Bruce was in a meeting when Alfred burst into the sitting room, looking more agitated than Bruce could ever remember seeing him. That didn't bode well.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, slightly out of breath but managing to regain his composure. "I am so terribly sorry to interrupt."

"Don't be, we're wrapping up here," Harvey Dent said. Bruce felt a twinge of irritation at being answered for, before he stuffed it away. Dent was a politician, used to be the center of attention wherever he went, and they had just been wrapping up. Dent was running for district attorney, and he needed funding. He'd been a fan of Bruce's parents and everything they stood for, or so he said, and thought the next logical leap was to come to their orphaned son for funding. To his credit, Bruce had been slowly but surely acclimating himself to Gotham after so many years of being a recluse. Then again, he was just nineteen. "Mr. Wayne, it was a pleasure meeting you. You've got a bright future ahead, and I hope we can be partners for some of it."

"I will think about your proposal and have an answer within the week," Bruce said. "Thank you for coming by."

"I will show you out," Alfred said stiffly. Dent waved him off.

"I know the way. And it seems like you've got something a little bigger to worry about. Take care." Dent waved and showed himself out, and Bruce turned to Alfred. Whatever had him so worried, it wasn't good.

"Selina is here." Alfred said, like he had dozens of times in the last few weeks. But something in his tone said that this wasn't a good meeting. Bruce didn't say a word, just followed Alfred out the door into his office. Selina was slumped over in a chair, staring at the wall blankly. She didn't even acknowledge them when they came in. Bruce's mouth dropped open at the sight of her like that, curled on herself like a doll. She had always been small, but now she looked half her normal size, her arms wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to protect herself and her legs tucked beneath her. She looked moments away from shrinking right out of existence. "She's not speaking," Alfred whispered, but Bruce was willing to bet that Selina couldn't hear him anyway. Her head was cocked at an odd angle, like she couldn't bear the weight of holding it upright any longer, and Bruce's heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her, even as rage boiled through his blood. Who had done this? He'd tear them to fucking pieces. It occurred to him that Bruce had never been particularly violent until Selina had dive-bombed into his life. "She's exhibiting symptoms of shock, and before she mentioned someone named Gerard? I couldn't make out the rest." At the name, Selina jerked upright, bolting to her feet like she'd been electrocuted.

"Selina?" Bruce said warily, taking a step toward her. She whirled around to face him but her eyes were unfocused and Bruce realized with a cold pang of shock that she wasn't seeing him at all. "Selina, talk to me. It's me, it's Bruce. Wayne. Billionaire." None of the nicknames she'd awarded him seemed to break the numb blankness that had settled over her like ice. He moved closer and she exploded into action, twisting her wrists so hard that Bruce could hear a small pop, but she didn't seem to feel the pain. Her knives were in her hands in an instant and then she was eyeing him up and down like he was a target. "Selina, it's me. Please, listen to me." Bruce's voice was raw with anxiety and he wasn't even looking at the blades, too focused on trying to find any kind of recognition in her eyes. There was none.

Spurred on by something Bruce couldn't see, Selina rounded on him, the knives brought up to attack –

She screamed – the first vocal response he'd heard – as a gun went off and there was a clatter as one knife fell to the floor. Bruce spun wildly, seeing Alfred holding a pistol still aimed at her. She was bleeding, the shot having grazed the top of her hand.

"Jesus Christ, Alfred!" Bruce shouted, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What the hell was that for?" Alfred wasn't looking at him, he was staring at Selina. For her part, Selina was staring right back, and Bruce knew that she was assessing, trying to find a weak point.

"Selina, I'm going to have to ask you to put down the knife," Alfred said, his voice as contained as ever, but there was steel buried there. Selina didn't answer just let the second blade fall to the floor. Bruce almost sighed with relief, but he never had the opportunity. No sooner had the knife hit the ground than Selina was moving, launching herself across the room to where his father's whip was still mounted on the wall. Bruce had put it up after she'd saved his life with it, and wished that he hadn't. Her hand and wrist gauntleted with blood, Selina yanked the whip off of the wall. Before either he or Alfred could react the three cattails were wrapped around Alfred's wrist, yanking the gun out of his hands. Alfred swore when Selina pulled the bullwhip away and Bruce lurched forward, managing to coil both of his arms around hers so that she couldn't move. She screamed again, a long, piercing cry that damn near shattered his eardrums, and Bruce realized with abject horror that her eyes were wet with tears. What in God' name had happened to her?

"I have to," she murmured brokenly. "I have to."

"What do you have to do, Selina?" he asked desperately, spinning the both of them so that they were face to face. She looked up at him miserably, the tiniest flicker of recognition lighting up her eyes from within.

"I have to – " Her words were cut off as a hypodermic syringe was jammed into her neck and her eyes rolled. Selina went limp in his arms and Bruce turned to see Alfred, wielding the needle and shrugging.

"Forgive me, Master Wayne, but next time you decide to have relations with a criminal, please make sure that combat is not an aspect of their skillset. For now, let's make sure she wakes comfortably, shall we? I'm afraid that Miss Selina has gone through one hell of an ordeal." Bruce looked down at Selina, at her restless eyes twitching beneath her lids and the frown that turned her mouth down even in sleep, and couldn't help but agree.

Selina woke quickly, her eyes flying open and she nearly leaped out of the bed she found herself in. Nearly. A rush of dizziness and nausea crashed over her head and she sank back into the pillows in a dejected heap. She was at the Manor, that much was clear. Nowhere else has such annoyingly lavish guest bedrooms.

It was Wayne Manor, but she had no idea how she'd gotten there. The last thing she remembered was getting on a bus outside of Fish's club, numb and terrified of the hellish deadline that had been presented to her. Kill Gerard in ten days or be killed herself. Worse, Ivy was on the hit list as well. After paying the bus driver, everything was a weird, dull blur. Her memory was in pieces – flashes of color and sound. A gunshot. A scream. Bruce looking at her like she was going crazy. Maybe she was. Selina raised her hand to her head and noticed with a start that it was bandaged and painful. Had she been shot? Who the hell had shot her? If she had to bet, Selina's money was on Alfred. Bruce hated guns almost as much as she did and he was a shit shot anyway. A second question occurred to her:

What had she done to make Alfred desperate enough to shoot her? They'd had their problems, but Selina had eaten her pride and mended that fence weeks ago. He wouldn't have hurt her if he had a choice, Selina knew that without question. So what had she done? Selina rolled her neck and found it stiff. A Band-Aid covered a small puncture wound. She'd been drugged. That explained the nausea. Ivy's anti-serum was no doubt acting against it even now, making all kinds of unpleasant side effects. Then again, Selina was willing to bet that she should've been out for longer than she was. She made a mental note to thank Ivy later.

Ivy. Selina's heart sank, thinking once again of the deadline. Ivy had to get out of town, and take Harley with her.

Once Selina was confident she could stand without throwing up or falling over, she cautiously made her way out of the bedroom. Alfred was nowhere in sight and the cameras wouldn't detect her, thanks to Manny's last gift. Selina's eyes found the ceiling and she winged a quick thank you to whoever might be up there and listening. She'd never been the praying type, but at this point it couldn't hurt.

Slowly, she made her way to Bruce's office. He spent nearly all of his time in there when they weren't together, Alfred had told her once. He wasn't wrong. He was on the phone, sitting at his desk with his back to her, speaking to someone over the phone and in French. Selina padded in, listening as he discussed some sort of business with whoever was on the line. Quietly, she was impressed. Selina knew that he was trying to be more invested in his company, but singlehandedly negotiating with foreign investors was a lot to shoulder before you were legally allowed to drink.

"Euh," Bruce paused, tripping over a word.

"Le atout," Selina whispered in his ear. An asset. "Your company would make un atout precieux." Bruce jumped a little then quickly ending the conversation.

"You are not supposed to be awake yet," he said. "I also did not know that you spoke French."

"I speak a lot of languages," Selina replied, shrugging. She'd never finished high school – and hadn't taken any languages in school anyway – but she'd picked them up over the years. When working with Italian gangsters, it helped to speak Italian. But, then again, Gotham's seedy underbelly was filled with criminals from every corner of the world. It had been in Selina's best interest to learn as many as possible.

"Really?" Bruce said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Your surprise wounds me."

"No I'm impressed," Bruce said before his lips turned down in a frown. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed in the neck for something I can't remember doing," Selina said, absently rubbing where she'd ripped off the bandage. "Also, someone shot me. I'm guessing Jeeves." Bruce flinched and looked away. "Bruce, what the hell happened to me?"

"I was going to ask you that. You…well you almost attacked me."

"And your bulldog-slash-butler shot me for it, gotcha. Jesus," she said, mostly to herself. "I don't even remember how I got here."

"Alfred said that you were in shock. It was like you didn't even recognize us." It was worse than he was saying, Selina could tell.

"What did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I hurt Alfred?"

"Well…" Bruce hedged.

"Tell me."
"You broke his wrist. With the whip."

"Shit," Selina swore, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "Is he okay? Are you okay? I didn't do anything to you, did I?" Selina was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she'd made it to the Manor in some kind of fugue state. Sure, she'd been shocked at what Falcone and Fish were proposing – shocked and terrified and horrified – but to dissociate completely? Selina had known that she was crazy for a while but this was verging on psychotic.

"I'm fine. I'm worried about you."

"Me too, believe me," Selina said, winding her unbroken hand through her hair and pacing the length of the room. She had to tell him. Which meant telling him about Gerard and the Penguin too. Selina had made it clear that there were things about her life that she couldn't tell him for his own safety, but not something like this. Not when she thought she was going to die and she'd wished she could say goodbye. Selina owed him the truth.

"You don't have to talk about it now," Bruce offered before she could start. Selina looked up at him, her expression hopeful. "Whatever happened, it must have been awful. Alfred said that some of his old army buddies used to react like that sometimes, but they all had PTSD. Whatever it was, if can wait if you want it to." Slowly, Selina nodded, feeling tears crowding in her eyes. "Okay," Bruce said, winding his hand thought hers. "You've had a rough twenty-four hours. I think that's earned my thoroughly mediocre cooking." Selina pretended to groan, but the weight on her chest seemed to lighten just a touch. She didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve this, and he didn't deserve all the trouble that she'd dumped on his doorstep. Bruce was good and she…well, Selina broke everything she touched.

Maybe that's why she was so obsessed with learning how to put things back together.

Alfred joined them halfway Bruce's disastrous attempt at making pancakes, which Selina was openly mocking. Seriously. Who messed up pancakes? He waved her off when Selina apologized for breaking his wrist, but she still felt the pang of guilt seeing his arm in a sling. Still, even one-armed, the old man's pancakes kicked Bruce's ass.

They were competing to see who could make the tallest pancake tower – childish, yes, but it was a moment of fun and she needed the distraction – when the doorbell rang and Alfred made to excuse himself

"I'll get it," Bruce said. "I think you and Selina have some things to talk over." He was gone before Selina could object, but she managed to shoot him a filthy look before he went. She didn't say anything to Alfred for a long moment, shoveling pancake into her mouth to delay the inevitable.

"I don't blame you, you know," Alfred said finally. Selina squinted at him. "You know, I used to have this friend, back during my army days. Brilliant soldier, horrid civilian. He saw some things overseas, we all did, but they affected him more deeply. One day he showed up at my flat, but it was like he wasn't there at all. PTSD-induced dissociate state, the doctors called it, brought on by the horrors of what he'd seen." Alfred gave her a keen look and Selina struggled not to look away. "You've seen horrors, Selina. You were only trying to protect yourself, and I can't fault you that."

"Thank you," she said softly. She hadn't expected his understanding, or forgiveness.

"Although I must say, having my wrist broken with a whip is a new one."

"The fact that he kept the freaking bullwhip on the wall," Selina said, dropping her head into her bandaged hands. "I don't even know how to use it."

"You know more than you think," Alfred said coolly.

"Fugue state," Selina said, like she was pleading the Fifth.

"I'm serious," Alfred said, smiling in that benign way of his. "Give it some practice and you could be a regular rodeo clown."

"That's cold," Selina said, but she was laughing, relieved that he was taking all of this so well. "You're not allowed to be mean to me, you shot me."

"I daresay I had a good reason. You broke my wrist."

"Shooting is worse."

"It's a flesh wound."

"It's still going to scar!"

"I don't think Master Wayne will quite fall out of love with you because of one new scar. He's quite fond of them, in fact." Selina stilled, stunned into silence at his words. Fall out of love? As in…She took a drink of water to keep the panic on her face from showing.

"Selina?" Bruce's voice came from outside the kitchen and she sighed with relief. Saved by the billionaire. "Come here, I have something to show you." Selina gratefully ducked out.

"What's u – " Selina stopped dead in her tracks, dropping the glass she forgot she'd been holding. "Oh my God." Bruce was slouching, his head lolling lazily on his shoulders, and there was a syringe jammed into his neck. A syringe wielded expertly by a very tall, very angry someone with violently red hair. "Ivy," Selina breathed, her heart tripping in her chest.

"Tell me it's a con," Ivy said, her voice low and dangerous. "Tell me that there's an endgame where you steal everything he has and then go somewhere safe. Tell me you haven't been risking your life for him!"

"What did you do to him?" Selina demanded. Bruce was limp and stumbling, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "Jesus Ivy, what did you do?" Alfred came storming out of the kitchen at her raised voice, drawing his gun immediately when he saw Ivy.

"Unbelievable," Ivy snarled. "Your life on the line, the war, and you've been spending your time playing Princess of Gotham?"

"Miss," Alfred said, polite to a fault, though his voice was iron and his hand didn't shake. "I would suggest you release Mr. Wayne immediately."

"Ivy," Selina said softly. "Listen to me. Let him go, please."

"And have Jeeves shoot me? No thanks. He stays with me." Selina's eyes flicked from Ivy to Bruce, despair pooling in her gut, and Ivy growled. "He's fine. A little out of it and very open to suggestion, but fine." That explained why he'd called her out here; Bruce would never had purposely put her in harm's way. "God, Selina. How could you do this? How could you be so stupid? And how could you not tell me about it?" Selina opened her mouth to reply when she heard the click of Alfred's safety being disengaged.

"Stop!" she shouted, throwing herself in between him and Ivy. "Jesus fuck both of you listen to me. Alfred, put the gun down, because if you shoot my best friend I will burn this whole place to the ground. Ivy. Let him go or I will stab you in the leg, I swear to God." Slowly, Alfred lowered his gun and with a sneer, Ivy shoved Bruce away from herself. He stumbled into Selina's arms and she inspected his eyes before passing him off to Alfred. "He's going to be fine," she whispered. "What she used was nontoxic. Just put him to bed and let him sleep it off."

"You're certain? And you will take care of your friend here?" Selina nodded, keeping her body between Alfred and Bruce's retreating figures and Ivy.

"Ivy – " Selina started. She barely got the name out before Ivy cut her off.

"Did you think I would care?" Ivy demanded, eyes burning with green fire. "Did you think that I would give a shit that you were with him? You think that with everything we're going through, I would give a damn about your rich boyfriend?" Ivy paused, pacing back and forth. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because he's Bruce Wayne, living embodiment of everything we hate in this world. God, I've never hated anymore more than I hated him."

"Then what the hell happened?"

"He saved me." Selina said haltingly. "I saved him. And now…"

"You love him."

"Yeah." She'd never said it before, never so much as thought it, but it was true. "Yeah, I love him. I should have told you."

"I would've kept the both of you safe," Ivy mumbled, looking down.

"What?"

"I would've kept the both of you safe!" Ivy said, shouting now. "You think I care that he's Bruce fucking Wayne? I'm in love with a civilian who just recently found out that I'm a criminal. At least yours knows what you are. Christ, Sel. Does he make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then I support you. I would've supported you sooner. Sure, I would've been a little shocked, but I would've gotten over it because I'm Ivy Pepper and you're Selina Kyle and we're in this together, no matter what happens." Selina hesitated, blinking tears out of her eyes. God. Ivy and Bruce. With all the horrible shit in her life, how had she managed to trick the two of them into loving her? And how was she going to survive if she lost them?

"V," she said, happiness draining away when she remembered the deadline and everything that had happened in the last few days. "In the spirit of honesty, there's something I have to tell you. You're not going to like it." Looping her arm through Ivy's, Selina started walking. "Come on, we'll walk and talk. And raid the liquor. Alfred's got great taste in Scotch."

I know technically it's a Saturday, but I only missed it by 25 minutes! Anyway, hope you all enjoy!