. And instead of a monster standing in front of it, there was only his big brother.
"Hey, kiddo," Ted called. He looked mad.
Bruce glanced up and down the street, still hoping there was a monster to fight. He'd prefer that than having a conversation with a pissed off Ted Grant. Alas, there was no freak in sight.
"Hey, Ted," Bruce replied slowly.
Let's get something straight: over the past half a year, Bruce had made a lot of progress on his build. He'd come a long way from the long, lanky kid he'd once been, but his older brother was on a different level. If Bruce hadn't witnessed his rigorous training regimen since age eleven, he would've bet everything he owned that Ted was on some kind of steroid. He made some professional TV wrestlers look like children. Was he tall? No. In fact he was an inch or two shorter than Bruce nowadays, but his biceps were the size of cannonballs and his fists were comparable to cinderblocks. When he was sixteen, he'd practically been forced to give up boxing because no other kids his age were willing, or able, to fight him. Now, he was twenty-one going on twenty-two, graduated top of his class in the police academy, and was the scariest beat cop in the city.
And hanging in his left hand were two pairs of boxing gloves.
Bruce swallowed hard, eyeing the gloves warily. "What's up?"
Ted shrugged. His demeanor seemed casual, but everything else about him screamed otherwise. "Oh, nothing much, how 'bout you?" Bruce said nothing. Ted nodded, "Well, it must've been a whole lot of important nothing since I've been trying to get a hold of you for a week."
Bruce stood completely still; unsure of whether or not he was supposed to speak. Ted didn't give him a chance. He tossed him a pair of gloves and trudged inside the gym. Bruce slowly followed suit, knowing too well what was about to happen.
He silently went to the locker room and switched into a tank top, basketball shorts, and tennis shoes. He pulled on his gloves and slowly approached the ring. Ted was already standing there, glaring him down as he approached. The whole gym had gone near silent, every pair of eyes on him as he marched to his grave.
At least there'd be plenty of witnesses to his demise.
He stepped inside the ring, Ted calmly leaning in the corner across from him. Bruce took an extra long time to stretch out, but he was delaying the inevitable. A small crowd had gathered around the ring, now, waiting expectantly to see how Ted would tear him apart.
Finally, Bruce turned around, wincing when he saw the dull rage in Ted's eyes. Ted glanced around the ring, seeing the crowd, and barked, "The hell're you lookin' at?!"
The crowd quickly dispersed, and Bruce felt relief and dread all at once. Relief that a mob of people weren't about to watch him get his ass handed to him. Dread that there was no one left to jump in if things went too far.
But they wouldn't go too far, right? Ted was his older brother after all. He was gonna get knocked around a bit, sure, but he wouldn't really hurt him, right?
Still, he kept his hands high.
They nodded and stepped towards each other. Ted barked, "Chin down, Kyle!" He threw a haymaker that just barely glanced off of Bruce's gloves. Still, the force knocked Bruce back. He tried to reset his footing, but it was too late. A flurry of punches later, he was flat on his back, wheezing for breath.
Ted looked down at him and sighed. He stuck out a hand and lifted him up off the ground, waiting patiently for Bruce to regain his wind.
When he started breathing again, Ted calmly asked, "Okay, now that I knocked some sense into you, talk to me. What's been going on with you?"
Bruce resumed his boxing stance and they started again, Ted visibly going far slower than before. As they sparred, Bruce told him everything from his job with the League (which Ted already knew about) to his weird dreams (which, once again, Ted was already familiar with). But he primarily focused on his talk with Selina and his feeling that she was hiding something.
When he finished, Ted scoffed and dropped his gloves to his sides. "Huh, that's funny," he commented offhandedly.
Bruce took the obvious bait. "What's funny?"
He shook his head. "I guess funny ain't the right word. Ironic is more like it."
"Wow, 'ironic', that's a big word for a beat cop," Bruce teased. Ted caught him on the ear, reminding him who was in charge. "Fine then, what's ironic?"
"Selina called me two days ago and said the same thing."
Bruce momentarily dropped his gloves, and Ted made him pay for it. By the time he recovered enough to try and defend himself, he was sitting on the canvas. Ted extended a hand and Bruce shrugged. "Well…at least she's right."
When he regained his feet, Ted surprisingly dropped his stance. Since he'd first knocked him on his ass, he'd become more light-hearted, more like the older brother he'd grown up with. But suddenly his expression went serious. That alone made Bruce anxious. But then, Ted asked the million dollar question:
"Do you love her?"
Bruce blinked a few times, unsure if he'd heard that right. Ted's expression remained serious and his words finally dawned on Bruce.
Yeah, he blushed very, very hard.
Ted rolled his eyes, throwing a light jab into his ribs. "It doesn't have to be that kind of love. For example: I love my idiot little brother. I love my friends. I love our dad. I'd do anything for any of them."
Bruce shrugged, throwing a few jabs back at his brother. "I mean, if you put it like that…yeah, I guess."
Ted nodded, throwing a few harder hits at Bruce's chest. "Okay then, you love her. So why the hell are you lying to her?"
Bruce threw a pair of punches back, harder than before. "I'm just trying to protect her."
Ted scoffed, nearly knocking him flat on his ass, again. "Oh yeah? How well has that gone so far?" Bruce didn't respond and Ted lowered his gloves. "Keeping secrets will ruin your life," he stated. "They never turn out well, no matter how well intentioned they might seem. The truth comes to life, always."
Bruce cocked an eyebrow. "Did you get that from a fortune cookie or something?"
Ted hit him, again, chiding, "This is serious, B. If you want Selina to be honest with you, how could you do any less for her?"
Before Bruce could respond, Ted's police radio went off. He huffed. "I have to go. I got stuck patrolling around the Sirens for Cobblepot's Victory Party." He pulled off his gloves and placed a firm hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Bruce, how many girls have I dated?"
Bruce knit his brow. "Is this a trick question or are you just trying to brag?"
Ted shook his head. "Neither. How many girls have I dated?"
Bruce exhaled loudly. "Let's see, there was Kathy, Tina, the other Kathy, Becky, Audrey, Tina again…was there a Lauren? I feel like there was a Lauren…"
"And how many of those lasted more than a month?"
Bruce slowly shook his head. "None of them."
"Exactly. What you have with Selina, whatever it is, it's stronger than anything I've ever had with anyone ever, and I had a five year head start. So, take it from me: don't mess this up because you're scared of telling her the truth. She's tough. She won't leave."
He gave him a pat on the shoulder and headed out of the ring, but Bruce stood there for a long time afterwards. How Ted seemed to always know exactly what he was thinking, Bruce would never know. Those last three words…they had to have hurt Ted to say. Ted's mom had been killed in a drug deal gone wrong, and Bruce's mom had up and left him. They both knew what it felt like, someone who you love unconditionally tossing you aside. It made you feel worthless.
Selina wasn't like that. She was nothing like his mother. He didn't need to be afraid of telling her the truth, but he still got a pit in his stomach at the thought.
But what if she did leave? What would he do then?
But she wouldn't. She'd stood by him through everything. He'd done everything in his power to push her away and she hadn't given up on him.
So what was he so afraid of?
This was Selina Wayne they were talking about, his best friend, his partner in crime. And Ted was right. There was something there. He knew it was there and he knew what it was called.
He could do this. He could tell her the truth, all of it. She'd accept him. And if she didn't…well...what else did he have to lose?
He glanced across the room at the TV in the corner. The news was airing, some GCNN reporter standing in front of the Sirens Night Club where "newly-elected Mayor Oswald Cobblepot's Victory Party" was taking place.
If Bruce had to bet, the heiress of Gotham's first family was sure to get an invite to something like that.
And it was well past time for him to have a conversation with Selina Wayne.
Alfred escorted Selina through a mob of paparazzi. She hadn't exactly been active in the public eye since the Maniax had nearly taken her hostage. Now that she was older, the tabloids turned from whether or not she'd seek counseling to whether or not she'd take the reins at her father's company before adulthood. Some questioned her naivety and youth. A certain photograph kept resurfacing of her kissing a mystery boy at the Wayne Enterprises Charity Gala over two years ago. The kid was long and skinny with dark ruffled hair (which he had attempted to tame) and darker eyes. He fit right in with the crowd of millionaires.
She knew who her partner was, but no one else did, and the tabloids were searching in all of the wrong places. The boy was a ghost.
Alfred pulled her into the building, throwing a few curses at the reporters as they passed. Selina smoothed out her dress. A year ago, she would've fought and clawed had Alfred tried to make her wear a dress, but things had changed. Two months living in hell with Bruce had taught her to appreciate what she'd inherited. Besides, wearing anything besides a dress to an occasion such as this would put her even more in the spotlight than she was already, just not for the right reasons.
So she trudged into the elevator and went up to the penthouse, Alfred sending her not-so-subtle, wary glances. She hadn't told him much about her new investigation, just saying that there was one loose end she needed to pull on. If it came up empty, then she'd gladly abide by her agreement with the group running her company. If not…
The elevator door rolled open and they stepped into the Sirens Club. Live music was being played on the stage as dozens of people in expensive evening wear mingled about. She scanned the club for someone, anyone she recognized, but to no avail.
She sighed. "How long do we have to stay?"
Alfred chuckled. "As long as it takes for you to be seen in the world, Miss Wayne."
She rolled her eyes. "I think the paparazzi took care of that for me, don't you?"
"Be that as it may, as a Wayne this is your role to play, a steady force for Gotham to rely upon."
She scoffed. "A mob boss is the mayor. We're at his victory party in a club run by a psycho."
"Exactly my point. The people need someone strong to lean upon, someone to look these people in the eye and stand their ground–"
"As we let a faceless group take over my company on a threat," she rebuffed, shaking her head.
"That was your decision, Miss Wayne."
"Well they didn't give me much of a choice."
"And what good would going home to lock yourself away in your father's study and research them until you collapse do you, eh? Play their game, Miss Wayne. Throw them off your scent."
"So that's why you're making me do this."
Alfred chuckled. "No, Miss Wayne, I'm making you do this to get you out of the bloody house for once. Need I remind you that you're sixteen and a billionaire? You need to fraternize, meet new people, make friends."
"I have friends."
"You have one and he's a criminal and we are not talking about this right now because we are at a party."
She huffed, threw one more longing look back at the elevator, and then marched headfirst into the nest of vipers. It took less than a minute for the king cobra himself to find them.
"Selina, Mr. Pennyworth, I'm so pleased you made it," Penguin called as he waddled towards them. He hadn't changed much since the last time Selina had seen him, besides switching his Arkham Asylum onesie for a suit and cane.
"Yeah, well, you know, we're trying to get out a bit more, Mr. Mayor," Alfred greeted.
"Oh, Oswald, please," Cobblepot insisted.
"So, mayor?" Selina started. "Quite the career change."
Oswald shrugged. "I got help, turned my life around. The death of my poor, poor mother…it changed me. I'm sure you'd understand."
Selina clenched her fist behind her back. She had to remind herself that scratching the mayor's eye out was a crime. Still…it was tempting. Instead, she forced her best fake smile onto her lips, and agreed, "Yes, I think I do. And now here you are, the new mayor."
"Sometimes life has a way of working out."
She gave a curt nod. "Yes, that's true. But I won't take up any more of your time. I'm sure you have other guests you'd like to speak with."
Penguin gave a polite bow. "It was a pleasure seeing you both, again. I look forward to working with you more in the future, Selina."
Selina nodded and forced herself to keep smiling. Cobblepot hobbled off and she muttered, "Like hell."
Alfred nodded approvingly. "Well done, Miss Wayne. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to wet my beak before we head off."
She nodded and he walked off, disappearing into the mass of bodies. She leaned up against a wall, closing her eyes and trying to block out the noise of the party. She'd been seen with Cobblepot. She might just get out of that nest of vipers yet.
"Selina Wayne…" a chilling voice called. Her eyes shot open and her hand instinctually jumped to her forearm. Alas, she was wearing a sleeveless dress and her knife was nowhere to be found. Standing in front of her was none other than Jack Napier himself. His long, disgusting hair was plastered to his scalp, somehow looking worse than normal. He wore a suit that was far too expensive for a teen from the Narrows, yet he somehow managed to make even that look tacky. He approached her with a wide smile, but his eyes told an entirely different story. His confidence in the midst of the elites of Gotham sent a clear message: he was the most dangerous person in the room. He knew it, and everyone else did too. Selina suddenly became very aware that her back was to a wall. He eyed her up and down, giving a low whistle. "You clean up nice."
"You don't."
He gave a strained chuckle, taking another step towards her. She had to force herself to not shove him back. "Now, now, that's not very nice."
"What do you want?"
He put a hand across his chest as if he took offense. "Can't I check up with my favorite kitty?" She glared at him. He sighed. "I guess not. But tell me: has Brucey told you about his 'new job' yet?" he drawled, taking another half step forwards. Her expression hardened, but she remained silent. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You could do better than Kyle, ya know."
"Go to hell," she spat.
He laughed out loud. "You may've not noticed from your ivory tower, but we're already here, sweetheart. And I'm the devil."
She gave a short bark of a laugh. "Oh please, you're nothing."
He shrugged. "Maybe...for now." He momentarily glanced off to the right and did a double take. A wicked smile stretched across his face. "Look, kitty cat. Here comes your knight in shining leather."
Selina couldn't help herself but turn and look.
She'd never been so glad to see Bruce Kyle in her life. He was pushing his way through the crowd, his path locked on where she and Jack were standing.
She hadn't noticed it since she was turned away from Jack, but he had taken another step forwards to the point where they were breathing the same air. He whispered into her ear, "How many lies has he told you?"
She shoved him backwards, putting a few feet back between them just as Bruce reached her. He stood slightly in front of her, his fists knuckles white as he glared Jack down. Selina had seen that look once before, right before Bruce nearly killed Sonny Gilzean. Yet, she didn't feel the need to try and calm him down. Although his eyes were alight with a fiery rage and his fists were clenched, but there was something else in his eyes, too.
Jack smiled. "Hello, Bruce. Been a while, hasn't it?"
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Bruce responded icily.
"Well, a word of advice, one friend to another: keep a better eye on your cat. There are plenty of unsavory folk in this city, after all. A pretty face like that walking around alone, well, you're just asking for someone to–"
Selina slapped him.
Hard.
He reeled back for a moment, holding his cheek in his hand as he stared at her. Bruce turned back, too, meeting her eyes for the first time. His cheeks were drained of color.
She quickly figured out what that other thing in his demeanor was called.
Fear.
Bruce was afraid.
Jack started laughing. He stared at her with sick amusement. Everything in her told her to step back, to apologize, but she held her ground. She was a Wayne, and there was no way in hell she was backing down to someone like this.
Still, Jack's words felt like ice crawling up her spine. "I'll be seeing you, Selina," he growled before slinking off into the crowd.
Bruce moved quickly, latching his hand around hers and dragging her in the opposite direction of where Jack had gone. She didn't raise a protest, allowing him to take her down a hallway, up a staircase, and out onto the roof of the building.
He suddenly stopped, whipped around, and grabbed her by her shoulders. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his warm breath on her face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he demanded.
"I'm fine, Bruce," she told him soothingly. "Jack was just being a creep."
Bruce nodded slowly. A range of emotions rapidly flashed through his eyes, first worry, then relief, and then…
"What the hell were you thinking?!" he shouted.
She took a step back in surprise. That had to be the first time he'd ever raised his voice at her, and she didn't like it. Instead of giving in, she shot back, "I was thinking that he needed someone to teach him a–"
"NOT HIM!" Bruce yelled. "AND NOT YOU! I TOLD YOU, I SPECIFICALLY SAID TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM–!"
"WELL WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO, LET HIM WALK ALL OVER YOU?!"
"YES!"
Selina's next words died in her throat. She hadn't been expecting him to say that. She shook her head. "He's nothing but a creep who's too afraid to–"
"Whatever you're about to say is wrong," Bruce interrupted.
She knit her brow. "What?"
"He isn't afraid," Bruce told her adamantly. "Not of me, not of Penguin, not of the cops, not of anyone. That's why I told you to stay away from him. These people, they're too…" He groaned in frustration.
Selina took a slow step forward, glancing between Bruce's eyes. They were filled with turmoil. She took a deep breath and asked, "What aren't you telling me, Bruce?"
He clenched his jaw and turned away from her, looking out over the Gotham skyline. This was it, his big moment, the one he'd been prepping for all day. Hell, he'd borrowed a tux from Jean's closet for this. Here he was, alone with nothing but the sky and Selina to keep him company. How many ways could he approach his answer? Where was he supposed to start?
She'd hear him, she'd understand, she was stronger than him. He could tell her anything.
Yet it was terrifying nonetheless.
He took a deep breath and told her, "You're right. I've been keeping secrets."
She nodded. "Yeah, I got that already. Spill."
He grinned weakly. "It's not that simple."
"How could it possibly not be that simple? You've been keeping something from me, and now you're gonna tell me what."
In the course of a few seconds, Bruce had a mental war of which secret to admit to first, or at all. He had to tell her about one of them, he'd explode if he kept it to himself any longer, but the other one was debatably more complicated. He'd gone over this a million times, but it didn't make it any easier.
He took one more deep breath and started, "We've been friends a long time, Selina. And ever since you've known me, I've simply been trying to survive day-to-day, but things have changed. I don't know what's next, but I know–"
"Would you, please…just say what you mean?" Selina asked.
"I like you."
A moment of silence passed, even the buzz of the city streets turning into a low hum. It was just him and Selina, standing on a rooftop. She remained silent, but her eyes were rapidly jumping between his.
"As in more than a friend," he clarified.
She kept quiet, narrowing her eyes slightly as she stared at him.
He nervously looked around, feeling his neck and cheeks starting to heat up under her gaze. "It would be nice if you said something back."
She stared for a few more seconds. "Bruce, how many times have we kissed?"
His cheeks went beet red. "What?"
She chuckled and shook her head. "It's not a trick question. How many times have we kissed?"
A light grin started to spread across his face as he saw her demeanor shift. "Depends, are we talking cheek and forehead kisses or just lips?"
She nodded, thankful that he was finally getting it. "If you need me to clarify that, I think it says enough about my feelings for you."
"So…you like me, too?" he asked, only half-joking.
She gave him the biggest eye roll of her life before taking his collar in her hands and pulling him down to her level. She mumbled, "You're such an idiot," and she kissed him.
When she finally pulled away, Bruce was grinning ear to ear. "Four."
She cocked an eyebrow. "What?"
"We've kissed four times," he stated.
She smiled. "Make that five," she joked as she kissed him again.
They ended up sitting on the edge of the building, their legs dangling over the seven story drop. He had his arm around her shoulders and her head was tucked into his neck. They watched the traffic below, the strobe lights from the club shining out the windows and reflecting off the neighboring buildings. Gotham could be beautiful if you looked at it from the right angle.
But there was still something hanging over him, one last secret.
"Cat," he started.
"Mhmm?" she purred.
"I'm done keeping secrets." She hummed for him to go on. "I have one more."
She sat back and looked at him. She seemed apprehensive, even more so than him. "Okay, talk to me."
"The people I work with, the people Jean works for, they're called the League of Assassins."
"Assassins?" Selina asked. "That doesn't seem like your style."
He shook his head. "That's why I work with them, not for them. They tried to get me to join, but I'd have to kill someone. I refused, but their leader likes me."
She knit her brow. "You know, Bruce, that seems like a more important secret than your crush on me."
He shrugged. "I told you, I'm done with secrets. Big and small."
She chuckled, leaning into him. "That's fair, I guess…but I do have one question." He hummed for her to go on. "What's this guy's name? Do you know it?"
He nodded. "They call him Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head."
She hummed in acknowledgment. "One more question, if you don't mind."
"Go for it."
"What do you wear when you work for these guys? Is there a uniform or something?"
He nodded. "Yeah, it's different for every person, but we wear a cloak and mask."
"What does the mask look like?" she asked.
That was a very specific question. "Um…it's cloth and wraps around your face. It covers everything below your nose. The hood covers the rest. Why?"
She shook her head, her wild curls tickling his neck as she moved. "Just curious. If I see a guy in a cloak and a mask running across the rooftops, I'll know it's you."
"Don't blow my cover," Bruce teased.
She scoffed. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He smiled and put his arm around her, again, content to sit there until the sun rose over the horizon. Everything he'd needed to say had been said, and it'd turned out better than he could've ever hoped for. Things were looking up.
Selina, on the other hand, had had one of her many questions answered, but it only led to more questions. One thing was for sure: whoever had kidnapped her a week ago wasn't Bruce.
So who the hell could it have been?
A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this one out, but I wanted to take my time and get it right. I hope you don't mind the changes I made to the confession scene, but I felt like it was so freakin' obvious that he liked her and vice versa that even Selina wouldn't have been able to take him seriously in that moment.
Also, I'd like to point out that Jack's role in this story is about to skyrocket. The chapter after the next one is the Jack-centric chapter I've been talking about and, let me tell you, it's gonna be one wild ride. And if you haven't figured it out already, which I'm sure you all have but I'm gonna say it anyways, Jack is my Joker in this universe. I'm not like the Gotham writers because, A: they get paid, and B: I don't have to work within legal constraints which means I can do whatever the hell I want to.
This chapter is one of the most important ones of the whole series as it concludes the first BatCat romance arc from the first 37 chapters, as well as kicking off the plot for the rest of the series. So if you enjoyed or have any comments/questions/concerns, please make sure to Review! Your feedback is what I write for, after all. Thanks for reading and ciao for now!