Chapter 9
One Year Earlier
Water dripped onto the scuffed hardwood floors as she entered her apartment. The rain hadn't let up since she'd left him on the roof - getting home had been more treacherous than anticipated due to the poor visibility and seemingly endless acres of slick brick.
Shaking, she slammed the window closed and leaned against the curtains, paying little mind to the water clinging to her suit like a sin. The unshakable tremble in her limbs wasn't from the cold. It was from him. From what they had almost done on that roof. From how angry she was at herself for letting it get that far.
Isis meowed at her as she entered, hopping down from her favorite sleeping spot on the arm of the couch to sit just outside the puddle of water pooling around Selina's feet, her tail curled around her dainty body.
"I really don't want to talk about it," she grumbled to the cat, kicking her boots off and leaving a trail of waterlogged clothes from the window to the shower.
It never should have gone that far. It was supposed to be a game, a game they'd stopped playing a long time ago. Bracing her hands against the tile, ice cold water pouring over her body until her lips were blue and her teeth chattering.
In the beginning all she wanted was a taste of him. She wanted to taste his lips, to taste justice in its purest form. The first time they kissed, she shocked him by pressing her lips to his as he tried to slap a pair of hilariously-shaped bat handcuffs onto her wrists. He tasted of salted caramel. That surprised her. The shock allowed him to subdue her. For a little while.
That should have been the end.
Then there were the light touches over broad shoulders or curved hips, then deep kisses that bruised their lips, then...whatever had just happened out on the roof. It would never be enough. She'd always want more.
Lately, she wanted more than their game across the city or his kisses in the dark. Who was he behind that mask? Could they have more than heated flirtation facilitated by costumes and rooftops?
Wrenching the faucet closed, she ran a towel roughly across her body, rubbing so hard with the terrycloth her skin was as red as an overripe tomato when she was done. This - them - it couldn't be. It just couldn't. As electric as their chemistry was, she needed to think of herself. Relationships were not for her, they never had been. Especially relationships with masked men who would be more than willing to turn her over to the GCPD for any number of her nighttime activities. She needed to remember that Selina Kyle didn't pull herself out of poverty by bending to the whims of men, no matter how well they kissed.
Maybe she just needed a break from Gotham. A break from all the familiar places. A break from him.
In her bedroom in nothing but her panties, she hit the speed dial on one of her burner phones. "Jimmy" - she knew that wasn't his real name - answered.
Jimmy was a guy who worked for another guy who worked for yet another guy who sometimes hired her to do jobs. Simple stuff - lift documents, steal data, etc. Nothing difficult. The last job he'd offered was in Prague. She originally said no, but...
"You still need someone to house sit for your friend?" she asked, using the established code.
"Yeah. You available?"
"When do you need me?" she answered, throwing her suitcase onto her bed. Isis's eyes narrowed when she saw the bag. With her nose proudly in the air, she sauntered out of the room, her displeasure evident with every swish of her tail.
"24." 24 hours.
"I'll be there." She hung up without another word and tossed the burner on the bed. Picking up her real cell, she scrolled through the contacts before tapping on the one she was looking for.
"Lola? It's Selina. I need a favor...No, nothing like that...I need you to watch Isis for awhile..."
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Present Day
Everything hurt. The metallic taste of blood lingered on her back molars while the stink of dried river muck emanated from her tangled hair. She groaned and rolled over, pushing the soft cotton blanket aside. She was on a gurney, blinding light shining down on her, wires monitoring her vital signs. Taking a quick assessment, she saw she had been stripped of her costume and wrapped in a hospital gown. The strings holding the back closed were tied with neat bows.
"Good morning, Miss. How are you feeling?" The older gentleman from the night before smiled kindly at her. Immaculate. That was the only word she could think to describe him. The hair on his head was combed backwards with military precision and the shine on his shoes was so spotless they glinted like mirrors. He smelled of sandalwood and freshly baked cookies.
Her arm radiated pain with each move and her back stung like she'd peeled all the skin off. It must have happened when her suit ripped open on the river rocks as he pulled her from the water. Him.
"...Batman...Is he...?" she managed, her tongue dry like sandpaper.
"Not to worry, Miss, he'll be along shortly. Come, drink this." He handed her a glass of cool water, which she immediately drained. The man smiled, well-worn creases appearing around his youthful hazel eyes. He was charismatic and charming, just being near him put her at ease. Strange to find him here surrounded by damp granite and restless bats.
"How are you feeling?" Batman's baritone voice reverberated through the steel gurney as he emerged from the shadows in that way of his. He fought a limp as he walked. The older gentleman nodded to her once before leaving them.
"How long was I out?"
"Four and half hours." She groaned again and swung her legs over the side of the metal table, every move sending jolts of pain across her tender back. Planting her legs on the floor, she attempted to stand. It was no use. Her legs were jelly. She started to fall.
Then his arm was around her midsection, supporting her.
"Careful. The anesthetic is powerful. It'll take some time to wear off." The table shook as she clung to it for balance.
"My kingdom for a shower," she mumbled as she tried to steady her shaking knees.
"Over there," he said, gesturing toward a door she hadn't seen a moment ago. Taking a moment to survey the area, she couldn't believe that he actually hung out in a cave. A specially renovated cave with a bathroom and a triage center, but a cave all the same. Fitting.
"Where'd that charming gentleman go?"
"Away," he said, as stoic as ever. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling.
"Glad you're still the sparkling conversationalist that I remember," she said sarcastically. "Is he your father?"
"It's complicated."
"Uh huh." Dropping the subject, she took a step towards the bathroom. Her legs wobbled and her head spun. She gripped the table again. "You weren't kidding about those drugs."
"Here," he said, taking her arm around his shoulder.
"You're not going to carry me?" she asked, using her best damsel in distress voice.
"Not on this leg." With his support, her steps became stronger as they moved. By the time they reached the bathroom she felt less like she was walking on putty. She steadied herself on the doorframe as he let her go. She missed his arms instantly.
"Will you be ok?" he asked as she took a few tentative steps into the brightly lit masculine bathroom. He was lingering.
Nodding, she tried to untie the bows at her back, biting her lip to prevent her from hissing in pain as she moved. Looking weak in front of him was worse than reeking of dried blood and river mud.
"Let me." The tenor in his voice made her forget the pain dancing across her nerves. There were a few barely perceptible tugs on the fabric of the gown before the cool air stung at her cuts.
"Is my back-"
"Just scrapes." His low, gentle voice washed over her. "My friend took the liberty of cleaning and repairing your suit. I'll ask him to leave it on the counter for you."
"Thank you," she said quietly. She could feel him at her back, feel his energy mingling with hers in a small space between their bodies. Her heart was pounding against her ribs so hard it was liable to burst through her chest at any moment.
Damn him. Damn him for reducing her to this with nothing more than his presence. For the first time since she'd arrived in Gotham, she questioned the wisdom of returning.
"About the ride here-"
"I don't know where I am, if that's what you're worried about."
"I know. If you hadn't..." He trailed off, taking a step back, breaking the tension tethering their bodies together.
"I didn't do anything," she said, waving it away with her hand. He nodded and disappeared from the room.