Chapter 4
You can't lie here forever, Selina thought to herself. She had been lying awake on the table for at least a half hour. As she had regained consciousness, she realized several things at once. Firstly, it seemed that the flood of info through her senses had not died down, but instead her mind and body seemed to have adjusted. It was no longer annoying static but a stream of clear, understandable data. Because of this, she realized where she was immediately. Without getting up, she could see the massive cavern and fancy computer equipment clearly despite the dim light. The sounds of a cave echoed like a dark chorus, backed up by the high pitched voices of creatures high above with their flapping leathery wings. If there was any doubt, there was also the stench of guano hanging in the air. It didn't take much deduction to conclude she was in the famed "Bat Cave." So he had finally brought her home. Hopefully she wouldn't have to meet the parents.
Of course, all these sights, sounds and smells she was experiencing were not normal, and yet they seemed so familiar. Now she remembered why. She'd forgotten much of what she had felt in her brief time a guinea pig for Dr. Dorian, but it was coming back, fast. The realization caused her to panic, and she quickly flung up the white sheet covering her, confirming her fears. She was covered in a fine coat of fur, all her natural blond color, enough to satisfy her modesty, which was good because she wore no clothes to speak of. She stared at her hands, padded on the bottom, each finger tipped with a sharp, curved claw. With a thought, she saw it retract back into her hand. She lifted her right foot and saw it was the same. Looking down, she noticed her tail, flowing down across the table between her legs to her feet, lay limp, but at her first thought to take notice, twitched its tip back and forth nervously.
Please, she thought, this can't be happening, not again! She searched her memory over the last few days, weeks, even months trying to imagine something she could have done to make the mutation reassert itself. But she could think of nothing, no signs or suspicious happenings until the night of the heist.
She laid herself down, running her fingers (claws pulled back) back across her head. As she did so, she felt only short, thick fur, its coarseness a contrast to her old hair. Continuing up, she started when her hand hit the soft ears at the top of her head. Don't panic, she said to herself, you were cured once, there's a cure for this too. She had to believe it. But what could she do now?
She began to wonder how long she had been unconscious. She suspected it was a long time, not only because of the complexity of the change, but because of the fact that she was extremely hungry, and really needed to use the bathroom. She rolled her head to one side and saw a light shining from an open doorway at the far end of the room against the coal black wall. Even from a distance, her eyes made out a sink. First things first, get out of bed, she thought. She sat up, and swung her feet to the side. Gingerly, she stepped off the table and onto the cold stone floor. Without realizing it at first, she stood on the balls of her feet, leaning forward slightly. As she took a step, she almost lost her footing between the new stance and disorientation from having lain down for so long. But she stayed upright, with her tail acting as a balancing tool. Now more aware of herself, she rested back on the heels of her feet in her more familiar stance. It seemed she could switch between both easily. She looked around, listening intently, but could see or hear no sign of anyone else. That said, she recognized the lingering scent of Batman and Batgirl from the alley, and at least one other human, one she couldn't identify.
She walked across the cave to the bathroom, and having relieved herself, came across a mirror as she looked to exit. She tried not to look at first, but a morbid curiosity made her stop and exam herself. She had never looked at herself in a mirror the previous time. What she saw horrified but fascinated her as well. Her eyes were dark vertical slits inside glowing jade backgrounds, against a face that she didn't recognize as her own, with a thin feline nose line that stretched out with her jaws to form a cross of a human mouth and short cat muzzle, lined with the fangs of a predator and guarded on each side with a pair of whiskers. A pair of pointed ears stood atop her head. They seemed to move on their own. She ran her fingers over them; her old hair, dyed brown, had indeed vanished.
Her tail seemed to move involuntarily, but when she focused on it, she found it almost prehensile, and easily controlled. The coat of short but thick fur wrapped her entire body, acting as a skintight suit against the well developed but sleek muscles that filled out her still very much feminine frame, making her think of a cross between an Amazon warrior and a blond cat. She rotated her body to see herself more fully, and then leaned over, finding her spine to be remarkably flexible. Hardly thinking of what she was doing, she comfortably got on all fours and took a few steps, before she concluded she had satisfied her curiosity and stood up quickly.
Turning her mind to other things, she looked at the sink, rubbing her dry throat. She turned the cold water on and leaned into the sink, her hands cupping the water as she lapped it up, revealing a change she hadn't thought of: her tongue was long and versatile, easily coaxing the cool water down her throat.
Beginning to feel slightly refreshed, she stopped at the faint sound of a door closing, followed by steps. She turned her head as a gust of cave air through the door blew her the familiar scent. She walked out of the bathroom.
"Selina, you're awake!" Batman shouted from across the room, "Don't worry, we'll find a way to reverse this again!"
"Thank you." She replied. She moved toward the center of the room in front of the computer monitor. "I just got up."
Batman met her there, "How do you feel?"
Selina paused; he seeing her like this caused the stress and shame to come afresh like a wave at her. For a second, she thought she'd break down into tears, and fly into his arms sobbing. But something stopped her. Perhaps it was born out of their rivalry or respect. Perhaps it was pride; no one would see Catwoman cry like a weak little girl. Or perhaps she didn't want to burden him with her weakness, but she quickly committed herself to approach this with the strength of a stoic. She composed herself and said, "Other than the fact that I'm hungry and still a little disoriented, I feel fine." She looked at her hands, "Do you have any idea…"
"Why? I'm not sure. Apparently Dr. Dorian's process had a few bugs in it, but we're working on it. Why don't you sit down, and I'll get you something to eat."
Selina nodded, and sat back on the table. Batman spoke, as he turned to leave, "By the way, there are some clothes on the shelf next to you." Selina looked down at a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans. She picked it up in her hand, bringing it to her face. The smell of detergent irritated her nose, and she could feel the roughness of the cloth against her fur. Inexplicably she formed an image in her head, of some creepy old women dressing their cats up in red Christmas stockings, doting them while fencing them in their laundry room.
"No, no thanks," she heard herself say. "I'm fine."
Batman turned his head to acknowledge, and then continued up the stairs. Catwoman curled up herself on the table, her head resting on her knees as she sat, staring straight ahead.
