Title: Coffee Break: Julienne Fries
Characters: Selina Kyle, Dinah Lance, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne, Slam Bradley, Holly Robinson, Alleytown Kids, Several Cats, the Kitchen Sink.
Summary: Sunday Morning Breakfast, with fries.
Warning: Might be a parody.
Spoilers: Just semi-recent events in general.
Acknowledgement: Livejournal user "faithofborg" beta-read.

Dinah Lance flipped through a women's magazine, that someone had altered through the addition of beards, mustaches, arm-pit hair and missing teeth, while she waited on Barbara Gordon. She picked up a pen from a nearby counter and began adding word balloons.

Barbara sighed dramatically, her face dropped in her hands, away from the computer screen. She mumbled something not terribly nice.

"Did someone die?"

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking. You look upset. We haven't lost someone else, have we?"

"No one's dead." Babs waved at the computer screen. "It's another one."

"I see," Dinah encouraged. She looked at the digital picture. It seemed to be a giant leaf, an entire canopy, underneath a brightly lit sky. "A jungle?"

"Potted plant." The image flickered to another scene.

This one was more difficult. It was dark but rusty bars were visible. The entire area was obscured by bushes or tumbleweeds of some type. Dinah looked at Barbara.

"Underside of a refrigerator."

"Ah." She wasn't quite sure what the tragedy was.

Barbara toggled the screen again and winced. The image jerked around wildly, elements spinning in and out of view, pixelating as the camera struggled to keep pace. Without warning, gigantic teeth appeared from all sides followed by darkness, then more blurred scenery, further obliterated by out of focus drool.

Dinah gasped and covered her face. "Argh! No! Don't eat me!"

"It's. Not. Funny."

"Babs, I hate to break it to you, but your bug just got eaten by a cat."

"I know."

"Using my vast detective skills," Dinah scrunched up her face, "I deduce you are spying on whatshername! That chick who dresses up like a cat."

"Lots of people own cats."

"True. But lots of people didn't see the face you made when Cass told you Bruce has been stopping by you-know-who's apartment. And, I'm not lots of people."

"She's dangerous."

"He's a grown man. I'm sure he knows the risks."

"Oh, yeah, that's why Silver Fox won't talk to him, Vesper's dead, Sasha's part of a covert espionage organization and no one talks about Diana. Because he knows what he's doing."

"He would be touched to know you cared."

"No, he wouldn't. He'd tell me to get out of Gotham."

"That's not fair and you know it. He'd be happy to have you back on his side."

"Then he can damn well tell me in person. In the meantime, Cass," Barbara spoke into her mic. "Yes. I need you to deliver another one." Pause. "They're out of commission." Pause. "Because she lets you into her apartment." Pause. "Thank you."

Barbara smiled. "Go with her."

"You're suspicious of her too?"

"I have a theory."

"Why are we going up the elevator?" Dinah followed Cassandra, both of them out of costume and entering the apartment building like normal people. Granted, it was day instead of night, so perhaps using zip-lines and rooftops was not wise. Still, she had expected Batgirl, version two, to stick to her usual methods.

"Easier."

"Isn't it a bit obvious? Just knocking on her door like that?"

"Obvious, anyway."

Cassandra waved when the door opened, announcing without fanfare, "Guest."

Dinah wasn't sure what she had expected, but it wasn't a somewhat tall woman with hair slicked back from a recent shower, wearing rose colored, silk pajamas. "Catwoman?"

"Canary." Selina raised an eyebrow at Cassandra.

"Oracle said, 'come'."

Selina smiled widely. "Gig's up, huh?"

Cassandra ducked her head, pushing back strands of hair behind an ear.

"It's no big deal. C'mon. I'm working on breakfast."

Dinah followed but slowed, wandering a bit in confusion. There was something not quite kosher about this apartment. It was clean, tidy, full of bright white and pastels. The furniture was organized just-so, energetic paintings (only one of which featured a cat) decorated the walls and there were doilies on the tables. It was, quite possibly, more disturbing than Chesire and her feng-shui.

She looked back at Selina. "Can I call you Martha?" she joked. Humor was the best way she knew how to recover.

A gravely and not too happy, familiar voiced interrupted, directly from behind, "Why are you talking about my mother?"

Dinah spun. "The other Martha," she answered hurriedly.

Bruce Wayne frowned, reminding her of Batman, but only if you dressed him in a teal polo shirt and khakis.

"What other Martha?"

"The one with the TV show." He had shaving cream on his neck.

"Oh."

Selina wiped the white smear off his neck with a napkin. "I think it was meant to be a compliment."

Bruce squinted. "She was charged with fraud."

"That's still a compliment, in my book. You want some breakfast?"

He glanced at Dinah, while accepting a cup of coffee, then towards a wall clock. "It might be best if I left."

"Oh, she's just here with Cass."

"Because?"

"The usual." Selina sat down and held out a hand, palm up.

Cassandra had the grace to look sheepish before dropping the security tracking device, courtesy of Barbara "Oracle" Gordon, into the waiting hand. She looked at Dinah, smiled and shrugged. "Julienne fries," she explained.

Selina examined the bug, turning it in her fingers. "You know," she reached towards Bruce, grabbed his waist-band and dropped the bug down his pants, "I really don't like these."

Bruce slapped down his mug so fast coffee sloshed across the table-cloth, and did a little dance, jamming his hand down his fly.

Too late, Dinah winced and yanked the miniature speakerss disguised as earrings, off her ears. She could still hear a tinny shriek.

Just then, the front door swung open, admitting a posse of children followed by a red-headed woman. "Hey, Selina, I woah-! Sorry to interrupt." The young woman laughed and wove past Bruce, who had frozen in a most regretful pose.

"You did that on purpose," he hissed.

"Oh, no, I waited until we could both hear them down the hall before accidentally doing that." Selina dabbed at the coffee spill, making a 'tsk' noise. "Besides, you just stood there so don't try to blame me."

The swarm, which proved to be merely five children who moved around a lot, didn't seem to notice either the man in the apartment or his identity.

The red-head waggled her fingers at him. "Hi, B." On cue, the children repeated the greeting, in unison.

He grunted, fetching out the electronic bug and placing in on the table. "I'm leaving." True to his word, he grabbed a piece of toast from a pile of assorted varieties, and stalked out of the apartment.

Selina picked up the bug and dropped in his abandoned coffee mug. "Hmph. Men. Only good for one thing and that's only if you run out of batteries."

Dinah gaped. "There are children present," she protested.

"Don't be silly. We just had coffee."

The oldest boy, with shaggy brown hair and a skateboard still in hand, rolled his eyes. "She means sex."

"I know. Fucking," agreed one of the girls.

"Don't like it."

"Me neither. It's gross."

"And boring."

"Hurts," added the another boy in front of the TV, never pausing in his annihilation of computer generated monsters.

"Yeah."

They all looked at Selina and chorused, "Ewwwww."

Dinah swallowed over a sudden lump in her throat, blinking rapidly. She stared at her napkin, picked up her fork, put it back down, turning it over several times. Mentally, she put a voodoo curse on Barbara for sending her into this situation without due preparation. Just make sure Cass plants the bug, no problem. Easy, my ass.

This wasn't right. This was supposed to be Catwoman who wore tight revealing leather, who sidled up to men and made them stutter with her deep-throated murmurs, who lashed her way through fights, leaving behind a trail of sprayed blood, and offered tacitly to kill Lady Shiva with a car bomb. She was not supposed to be sipping a cup of coffee from a daisy painted mug while shepherding small children, grown men and a former assassin.

Selina smiled at her, faintly, those bright eyes glinting, then reached for the sugar bowl. She poured straight from it into her mug. "They're from the streets. They come here every Sunday morning and pretend they're not. Try not to ruin it for them," she warned with deadly politesse.

Dinah opened her mouth to rebuke, to ask why they weren't in group shelters or foster care, but saw Cassandra watching from her peripheral vision. Cassandra stared, without words, never blinking.

"Yes?"

"So, uh, you take care of them?"

"No," Selina chuckled. "I couldn't if I tried. Holly does."

Dinah glanced at the slight woman with orange hair and the ghosts of needle tracks on her arms. Holly's skin was pale and the bruises under her eyes might never go away, but she sprawled comfortably across the couch. An empty plate rested on her stomach. Good appetites and on-going addiction didn't go together.

"Old friends?"

"We were roommates." Selina didn't sound like she would elaborate.

Roommates was a loaded word and Dinah fought back the urge to ask if Holly was a child, a student, a sister or a lover. She didn't ask. She had been raised among people who fostered apprentices on a regular basis and there were rules about what questions could be asked.

Selina never gave her a chance. She rose abruptly, "Cass, Dex, c'mon. You're going to help make breakfast."

An argument broke out over the merits of waffles versus pancakes. Selina silenced them by pronouncing waffles and warning them she wouldn't do twice the work for twice the mess.

Cass went straight to a particular drawer and pulled out a specialty tool designed to cut potatoes into strips. Dex found a pot in a cabinet, fetched a tub of shortening and scooped it into the pot. Meanwhile, Selina sorted out flour, soda, sugar, milk and eggs.

Two cats jumped onto the counter, sitting with their tails tucked around their feet.

Selina looked at them. "No," she said firmly.

One of the cats blew a sigh at her.

"It's still 'no'." She looked at Dinah. "They think I'll give them some eggs and milk. Greedy little bastards." She dragged a blender onto her work surface.

Within fifteen minutes the smells of frying potatoes and steaming waffles filled the apartment. Dinah found herself washing dishes, dodging cats, children and cutlery.

The not-silence was becoming awkward. "You can cook?"

"No, I only pretend to cook and it magically turns into food."

"I didn't say you couldn't. I'm just... surprised."

"My sensei taught me."

"The long lost School of Good Eats?"

"His granddaughter, actually. I think he was a completionist. Believed in well-rounded educations or some shit."

"Sounds like a good teacher."

"Nah. He wanted free housekeeping."

"Oh yeah? Why'd you put up with it?"

Selina glanced at the unoccupied children. "I like to eat well." She cut off the conversation by turning on the blender.

In the end, Dinah worked on a plate full of blueberry topped waffle. It would be rude to leave before eating, an implication that she was offended and never wanted to return. That would be no help to Barbara if a return mission was needed. How the hell was she going to explain this, anyway? So sorry, screwed up the mission, got distracted by waffles and french fries?

Okay, maybe now would be a good time to raise the subject of surveillance. Dinah opened her mouth.

"Damnit. Get the rubber bands off the cats!" Selina shoved back her chair and pointed at Dex. "Now!"

Two cats were jumping around sideways, trying to escape from bands knotted in their fur. Another was miming at the air, twisting her head from side to side, rubbing at her face with her paws. A fourth was grooming his tail, which was tied to his leg.

"I'm going to kill them." She pointed at the living room. "That's why it's her job." She growled. "Holly, get off the fucking floor and quit laughing!"

Dinah leaned back in her chair, but there was a knocking at the door followed by, "It's me, doll!"

"It's open." Selina sat down with a thump.

A large man, with a crooked nose, and a crooked hat, burst through the door. He had time to take in the scene before his eyes went wide and a mob of children tackled his arms and legs.

The mob chanted, "Slam! Slam! Slam!" as he toppled, obligingly, onto the floor. Dex grabbed his fedora, mashing it onto his own head, dancing out of reach. The blond girl yanked Slam's ears while the others sat on his legs and held down his arms.

Slam grinned, nicotine stained teeth and answered, "Uncle, uncle! C'mon y'little monsters, get offa me." He craned his face toward Selina. "Tell 'em to get offa me."

"You're a big strong man. Do it yourself."

"But they're small and squishy," he protested. "'Sides, why are they still-" he raised his eyebrows at Dinah, "- why hello there, toots."

"Dinah, meet Slam. Slam, meet Dinah."

"Pleased to meet ya, ma'am."

She had to put down her fork again. "Er, hello." She stared at the lined face and unkempt gray hair.

His face slipped from humor to some sort of morbid fear. "Aw, hell, he ain't -"

"He's not here, Slam. Relax. I'm just a bit off schedule today."

"Well, okay the-"

Dex waved the fedora in the air.

"- you sorry little son of a - you put so much as a crimp in that and I'll drop you off this goddamn roof!" Slam launched himself off the floor, scattering the children who shrieked and surrounded him.

The cats started to run back and forth down the hallway, taking turns chasing each other, except for an elderly Siamese who clambered into the safety of Selina's lap. She peeled a rubber band off his head.

Holly scrambled over the couch, grabbed a dining room chair and sat down with her back to the mayhem. She folded her hands tidily under her chin. Selina cocked her head.

Holly raised her brows. "Nope. Not looking. It's not happening if I'm not looking."

A rubber band hit her on the forehead. "You're going to clean that up."

Holly rubbed her forehead in mock injury. "Make him clean it up. He started it."

Dinah didn't try to speak over the racket as a coffee table tipped over onto its side, someone tripped over the game console and fell tangled in the cords, two books landed on a head and cats puffed up, hiding under chairs.

The whipped cream was very good. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

"It's not like I own them," Selina retorted. Her words said one thing but her eyes declared, "mine, mine, mine." The tips of her teeth showed behind her lips as her smile took on a hard edge.

Dinah did her best to feel relieved at seeing Catwoman peek through, but all she could do was worry what Barbara would think of julienne fries and another dead camera feed. Maybe she could bring back a waffle.