Author's Note - Here we go! Last two chapters! Thank you to everyone who has kept up with the story and a special thanks to everyone who has posted reviews. I cannot thank you enough for all the feedback. Thank you all so SO SO much!

Chapter 23

Six Weeks Later

Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, his left hand propping up his head as he absentmindedly doodled on a legal pad with his right. Once a month he sat through an hour-long conference call regarding the Wayne Enterprises budget. It was all for show. He monitored the budget closely and was fully aware of any anomalies or shortfalls, usually before the accountants noticed. But Bruce Wayne wasn't expected to care about or even understand the company's finances. Sometimes he wondered if he'd done himself a disservice by creating an identity that most believed was about as smart as a bag of hammers.

Something small in the proposed budget had become a sticking point for one of the VPs in Metropolis - office supplies, he thought? - and all the VPs on the call had been arguing about it in that stifled business way of arguing for a good 35 minutes. Bruce hadn't said a word.

Tuning out the voices coming from his phone's speaker, he ran through his mental to-do list for the evening:

Cross-check the records from GCPD regarding the rash of warehouse burglaries on the Westside,

Keep an eye out for muggers near busy shopping areas (always more this time of year), and

general patrol.

A surprisingly light schedule for a Friday in December.

Glancing down at his doodles, he discovered he'd done it again. He'd filled the margins of his legal pad with tiny little cats.

He hadn't seen Selina since their exchange in the Vladikavkaz airport. After their quick conversation in the bar, she boarded a plane bound for Paris and he took a flight to Athens. He felt the residual warmth of her hand on his for most of his flight.

Once he landed, he slipped out a side exit and hopped a private jet belonging to a Wayne Enterprises shell corporation back to Gotham. Where she had gone after arriving in Paris he couldn't say. If she was in Gotham, she'd laid low and managed to avoid getting caught on any of the city security cameras he monitored.

After returning the biotoxin to the germ lab, he stepped up his patrols around the museum. He didn't want to believe Catwoman would try to steal real Queen's Ruby but, given her track record, he couldn't rule it out, either. The exhibit had ended three days ago and she never appeared. One part pleased with her absence and the other disappointed, he tried to avoid reading too much into her lack of criminal activity over the past six weeks. He tried to avoid hoping to cross her path again. He tried to avoid missing her.

The door to his office swung open and his assistant Doris walked in, her arms weighed down by several gift baskets brimming with nuts, dried fruit, popcorn, and bottles of wine.

"Oh no, not more," he said after verifying the phone was on mute.

"It's the holidays, Mr. Wayne. Your contacts want to make sure you receive a little something so you'll keep doing business with them next year."

"They've a better chance of that if they donate to charity."

"Give alcohol to the office holiday party stash and put the gift baskets in the kitchen for the employees?"

"Please."

"What about this one?" Doris held up a small dark purple jewelry box tied with a black ribbon.

"What is it?"

"No idea. It was x-rayed before they brought it up. It's safe, whatever it is." The mailroom x-rayed all packages that came into Wayne Enterprises. It was part of normal life in a city like Gotham.

"Leave it."

As she left, he studied the box, turning it over in search of a note or a tag. There was none. Luckily, he was prepared for these situations.

Donning a pair of gloves and a surgical mask hidden in the false bottom of one of his drawers, he slowly untied the ribbon. Nothing happened. After checking the top of the box for triggers and finding none, he took a deep breath and pulled the top off. A piece of paper was nestled inside the box. He pulled it out, unfolded it, and saw a message scrawled across it in a loopy hand:

"Next time I'll keep them.

XO,

S"

He looked in the box. There, atop a small piece of cotton batting, sat his silver cufflinks.

^()^ ^()^ ^()^ ^()^ ^()^

At 2:30 a.m. she arrived back at her new apartment. Temperatures in the low teens hadn't deterred her from taking a much-needed jaunt around the city's rooftops. She'd missed it.

Isis didn't move from her cat tree when Selina slipped in through the skylight.

"Still mad at me?" she asked, pulling her cowl from her head and running her fingers through her hair. The cat stood, stretched, and turned so her back was facing her owner before sitting back down. "I'll take that as a yes."

Save the cat tree, a small table and chair, and her queen bed; the loft apartment was unfurnished. Most everything she owned was still in storage. It didn't matter. She was home. Finally.

"Nice place." A deep baritone rolled over her, sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"You should learn to knock," she said, trying to calm her heart as he emerged from the stood in the dark apartment, hearts pounding in their throats. It should be awkward, this silence between them after everything. Instead, it was comforting. He'd missed her, missed everything about her. She'd missed him, too.

"I-" she said, trailing off as they stared at each other in the dark.

Everything gave way. Everything they'd pushed aside during the mission - the lust, the attraction, the actual affection for the other; it was on the surface now, burning in their eyes, making it hard to breathe.

He didn't say a word. There was nothing he could say to convey how he'd missed her, how her absence had left a part of him he didn't know existed hollow and empty. So he just kissed her.

She kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his. The kiss surged through her, making her weak, making her toes curl in her boots and causing the tendons in her fingers to contract into weak fists.

Somehow he held her upright as he struggled against the impulse to melt into her, to sink to his knees and take her down with him, to drown in her right there on her hardwood floor. They were urged on by what they'd wanted for so long - to be one, joined at the lips and the hips, breath and moans intertwined and tangled There was no intellectual rationalizing keeping them apart, no sirens echoing in the distance to interrupt them - it was just their lips pressed together and their tongues dancing in perfect rhythm.

She searched for a way into his suit to feel his skin. She had felt Bruce Wayne's solid warmth in the museum, she knew Batman's ridged heat from the rooftop. Tonight neither would be enough. Tonight she wanted Bruce. Only Bruce.

"I want to feel you. Not this," she whispered, her claws scratching grooves into the bat symbol emblazoned across his chest. Nodding once, they made short work of both their costumes. Isis took refuge in the bathroom as dark-colored items flew around the apartment until they were stripped down to their underwear. Many hours later, after everything, she would find one of her boots standing upright in her kitchen sink.

Her fingers ran down his chest, ran across the body she'd fled from and relied on, the body she'd battled and, soon, loved. That beautiful, scarred, battered body. The bullet wound in his thigh was colored the pink of newly-healed flesh. She made a mental note to be gentle around his fresh injuries and pressed her lips to the skin on his collarbone.

His lips parted as he ran his fingertips over her shoulders. She was soft and supple, her skin warm and inviting, just as it always had been. Everything about her was perfect, even the scars on her body, the scars no one living this life could avoid. A large purple bruise colored her thigh, a bruise he wouldn't ask about because he didn't need to ask. He knew; just as she knew why he had fresh stitches on his forearm. Finding her lips again, he gripped her ass as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the bed while trying not to trip on the pieces of his suit strewn about the apartment.

"Everything's still in storage," she said against his lips as he knelt on the mattress.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered, biting her neck and pushing her onto her back. With surprising speed she flipped him onto his back, her eyes burning with lust. He returned her gaze in that way men have - eyes slightly glazed over with passion and desire.

Straddling him, his hands instantly found their way to her hips as he sat up to kiss her. She dragged her nails lightly down his chest and over his nipples, smiling when he gasped in surprised pleasure. Slowly and deliberately, she moved her pelvis against his erection as he removed her bra and tossed the garment across the apartment.

"You like that, lover?" she whispered, running her nails over his nipples again as she moved her hips with purpose. He grunted in the affirmative. Flipping her over, he placed one gentle kiss on her sternum directly between her breasts before teasing her right nipple into a hard peak with his mouth. She shivered and arched against him, her mouth open in a silent moan.

He whispered her name lowly before kissing her so hard she lost her breath. His hands skimmed her sides until he made contact with her flimsy underwear and he pushed the garment off her hips and down her legs, his erection nudging against her as he worked. When she was completely bare before him, he sat back and took her in, those ice blue eyes roaming over her form and committing it to memory. When he made eye contact with her again she winked before jumping on him and knocking him onto his back. He smirked as his head his the pillows.

She straddled his legs and kissed down his body, using her tongue and lips in tandem as her fingernails worked his sides. Pulling his shorts down, he raised his hips so she could rip them from his body with purpose and toss them aside. Mirroring his actions from earlier, she took in every line of his form - every scar, every indent in his musculature, every freckle. He was so beautiful.

He didn't even have time to inhale before she took him into her mouth.

"Jesus," he gasped as she started to bob her head up and down, her fingers lightly stroking his balls. He looked down and watched - her lips wrapped tightly around him, her cheeks hollow, her eyes closed, her breasts moving with the rhythm of her body. She was amazing - smart, resourceful, strong...he couldn't think. He just enjoyed.

His orgasm built within him. But he couldn't. Not without her. He stopped her and pulled her up his body, kissing her hard and fierce. Instead of rolling her onto her back, he utilized his upper body strength and lifted her lower body onto his face.

"Oh!" she cried in surprise as his lips made first contact with her heated sex. Once she acclimated to his ministrations, she knelt above his face as he licked and sucked her most sensitive area. His fingers dug into her ass as he pulled her closer, making sure he tasted every last drop of her sweetness. He brought one hand up and inserted a finger inside her.

"Oh God..." she gasped, leaning backward and putting all her weight on her arms, her hands gripping his thick rugby player thighs - thankfully far from the still-healing bullet wound. She bucked her hips against his face. There was no thought, just instinct.

She was moaning incoherently now, her body trembling. She was close. He had every intention of taking her right over the edge but she pulled herself away. Shaking, she straddled him and kissed his face clean. Panting between kisses she asked:

"Do you have a condom?"

He smiled against her lips in response and reached for his utility belt, the only piece of his suit he'd been deliberate in discarding. He pulled one out.

"Always prepared. I like that about you," she said as she grabbed it from him and unwrapped it. She pushed it onto his erect cock, earning a small uptick in breath from Bruce. He rolled her gently onto her back and positioned himself at her entrance.

Looking down at her, her green eyes half-lidded, lips parted with anticipation, he felt a tightness in his chest. He'd wanted this, wanted this woman who surprised him at every turn and made his heart pound as he chased her across the city. As they worked together, he found himself wanting more than just sex. This wouldn't be enough for them. And that was ok.

"Selina," he whispered, his heart on his sleeve, his face completely open.

"Bruce," she whispered, smiling, her face just as open. The look on her face was the same one from the Batplane. She bit her lip and gripped his forearms as he slid himself into her with one solid thrust. They both groaned. It was better than he imagined. They kissed and moved together in perfect four four time, their lips lingering on the other's.

It was good. It was too good. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and thrust slowly and deeply into her, committing every last second to memory, relishing in the feeling of finally being joined with her.

Selina's eyes slid closed and she gripped his powerful shoulders. God, this was good. Just like during their mission, they worked together. Instead of a battle for dominance, each movement established a partnership, a perfect balance of give and take. Their movements complimentary - she rolled her hips further into him as his hands gripped her thighs and pulled her toward him; his shoulders dipped into her as she grabbed onto him for leverage. Sparks ignited embers which grew into flame as their passion deepened, their bodies flush.

Sliding his hand between them, he brushed his thumb across her clit, moving delicious circles over her and drawing light moans from her lips. Time meant nothing as they moved, there was no before or after, there was just this moment. This perfect moment.

Soon she clenched around him and cried out, her body arching, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she came. He managed to force his eyes open to watch her face in ecstasy, and when she finished and met his gaze with a half-lidded satisfied stare, he followed her into bliss.

He collapsed atop her and she relished in the feeling of his full weight on hers.

"That was..." she whispered into his ear while running her hand through his sweat-damped hair. He pulled his head up to look at her, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Yeah," he whispered, kissing her again.