13-18

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

By early the next week Selina Kyle was back to her old self. The cuts had healed, and the faint bruises that still remained were carefully concealed with makeup. And to judge by her demeanour as she cheerfully recounted her adventures to Bruce across the luncheon table, her psychological scars seemed to be healing rapidly, also.

"I even got a personal apology from the commissioner of police, can you believe it? Of course, I'm sure Barbara was behind it, but it was still very satisfying. He didn't quite know what to think when I told him Bullock should be the one to apologise, for harassing my secretary. But he cheered up when I told him I was thinking of becoming a professional crimefighter — said they need all the help they can get."

"The more the merrier, eh?" grinned Bruce.

Selina laughed. "Something like that, I guess."

"So, how's the investigation going? They still haven't found the CopyCat yet?" he asked, as if he wasn't spending a large portion of his nights trying to track down the woman who now seemed to have disappeared as suddenly and mysteriously as she had appeared.

She sighed. "No. No leads at all. Even Red Claw claims not to know who she is — and I believe her; she'd sell out her own mother just to ensure she doesn't go down alone. Apparently this woman is just someone with her own score to settle, so it was expedient for them to join forces to get rid of me. But I can't figure out who I might have crossed badly enough to warrant all that."

Selina lapsed into a brooding silence and concentrated on her salad. Bruce, respecting her privacy, didn't try to intrude. Finally, her good humour returning, she shrugged.

"Well, at least I can't say it was all bad. I did get something out of it."

Bruce raised his eyebrows questioningly, half-expecting her to mention her reconciliation with Batman, but hoping she wouldn't.

But she had something else in mind. "After all, I did get another trained cat out of the deal. You certainly can't blame him for the company he was keeping, and he'll make a wonderful mate for Isis if I ever decide to breed her."

"What'd you name him? No, wait — let me guess. Osiris, right?"

Selina gave a husky laugh. "Very good. You know your Egyptian mythology, I see."

"Only a little," he admitted. "Mostly I know you. I figured since most of your cats have Egyptian names, you'd have to name this one after the god who was married to Isis."

She laughed. "I guess you could say I approve of the way the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats."

Bruce smiled indulgently. "Like you."

Her expression grew serious. "Perhaps. I'll admit I like most cats better than most people. They don't let you down, the way people do."

She grimaced, as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. "That's one thing about something like this happening: you certainly find out who your real friends are. Almost everyone I know assumed I was guilty, no matter what I said. Even Batman, and he of all people should know what it feels like to have everyone turn against you for something you didn't even do!"

Since he did know very well, Bruce stared down at his plate feeling about two inches tall. It was amazing how she could twist the knife in his gut without even knowing it was there.

Completely unconscious of the effect her words were having on his guilty conscience, Selina continued to make it even worse. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for a few loyal friends who stood by me. It's nice to know there are a few people who never doubted me, like Maven and Barbara. And you, of course," she added with a warm smile.

One look at his face told her everything. Her smile faded, to be replaced by an expression he had hoped never to have to see again: the same hurt, angry look of stunned disbelief Batman had seen that night on the rooftop when he told her he wasn't convinced she was innocent.

"No," she said in a wounded voice. "Oh, Bruce...not you, too?"

"Selina, I don't know what to say," he told her. Anything but "I'm sorry"; it seemed all he ever did these days was apologise to her.

She shook her head. "Don't say anything," she answered, getting up to leave.

She was very surprised to discover that for some reason, his lack of faith in her hurt even more than Batman's. Somehow she almost expected him to doubt her, but it was different with Bruce. Ever since the night they met he had behaved as if he thought she was the next best thing to perfect, and it was a shock to find that the pedestal, however unwanted it might be, wasn't quite as steady as she had assumed.

Bruce watched her leave, then, hurriedly throwing a few bills on the table to cover the check (much more than adequately), he got up to follow her.

He caught up with her outside the restaurant, as she stood waiting for a cab. Taking hold of her wrist, he said gently, "Selina, please. Let me explain."

A taxi appeared at that moment, and she hesitated as it pulled to the curb. The driver looked at her expectantly, but she shook her head no, waving him on.

"All right," she told Bruce. Since the restaurant didn't offer valet parking, they began the three-block walk to his car.

"It was quite a shock to find out you were a cat burglar when we met," he began. "And since then I've never known quite what to expect from you. But that's okay; it makes for a very interesting friendship to say the least."

Selina smiled at him, already starting to forgive him. "You're not exactly as predictable as I first thought, either."

They reached the Cord, and Bruce stood leaning his weight against the passenger door, not looking at Selina. He gave no sign of having even heard the interruption.

"That was a minor shock to the system. Especially compared to what happened last year. I mean, we barely knew each other at the time, and all you did was play Robin Hood for the mountain lions. But, um, I thought I knew everything about Andrea. Everything she thought, everything she felt. Only the one thing I didn't know was that she was an assassin."

Selina leaned against the car, too. She had no idea how to respond, so she merely touched his hand in a gesture of sympathy. His fingers closed around hers, and he turned to face her.

"Sometimes I really don't know what to believe about anyone anymore," he said candidly.

Recovering himself, he opened the door for her. As he walked around to his own side, Selina said quietly to herself, "Sometimes I don't know what to think about some people, either."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AUGUST

Charity balls were one of the great mainstays of Gotham high society, and the annual benefit for the various Animal Rights groups was one of the most popular, largely because it was a masquerade.

Everyone who was anyone was there. Meaning, of course, all the most deplorable stuffed-shirts and dippy heiresses in town. Typically, there were an offensively large number of alligator purses in the room, but fortunately the warm weather deterred the more tactless socialites from appearing in fur coats. Needless to say, the scheduling of the ball for late August was far from coincidental.

The guest list also included the senior members of all the different animal welfare societies. Selina was there representing her group, the Animal Rights Action League. Fanatical without being militant, the League was one of the most successful in the country. Admittedly part of their success was due to Catwoman's notoriety, but good leadership and excellent business acumen played a large part, too.

Their prosperity allowed them to devote untold thousands of dollars to their cause, and still have enough to pay their senior staff members very good salaries. Technically, Selina Kyle was a consultant rather than an employee, but her exceptional business skills allowed her to turn fairly large consulting fees into a small fortune.

Selina threaded her way through the crowded ballroom of the Gotham Plaza Hotel, conscious of the admiring stares she drew in her black strapless evening gown and black-sequined cat mask. She spoke to a few people, politely since she was trying to raise money, but she wasn't really interested in anything they had to say.

Finally, as she neared the bar, she spotted welcome relief. "Excuse me," she said to the long-winded businessman who was currently trying to monopolize her company. "This really is fascinating, but I see someone I simply must talk to."

"I understand. Maybe I'll run into you again later."

Not if I can help it, she thought.

Making her way to the bar, she collapsed against it and sighed with disgust. She took off the mask and made a face at the tall, burly man who stood next to her in an impeccable tuxedo and bear mask.

"Tell me something, Bruce. This is the world you grew up in, so how did you ever manage to avoid turning out like the rest of these bozos?"

He chuckled. "Actually, I understand it's the subject of some debate as to whether I did or not. And by the way, how'd you know it was me?"

Selina winked at him. "I know you too well, my friend. You can't hide from me no matter what mask you put on."

Bruce coughed, glad the papier-mâché mask kept her from seeing his face just at that moment.

"So, you want to go get some air?" he asked, when he trusted himself to speak.

"I thought you'd never ask. Let's get out of here!"

Selina turned and made for the terrace doors, but Bruce lingered for a moment. He reached behind his head to untie the string, then stood staring ironically at the bear mask in his hands. In a sudden fit of irritation he hurled the thing to the floor and crushed it to powder beneath his heel before following Selina outside.

She stood next to a high hedge, twirling her sequined mask on it its string. Bruce watched, enchanted, as the light of the full moon worked its magic on her face and hair.

Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up with a questioning smile.

"You look more beautiful than I've ever seen you," he said huskily. He crossed to her, taking one of her black-gloved hands in both of his as he looked down into her face. "No one here tonight can even come close."

Gently, Selina pulled away. "Why, Bruce, how sweet. Thank you," she said casually.

Privately, his words and the look in his eyes filled her with dread. She remembered how it had been when they first met. In spite of a decidedly unfavourable first impression, she had quickly learned to like him very much...but that's all. Unfortunately, that hadn't been all there was to it for him. He had seemingly worshipped her like a goddess, which was admittedly flattering, but disconcerting and uncomfortable enough to make her avoid his company as much as possible.

Now it seemed as if history was beginning to repeat itself. The last thing Selina wanted was to lose his friendship, which had become surprisingly important to her over the last few months, but she wasn't sure she could go through that again. Especially now, when things were finally getting back on track with Batman, just like she had always wanted.

And yet, she had seen a completely new side to Bruce since that unfortunate affair with his old girlfriend. Much of his flippant, eternally cheerful facade had crumbled, and he let her get an occasional glimpse of the real Bruce Wayne. She liked what she saw.

Her reaction to his compliment wasn't exactly encouraging, but he felt he had to try, anyway. "Selina, I — " he began.

"Oh, Brucie — there you are!" an arch voice interrupted. "I've been looking all over for the two of you. I might have known I'd find you out here having a romantic assignation by moonlight!"

"That's very amusing, Ronnie," Bruce told the newcomer with a laugh, although the glint in his eye suggested he didn't find it particularly funny.

Veronica Vreeland had been described as the debutante from hell. She was a spoiled, auburn-haired beauty with a large trust fund, and most people said what she lacked in brains, she utterly failed to make up for in personality. There was more than a little truth in that, but she did have a few redeeming qualities. For one thing, she was one of the few real friends Bruce had. It was Veronica who comforted him every time he got his heart broken by some woman he'd talked himself into believing he loved after two weeks. And it was Veronica who knew him well enough to understand that with Selina it was the real thing.

"Bruce, you should be ashamed of yourself, monopolizing Selina like this. Why, she's the hit of the party! A real local celebrity."

Veronica was a great one for believing infamous guests were perfect for livening up dull parties. This was the same woman who once dated the Penguin in hopes he would prove amusing to her high-society guests. She had paid the price for that piece of stupidity, but obviously she hadn't learned from it.

"You know," she told Selina in an aggrieved tone, "I was really disappointed when you turned out to be innocent. I mean, I thought I'd been robbed by the famous Catwoman. It's kind of a kick to have one's jewels stolen by a real celebrity, but being robbed by just an ordinary thief is such a bore. Especially dealing with the insurance companies and all that pesky nonsense. Ho hum."

Selina greeted this with a slight curl of the lip. "Terribly sorry to have disappointed you, Miss Vreeland. Next time I get kidnapped and framed for a crime I didn't commit, I'll be sure and take that up with my captors."

Bruce laughed, relishing the effectiveness of the put-down. "You know, Ronnie," he said in mock-seriousness, "you should find it comforting to know that the CopyCat was in the employ of the world's most ruthless terrorist leaders."

"Well, there is some consolation in that," she allowed. "But couldn't you have at least worn your Catwoman mask instead of that one?"

"The invitation said 'Selina Kyle'; Catwoman wasn't invited," Selina answered sweetly. Running her hand along the length of one of the black, shoulder-high gloves she wore, she added, "Besides, I already had to borrow part of her outfit."

As if to prove her point, she unsheathed the claws in the right glove.

"My goodness, those things look sharp enough to slit someone's throat!" gasped Veronica.

Selina studied her talons, considering. "Hmmm. I don't know if they would or not. Shall we try it and find out?"

Veronica disappeared quickly, and Bruce laughed, "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

"Well, it got rid of her, didn't it?"

Later that night, Selina sat at her dressing table, attended by the faithful Maven.

"Did everything go all right at the party?" asked Maven.

"Personally or professionally? Professionally things went very well. I'd say this was one of our more successful fund-raisers."

"But not so good personally, huh?"

Selina made a face at her reflection in the mirror. "Good and bad, I suppose. On the one hand, you know how I feel about these society parasites. But on the other hand, Bruce was there, so at least there was one person whose company I actually enjoy. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling him that, and, um, let's just say he misread my signals, I guess."

"He loves you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm afraid it's beginning to look that way. And I wish he didn't."

Maven shook her head, wondering, not for the first time, about her friend's lack of judgment. "Why? Selina, do you realise how many women would give anything to have a handsome billionaire who's crazy about her?"

Selina looked at her solemnly. "Yes, Maven, I know. But it's just not that simple. I really care about Bruce, and I don't want to hurt him like that Beaumont woman did," she said earnestly. "But I can't feel the way he seems to want me to, and if he tries to force me to, we'll both end up getting hurt. Again."

She disappeared behind her folding screen.

"Pity," Maven said softly. "I think you'd be good for each other."

"Maven!"

Selina re-emerged, costumed. Adjusting the mask, she told her secretary, "It's late. Stop matchmaking and go home. I'll see you in the morning."

Maven closed the French windows behind her, then sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pet a couple of the sleeping cats. "You know what?" she asked them. "I think he's really getting under her skin. That's why she's gone running off to find Batman."

Bastet raised her tawny head and blinked at her sleepily, but the others paid no attention.

"Working alone tonight?"

He lowered his binoculars, turning to regard her. He'd had a feeling she would show up.

"Apparently not," he answered, but his tone was welcoming. "Why aren't you at your fund-raiser?"

She gestured toward the street below, the area known as Crime Alley. "You meet a better class of people here," she explained.

He picked up the binoculars, made another scan of the building across the street. There were rumours of a major drug deal coming down here, so he had to keep a close eye on the place. For the moment, however, he had time to talk to her and flirt a little bit.

"Wasn't there...anyone there you like?" he asked leadingly.

"Well," she teased. "There was one person. As a matter of fact I spent most of the evening with another man."

"Anyone I know?"

"Bruce Wayne."

Batman had his back to her, so she couldn't see him grin. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might be better off with him than you would with me?" he asked in an exaggeratedly casual voice.

"I know I would," laughed Catwoman. Then she turned serious and added, "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to stop seeing so much of him."

He was filled with dismay as she repeated an edited version of the same story she had told Maven, designed to pique his jealousy without revealing how much she really did care for Bruce.

"I'm just not sure I can deal with this pushy infatuation again, no matter how much I like him."

Batman said nothing, grateful for the unconscious warning.

She stared at his back, struck by a sudden parallel. Just as she had never been able to stand it when Bruce pushed her, the same thing happened in reverse with Batman, she realised. They flirted, and had a good time together, but whenever she pressed him, he gave her just a tiny bit of hope and then retreated.

Nothing had essentially changed; he still hadn't acted on the declaration of his feelings for her, and their relationship had gone back to pretty much the same way it had been during the first months they knew each other.

She had never been one for the afternoon talk shows and their discussions of fear of commitment, but somewhere deep inside she was beginning to wonder if he might not have been right a few months ago when he said the two of them were too independent for each other. She wondered if he would ever really be able to share himself with her or anyone else. And, deep down, she found herself wondering if she really even wanted him to.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SEPTEMBER

It was a Saturday afternoon in late September. Bruce was almost in the living room when the doorbell rang, so he answered it himself to save Alfred a trip.

He was glad he did. Selina stood on the threshold, and as he invited her in, saying what a pleasant surprise it was, he realised he had never seen her wear jeans and a sweater before. He had also never seen any woman manage to look so elegant in such simple attire. But he didn't mention it. Being careful about not pushing his feelings on her had paid off, and the two of them were still on exceptionally good terms.

"Hi. I'm sorry to barge in unannounced, but I could really use a friend right now."

"You've got one," he assured her.

"I had to talk to someone. I usually dump all my problems on Maven, but this time she's the problem."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, surprised. He didn't pretend to understand that particular relationship — Maven was a subordinate, but not a servant; a close friend and confidante, but not a buddy — but he was aware of the strong bond between the two women.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked with concern.

"She's getting married."

He looked bewildered. "That's a problem?"

Selina showed him a rueful grin. "Not in itself," she admitted. "The problem is her fiancé is thinking about moving out of state to find work. And if that happens, I'll lose not only the ideal secretary and companion, but also a very good friend."

Bruce nodded sympathetically. "That is a problem. What line of work is he in?"

"He was an engineer with Northstar Technologies until they went under."

"Bad business, that. I warned Guy North not to go with that management consulting firm in Illinois. Too much in-fighting. But if that's what the problem is, I think there may be an opening at Waynetech soon for a qualified engineer."

Selina shook her head. "He wouldn't go for it. Tim is one of these proud types who won't accept any kind of favour."

"It could only be called a favour if I were offering him a guarantee of a job, and I'm not. It's just a chance, for your sake if nothing else."

"Thanks, Bruce."

He smiled. "Any time. Aside from that, what do you think of the guy?"

She considered. "Well, he's definitely not good enough for Maven, but he has his good points, I suppose. He likes her, and he likes cats."

Bruce laughed. "I'm sure in your book no one who likes cats can be all bad."

"That depends on how he likes them," she said darkly, and he wondered if she were thinking about the mad Dr. Dorian.

Changing the subject, he suggested, "How about having some coffee in the den? I'd like to show you some plans I've been working on for the Wayne Charities Fund."

"Fine," she agreed.

When Alfred brought the coffee, he found the two of them with their heads together over a stack of papers. He smiled. Crimefighting and business. They're an ideal match, he thought. If only they don't manage to make a mess of it between the pair of them.

Strangely enough, within two weeks Bruce came very close to doing just that. One of the more significant women in his life appeared in Gotham, asking for his help. Good sense flew out the window, and he was off with her to Europe, where he found himself pondering his relationship with her. There were major problems: Alfred disapproved of her, Dick flat-out disliked her, and her primary loyalty was to her genocidal madman of a father. But Bruce had never doubted that she was genuinely in love with him, and he wondered if he was capable of returning her feelings.

The answer was no. One midnight phone call to Selina settled the question once and for all, leaving his companion hurt and Bruce wondering why any two people couldn't seem to feel the same emotion at the same time.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

NOVEMBER

Thanksgiving at Wayne Manor was traditionally a rather somber affair in spite of the opulence. Most of the people Bruce liked enough to invite preferred to spend the holiday with their families, so it generally ended up being just Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, and sometimes Leslie Thompkins if she could tear herself away from her patients.

But this year was different. Selina had agreed to dine with them (it was a rather unexpected contrast to last Thanksgiving, when she had declined his invitation politely but firmly, at which point he had decided there was no hope of his ever having the sort of relationship he wanted with her), and at her suggestion he had also asked James and Barbara Gordon, and Sarah Essen Miller.

The dinner party had been fairly successful, if rather uncomfortable on occasion. Barbara seemed disturbed by her father's obviously growing feelings for Sarah, and wasn't quite her usual bubbly self. She was warming a bit toward her dad's girlfriend, but the idea of spending the holiday watching the two of them get cozy didn't exactly appeal to her, so the invitation to spend the day with good friends like Dick and Selina was like a godsend. Gordon, however, didn't quite agree. He had accepted the invitation only after considerable urging from his daughter, and he felt out of his depth socialising with this crowd.

And the deputy commissioner made everyone a bit nervous with her constant scrutiny of the host. Ten years ago, he had been her prime suspect when they were trying to establish Batman's identity, and in spite of evidence to the contrary she obviously hadn't completely given up her theory.

Alfred remarked on the fact later that night as Bruce got ready for his evening rounds.

"Deputy Commissioner Miller seems rather determined to cling to her theory about your identity, doesn't she, sir? With all due respect to Commissioner Gordon, the lady does appear to be rather more...." He hesitated tactfully.

"More intelligent than he is, Alfred? Yes, I'm afraid you're right. Actually, I overheard a conversation tonight about Sarah's intelligence."

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "Eavesdropping, Master Bruce?"

One corner of Batman's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Not deliberately. I was in the library getting a book Leslie wanted to borrow when Selina and Barbara came in. She was upset about finding her father kissing Sarah, so I didn't want to embarrass her by announcing my presence."

"Oh, dear. Trapped like a character in one of those dreadful television soap operas?"

"Something like that. Anyway, Selina told her not to make an enemy of Sarah. Her exact words were, 'She's very smart, little one, and she could nail you without any problem.' Doesn't that seem curious to you, Alfred?"

Alfred sniffed. "The entire friendship between those two strikes me as a bit curious, sir, but I agree the remark was rather cryptic."

"Yes. But I think I have an explanation for both. Something Selina said struck a chord, but I couldn't pin it down at first. Then I remembered what it was: 'little one' is Catwoman's nickname for Batgirl. And Barbara isn't exactly what you would call petite."

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Alfred. "Surely you aren't suggesting...?"

Batman nodded. "I should have figured it out earlier. It makes perfect sense, Alfred. The first time Batgirl put in an appearance was when Commissioner Gordon was in trouble. Catwoman started training Batgirl several months ago — just about the same time Selina and Barbara became friends."

He entered a few commands on the computer keyboard. News clippings and photos of Batgirl began to scrawl across the giant screen. Punching another sequence of keys, Batman created a split-screen effect, featuring a close-up of the young crimefighter on the right side, and a newspaper photo of Barbara Gordon next to her father on the left.

"Their physical descriptions are a perfect match," he pointed out. "And Barbara Gordon is a champion gymnast. I'm surprised I didn't think of it before. But who would believe a devoted father — and a professional detective at that — would fail to recognize his only child even if she were wearing a disguise?"

"It does rather tax the imagination," agreed Alfred.

"I'll have to get recordings of both Batgirl and Barbara so I can do a voice-pattern analysis. Then we'll know for sure."

Alfred smiled as a new thought struck him. "Master Dick should find this information rather intriguing, if I'm not mistaken. He seems rather taken with both the young ladies. Almost a parallel, if you'll pardon my mentioning it, sir."

His employer shot him a sour look. "No. I don't want Dick to know about this, Alfred. I've noticed his attraction to Batgirl, but that's all it is, so there's no point in adding any unnecessary complications at this point. He's too young for that burden."

It was the closest he had come to referring to his own romantic complications in some time, and something in his voice persuaded Alfred not to press the issue.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DECEMBER

"Nice wedding."

"I guess," said Selina, as she switched on the light.

Bruce followed her into the apartment, loosening his tie. "You know, I never realised that Maven was so...attractive. They say all brides are beautiful, but believe me, I've been to enough society weddings to know that's not true."

Selina laughed tiredly. "Well, Maven can be quite pretty when she wants to be, but she's not comfortable being the glamour girl type. She'd rather people like her for who she is. She doesn't have to pretend like the rest of us." She handed him a drink, then poured one for herself.

Isis hopped into Bruce's lap and settled herself with a loud purr. He laughed, stroking the soft, steel-grey fur.

Selina smiled. "Isis doesn't usually like men very well, but she's always seemed to like you for some reason. The only other man I've ever known her take to like that is Batman."

"Really," Bruce said innocently. As he looked down into the yellow-green eyes, he reflected that it was a good thing for him the cat couldn't talk, Selina's claims to the contrary notwithstanding. He knew quite well why Isis liked him. She knew his secret.

"Yes. Some cats — Ramses! What have you got?" She started after the larger of her two beige cats, kicking off her high heels as she went. Retrieving a small, flat package from the cat's jaws, she crossed to the couch and dropped down lightly next to Bruce. "Would you believe it? He's taken to stealing my mail lately!"

He watched her carefully split open the tape on the outer wrappings with a fingernail. "What's that?" he asked.

"I don't know. Early Christmas present? There's no return address. Oh, no!"

The wrappings fell away to reveal a neatly-wrapped inner package decorated with familiar red and black diamond shapes. Selina ripped off the paper and held up the book by one corner, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"'101 Uses for a Dead Cat'! Isn't that charming? I really hate that woman."

"Who?" asked Bruce, although he knew perfectly well.

"Harley Quinn! Best known as the Joker's girlfriend, but she's quite a little sociopath in her own right. She and I have had a running feud going for some time now, so this isn't exactly an isolated incident. Well, I know what to do with this." She ripped the pages out of the book and hurled them into the fireplace. Tossing a match on top, she growled, "I only wish I could do the same to her."

Bruce cleared his throat. Figuring it might be a good time to change the subject, he said in a cheerful tone, "I understand there's going to be another wedding soon. Jim Gordon's planning to marry Sarah on Valentine's Day. How's Barbara taking the news?"

Selina shrugged. "About the way you might expect. She's ambiguous. She's not wild about the thought of living with Sarah, but she's overjoyed to see her father so happy."

"Sounds a little like your reaction to Maven and Tim," he observed shrewdly.

She nodded shortly, obviously not wanting to discuss it. "Maybe. You know, Sarah's even getting to keep her job after they get married. There's supposed to be a rule about no fraternization, but the mayor made a special exception or something in this case. I don't really know the details. Well, it's nice to know things work out right for some people, anyway."

Bruce watched her pace the room, worried by the tired, defeated tone he heard in her voice. When she stopped to freshen her drink, he put the cat down and went to her. He stood behind her, massaging her shoulders gently. "Selina," he said quietly. "Don't give up on the idea of your own happy ending. I haven't, in spite of everything."

"I didn't think you believed in happy endings...or happy anything, for that matter." She wondered how he could manage to be so enthusiastic over Gordon's engagement. The whole situation was like a dramatic illustration of what could have happened for him, but hadn't.

He shrugged. "Well, the idea's appealing. That's why, um.... Look, there's something I've been needing to ask you for a long time."

Wonderful, she thought. He'd been thinking about her, not his old girlfriend. An absolutely perfect ending to a lovely day. "If you have to," she sighed.

"If circumstances had been different when we met — for instance, if you hadn't fallen for Batman, and if I hadn't made such a nuisance of myself, well..." he faltered. He knew he was doing it again, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had to know. "Is there even a possibility that you might have been able to love me?"

Selina hesitated, not sure how to answer. Finally she decided to be honest with him. "Yes," she answered softly, hoping he wouldn't misinterpret her words. "Very easily, I'm afraid."

Her tone of voice, discouraging to say the least, took some of the edge off his elation, so he was able to ask in a restrained voice, "Why are you sorry about that?"

"Because circumstances aren't different, Bruce," she told him sadly. "And they're not likely to be different, so we might as well stop thinking about 'what ifs'."

"I see," he said flatly, disgusted with himself for persisting in spite of the obvious NO TRESPASSING signs. "I'm sorry I even brought it up. Bad timing. I should have known it's been a stressful day for you and it's not a good time to clear the air. I'll go."

Selina nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Bruce, wait—" she added, touching his sleeve. He turned to look at her, wishing the concern he saw in her eyes was something more. "No hard feelings, okay? It's not you, it's me. Look, why don't you come over for dinner some night next week, and we won't talk about it."

"Sure," he agreed, with a pretense at geniality. "Well, uh, if you'll excuse me, I have to go kick myself now."

She laughed with him, glad her friend didn't seem too much the worse for wear. Locking the door behind him, she turned to find Isis regarding her with the silent stare cats use to inspire paranoia and self-consciousness in humans. It worked.

"Don't give me that look," Selina told her. "You're as bad as Maven. I am not lying to myself. I hope."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dinner the next week was not exactly a complete success, either. Selina was nervous and touchy, and Bruce was finding it harder and harder to play by the rules. He was becoming obsessed with her.

Naturally enough, Selina didn't care much for the idea of being an obsession. She was starting to get the closed-in, panicky feeling that had gripped her the day she ended things between them so many months ago. She found herself constantly fighting the urge to do the same thing now, stayed only by the unwelcome knowledge that if his loss was painful then, it would be unbearable now.

She needed time away from him, time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. So she cancelled all her business appointments through the first of the year, packed up Isis and headed home for Christmas, hoping to get lost for awhile in the noise and confusion of a large extended family.

The Kyles had moved to Chicago when Selina was fourteen. It was a world away from the wildlife preserve her father had headed for more than twenty years, but she had adapted extremely well, eventually turning from a wild tomboy to a polished, city-wise lady.

She loved her hometown, but it wasn't quite big enough for her needs, and she couldn't stand being close to that much family all the time. Gotham was a much better choice, bigger, surrounded by wild areas, and uniquely suited to her eccentricities. Nevertheless, it always felt good to come back.

The new sign was the first thing she noticed. The pet shop must be doing well, she thought. Hardly surprising. Selina was an incredible businesswoman, and she had inherited the talent from her mother. But she'd always hated the name her parents had given the shop: Kyle's Critters. It absolutely reeked of appalling cuteness.

She looked around the business with approval as she opened the door. Large, floor-to-ceiling, multi-level cages for the kittens, allowing them to play together, and shorter, wider cages that let the puppies at least have a small place to run. The main difference, though, between this and other pet shops was the policy toward prospective buyers. Selina grinned as she saw her mother engaged even now in giving a couple and their young son her "test", determining if they were suitable prospects for that Christmas puppy, or if they would be sent on their way to look elsewhere. The fact the store made any money at all was testament to her mother's business skills.

Fifteen minutes later, having proven themselves, the family walked out with a new beagle. "Congratulations. She's a tough cookie," Selina told them as they left.

"It takes one to know one!" her mother called from behind the counter, putting away the last of the paperwork. Selina smiled as she watched her work. Carolyn Kyle, known to most people as C.K. or simply Kay, was a tall, energetic blonde in her late fifties. She was very attractive, even if she wasn't as stunning as her daughters. Then again, there's no way the elegant Selina or prim and proper Magdalene could have gotten away with wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a picture of the Titanic hitting the iceberg, emblazoned with the words, "Ship Happens."

She came around the divider to give her daughter a quick hug. Then she stepped back and touched Selina's face, shaking her head in disapproval. "Mm mmm," she murmured. "You look terrible. What have you been doing to yourself this time?"

Selina stepped out of her reach. "Thank you for the compliment, Mama! But I'm fine, really," she told her with a sigh.

"You don't look fine," Kay told her sternly. "I worry about you in that city full of lunatics."

"Don't worry; I'm one of the lunatics now," Selina said lightly. risking another one of her mother's If you'd never moved to Gotham you never would have gotten into all that trouble speeches.

But all she said this time was, "Don't remind me." Unfortunately she had to add, "So, when am I going to meet this young man Maggie told me about? He sounds very nice."

Selina winced visibly. There was one topic of conversation she hated worse than the anti-Gotham argument, and that was the You should get married and have a family speech she'd been hearing constantly for the last ten years. "Do you need any help cleaning out the cages before you close up?" she asked impatiently, hoping her attempt to change the subject would work this time.

"Oh, so that's how it is, hmm?" her mother said quietly.

By Christmas night, Selina was coming to the conclusion that, given a choice between most of her family and the "freaks and weirdos" in Gotham City, she'd take the crazies any day. She and her mother, brother and sister had finally managed to escape (as she viewed it) from the horde of aunts, uncles, and cousins, most of whom Selina didn't like, and a large number she didn't even remember.

People! she thought. Give me cats any time. They make more sense.

She was irritable and moody, and all the Christmas cheer wasn't helping. Several times during the party, she had walked into a group of people who either stopped talking when she joined them, or changed the subject abruptly. Her brother informed her she was paranoid, and they had gotten into another of their battles on the ride back to their mother's apartment. Now they sat as far apart as they could manage, pointedly ignoring each other.

"I don't think you're paranoid," Maggie said soothingly. "But you could be making too much out of this. I don't think anyone has any reason to say something bad about you."

"I don't care if it's bad or good, but I want it said to my face. Is that too much to ask? The idiot socialites in Gotham have better manners."

"They were probably stunned by your new brooch and didn't know how to bring it up," her mother told her. "We don't often see something that...expensive. Your friend must really think a lot of you to give you something like that."

When Selina had decided to make the trip, Bruce had offered her the use of his plane, calling it his Christmas present to her. She accepted it on those terms, but when she boarded she had found another gift waiting for her: an antique cat brooch, art deco in style, made of 18-karat gold with emerald eyes and a ruby collar. It was spectacular and she loved it, but she couldn't help feeling annoyed with Bruce for putting her in the uncomfortable position of arousing speculation when she wore it.

"The expense is nothing to Bruce. He probably spends more money than that on duty gifts to people he doesn't like."

Maggie smiled at her protests. "Maybe so, but they're probably not as carefully chosen as this one," she pointed out.

Selina snorted. "I'm called Catwoman, I have eight cats, and my work deals with animal rights. How tough is it to figure out that a cat brooch is probably a good choice? For all I know Alfred could have picked it out," she objected, although she knew it wasn't true. "And it's no one's business how much it cost or where I got it."

Her brother M.J. looked over at her and grinned, lighting a cigarette. He was ordinarily a pretty nice person, but the temptation to needle his younger sister was just too much for him to resist. The two of them had never gotten along, and now every time their paths crossed there was guaranteed to be trouble. They brought out the very worst in each other.

"They were probably just wondering where you stole it," he laughed.

Selina exploded. "That's it! I've had just about enough of you for one night. Actually, I've had more than enough of you for an entire lifetime. You're rude, obnoxious — "

"No more so than you," he shrugged.

Maggie sighed and exchanged a weary glance with her mother as they started off on another round, going through everything from Selina's motives for coming here to an attack on M.J.'s smoking in front of her cat.

When the telephone rang threw up her hands in an expansive gesture and exclaimed, "Saved by the bell!" She answered, then had to call Selina twice before she could get her attention away from the fight. "It's your friend Bruce. You can use the extension if you want privacy."

"Good idea," said Selina, giving her brother one last venomous look as she disappeared into the bedroom. But her voice sounded lighter, and her eyes had a definite sparkle that probably wasn't due to anger this time.

turned to her other children with a grin. "They're just friends, you know," she deadpanned. Maggie giggled.

When she got off the phone, at least thirty minutes later, her mood had improved drastically. She said "good riddance" when she learned M.J. had gone home, but there was no acid left in her tone.

"You and Bruce must have a lot in common to talk so long," Maggie said leadingly.

"Just exchanging good wishes, catching up on the latest gossip. You know."

"No, but we can guess," teased Maggie. "He had a wonderful time, but it just wasn't right without you there to share it. Hmm?"

Selina scowled at her. "Stop matchmaking. That's Maven's job."

"I know, but the poor girl's overworked. I just thought I'd help out while she's on her honeymoon."

"Well, you can help out a lot if you stop talking about Bruce Wayne all the time. I came here to get away from him. Can't you understand that?"

Her mother nodded and put a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I understand," she said. Then she added playfully, "Oh, boy, do I understand!"

"Hi, Dad. Sorry about the flowers — they were Aunt Marie's centerpiece. First thing I've stolen in years. What a comedown, huh?"

She laid the flowers on the grave and looked around the dark cemetery, feeling slightly foolish. Selina had never been one for talking to dead people, but Bruce kept insisting it made him feel better, so why not? It wasn't like she expected an answer or anything — those people bugged her. Besides, this wasn't all that different from talking to her father when he was alive. He had never teased or nagged like her mother, just let her talk until she got things worked out for herself.

So, she leaned against the headstone and began to talk out loud to her father, though she was really talking to herself. "I had to get out of there. They're driving me crazy! I should have known better than to come here. Spending the holidays all by myself would have been a lot better than facing the Spanish Inquisition. I can handle solitude. I do solitude very well. I don't need anybody!"

She laughed, with a trace of bitterness. "Yeah, that was defensive. Oh, well, after being around those two matchmakers, I have a right to be defensive. If I get involved with anyone, it should be my choice, nobody else's. Though with my track record it should be "just say no" to romance. Let's see, there was that fiasco in college — still suffering third degree burns from that one — and then there's Batman. Oh, yes, the great Dark Knight. Sexy, exciting, mysterious, and tauntingly unavailable. We had fun — at least I did — until it all just fizzled out. I guess maybe it really was the thrill of the chase after all. As soon as he started to let me catch him, I stopped trying to."

Selina sat quietly for a few minutes, reflecting on the way her relationship with Batman had deteriorated over the last few months. It had all looked so hopeful for awhile, like they really could find a place for each other without the masks. She wasn't sure what happened, or why, but they had both suddenly given up and gone their separate ways. Since then, neither of them had shown any interest in renewing their association. She couldn't know that he was now putting all his efforts into wooing her as Bruce Wayne, and the last thing she could do was admit to herself that maybe her best friend was starting to become more to her than just a friend.

She smiled to herself as she thought of Bruce, then immediately wiped the expression off her face. There was no one here to see it, but she was feeling paranoid after all the teasing she had endured from her family.

"No happy ending in sight, I'm afraid. I'm stuck with a love affair that's turned into a friendship, and a friendship that everyone in the world keeps trying to turn into a love affair. I don't even know how to be in love. I don't have the knack you and Mama had." Her parents had had an absurdly perfect marriage, beginning when they were teenagers.

Unfortunately, none of their children had been able to find that for themselves, and Selina for one refused to believe it existed. They had been best friends, lovers, and co-workers, and even their fights had been a source of great pleasure to both of them. How could she hope to find that in one person? She enjoyed fighting with Batman, playing mind games with him, but real intimacy was out of the question. And with Bruce she had the companionship and trust, but she always backed away from a battle, not trusting their friendship to something as unpredictable as her temper.

"This isn't working, is it, Dad? I hate this. I don't know which way to go, and I'm not going to let anyone push me. I wish you were here to give me advice...not that I'd take it, of course. You'd take one look at Bruce and the way he looks at me and tell me to grab him. Well, what if I don't want him?" A panicked expression came over her face as she let herself finally think the unthinkable. "Or worse yet, what if I do?"

*****

The holiday traveling season was over by the second week in January, but even so the Gotham airport was crowded.

She saw him before he saw her, and although she'd had a feeling he would meet her flight, she wasn't prepared for the effect that seeing him would have on her. Her heart started racing, and she felt herself begin to tingle all over. I've missed him! she realised. She made one half-hearted attempt to tell herself that she'd also missed Maven, and Barbara, but the instant Bruce turned and smiled at her she realised it wouldn't wash. They might be good friends, but they didn't make her heart beat 100 miles an hour.

"You didn't have to come," Selina told him.

"Oh, I needed to speak to my pilot anyway," replied Bruce, trying to sound offhanded.

"Did you really?"

"No." He reached for her hand and then drew back, unsure of her reaction. "I hoped I could persuade you to let me take you to dinner. If you're not too tired, that is."

Selina started to say something, then changed her mind and lifted the cat carrier. "I have to take Isis home," she said apologetically. "And see the rest of the cats, of course. I'm sure Barbara took good care of them for me, but you know how it is with pets."

Bruce nodded slowly. "I understand." He'd never had a pet, but he got the point. She'd left town to get away from him and she still didn't want to see him.

"We could order in...if you want," she offered suddenly.

They barely spoke on the ride home, both lost in their own thoughts. I'm tired of running away, thought Selina. It's never been my style. I'm stronger than this. She looked over at him, realising suddenly that she wasn't panicking. It felt good to be with him.

The feeling of elation stayed with her for the rest of the evening, even when Bruce left unexpectedly, making some excuse about business and having forgotten something very important.

She wandered around the room for awhile, thinking about how drastically things had changed for both of them in the last year, wondering if she really had the courage to go forward in spite of the risks, and thinking for the first time that maybe she did. Absently, she picked up a fortune cookie from the remains of their Chinese take-out and broke it open. She read it twice and burst out laughing, attracting curious stares from all the cats.

"An unpleasant situation will resolve itself, with unexpected rewards."

Selina whirled around the room, laughing at the delicious irony of the message. She had another good laugh when she glanced out the window, catching sight of the Bat signal just before it went out. "Well, at least that's one thing that's resolved itself," she told the cats. They just continued to stare at her.