Nota Bene: This story is not canon. I don't follow the comics and only know the various stories from the movies and growing up with Batman cartoons, supplemented with internet research. As with my previous stories, this started with a dream and is combined with ramblings of my own mind. In this case, it is a little personal fantasy, too. Batman. Mmm. Hot.

Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.

Batman: Revelations

Chapter Four

A few nights later, Batman was well rested, but still suffering from the bruised ribs and his shoulder was stiff and sore from the stab wound. He suited up and drove the Batmobile towards the heart of Gotham. Tonight his mind wasn't on the city. It hadn't been since that night with Catwoman. He was going to find her.

He was confused, his emotions churning. She was a criminal. In their years as adversaries, she had kicked him out a window, tossed him off a building, thrown countless punches and kicks his way. She continued to break the law in dramatic fashion, completely disregarding the laws he risked his life to enforce. But thinking back, there had never been malice in her actions. And she had never put him in situations where he ended up injured. Had that been on purpose? Had it always been a game to her?

Sometime ago, their relationship had changed. The sexual tension had always been there; there was an attraction neither of them could deny.

It had been just over a year ago when she had first kissed him. She had been after a statue of Isis that had not yet even made it out of its shipping crate. It was part of a much larger exhibit of treasures recently recovered from a Nazi shipwreck soon opening at the Gotham City Museum, after its stint in Starling City and Metropolis. He had known she'd be after it. Due to the publicity of the exhibit and the additional security precautions that the museum had installed in preparation, he had a theory she'd try to hit the warehouse. He had wired his own silent alarm on the warehouse, and sure enough, she had triggered it. It seems her research failed to discover his little addition.

After a brief battle, she had managed to shackle him to a chair with his own handcuffs. Apparently, the cat burglar was also a skilled pickpocket. He was more amused than anything, impressed she had been able to best him. He knew it was only a matter of moments before he could pick the lock on the cuffs and go after her, but she had surprised him. Instead of fleeing while she could, she had hesitated. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, sat the statue on the ground, and sauntered in his direction.

"Poor Bats. Trapped with your own cuffs. Rough night. What about a consolation prize?" She had straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

When she had kissed him, his world had spun. The taste of her lips made him dizzy. What had started as a chaste press of her soft lips to his mouth intensified when he opened his mouth to her. He had no idea how long it had lasted, but when they came up for air, he had pulled her against him, his hands clutching her waist. They both panted, out of breath. She seemed as surprised at the intensity of the kiss as he was.

He had shifted his hips, his groin suddenly constricted in the tight suit. His movement must have brought he back to her senses, because that was obviously when she realized he had freed his hands and was touching her. As quick as lightening, she had bolted, sprinting from the warehouse, the statue forgotten.

Well, that was one way to stop crime, he had mused.

Ever since that night, their interactions had been a twisted dance, stealing kisses, the pretense of a fight ending more and more frequently with their bodies intertwined.

But the more they interacted, the closer they had become. She cared. She knew him.

Batman thought back to the last time he had seen her. He had had no intention of initiating a fight. Tired and weary as he was, he had ignored the rational knowledge that he needed to go home and seek medical treatment. Instead, he had listened to the longing in his heart to go to her. He had planned to stay in the shadows. Just seeing her would have been enough.

But she had known he was there. Her demeanor had immediately changed when she saw him. She saw through his stoic stance and saw that he was hurt. She had cared for his injury, sat with him while he rested. Kissed him gently and held him when he needed comfort. She had shed tears for him.

He had been so close to talking to her about Jason. He had wanted to. Other than Dick and Alfred, he never let anyone in. Not even his long-time friend Jim Gordon. What was happening to him?

The memory of that night was still fresh and drove an intense need to find her. Who was she? He had to know.

Bruce had spent his prep time before that evening tracking recent crimes in an unsuccessful effort to identify one of her signature break-ins that could lead him to her. Oddly, she had been quiet for a few days. But she was bound to reappear soon. Tonight, he hoped. Then he would track and finally identify her.

It took him a few hours, but he eventually found her. She wasn't at a gallery or bank, as he expected. She was leaving the Gotham Animal Shelter.

What was she doing there? Certainly not after-hours volunteer work.

Batman followed her at a distance as she leapt from roof to roof, close enough that he could keep track of her, but not so close that she would know he was there. She had an uncanny ability to know when he was nearby that he didn't understand.

He was deeply aware that he could have done this years ago. It would have been simple enough to plant a tracking beacon on her during some scuffle, enabling him to find where she spent her non-thieving hours. He could have waited for her to take off the costume and go to sleep, then apprehend her while her guard was down.

He could have. But he hadn't. He hadn't really wanted to.

Tonight was different. Tonight he needed to find her. He needed to find the woman behind the mask.

As is so common in life, he found something other than what he sought. What he witnessed changed her in his mind and his heart.

—

Selina was feeling pleased with herself. When the Gotham Animal Shelter opened up tomorrow morning, they would find a donation large enough to fund the expansion the needed to house all the extra animals that tended to appear in the winter months. They would be able to stay a no-kill shelter with some left over.

The donation included a request to use any excess to funds on additional adoption events. Once it hit the news, she would follow-up as Selina Kyle and offer for them to hold these events at her museum, a small, privately funded organization focused solely on the history of Gotham. It certainly didn't receive the visitors that the major history museums and art galleries in Gotham did, but there would be enough steady foot traffic to help find homes for many of the animals.

She had spent a few hours there, playing with some of the residents. She may be Catwoman, but she was an equal-opportunity animal lover – cats, dogs, it didn't matter. Maybe even bats, she thought to herself. Bats certainly were fun to play with, at least.

On her way home, she heard loud, angry voices pierce the relative quiet of the city at night, followed by the scream of a child. She dropped into the alley and unfurled her whip from her waist. Two burley men were dragging a young boy towards a van.

"If you're looking for someone to play with, I think you should leave the boy alone." Her voice was threatening. She cracked the whip to ensure their total focus was on her. Once they looked over, she ran her hand up her own body seductively, and returned to her usual sultry purr. "I'm probably more to your liking anyway."

The goons looked at each other, and the one still clutching the kid's arm nodded to his cohort. Just as she expected, he advanced alone, his stride arrogant. She struck, the whip wrapping around his neck. His mouth gaped in surprise, then he panicked. She let him pull back for a second, fighting against her strength and concentrating his bodyweight backwards. When his center of gravity reached the tipping point, she suddenly jumped up and flipped over him. Without anyone to pull against, the man stumbled backwards. She kicked his knee out, and when he fell, kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

One down, one to go.

"You want some of this, too, big boy?" She crooned to the other one. As soon as he released the boy to pursue her, she yelled, "Run! Go!" and watched the kid take off, but he tripped and fell, hitting the ground hard. He rolled into a ball and lay sobbing on the pavement.

The second man advanced on her. She knew he'd be expecting the whip this time, and decided to keep it hand-to-hand. She jabbed at him with a few short strikes, followed by a strong cross and hook, then stepped slightly to the right and caught him with a strike to the kidney. As he doubled over, she grabbed his lead arm, hooked her other hand around his neck and spun, driving him face first into the ground with a satisfying thunk. When he struggled to his feet, she simply grabbed his head and landed a solid knee to his jaw. The sweet spot. He was out.

Batman had started to intervene, but stopped. He knew she was more than capable of handling two thugs like that, and he could be down there in a second if she needed help. He had never been able to watch her fight before without dodging blows himself. She had obviously trained in a few martial arts styles. Boxing, aikido, karate. And that flip indicated some gymnastics. She was graceful and light on her feet, but struck with deadly power. It was almost fun to watch.

Catwoman rushed to the child's side and scooped him up in her arms. "Shhh, it's ok. I've got you, kiddo. You're safe."

Despite her best efforts to calm him, he continued to cry. "Are you hurt?" She put him on the ground and ran her hands over his body quickly, checking for injuries, but found nothing.

"Daddy," he cried, his arms tight around Catwoman's waist.

"Where's your daddy? I can take you to him."

He cried harder. "The men had him. We were both in the van. Then.." he stopped and started to sob.

"Stay here for a minute, ok kiddo?" Catwoman walked toward the van, dreading what she would find.

His father was dead. A single gunshot wound to the chest. Catwoman closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

When she returned to the boy and cradled him to her chest again, she watched Batman land on the roof of the van and peer inside.

"Batman!" the kid cried, seeing the city's hero. Catwoman handed the boy off to him and started to leave.

"Catwoman, wait." She turned and looked back at him. "I could use some help. I need to call the police, and someone needs to stay with him while I talk to the cops."

"Of course."

While they waited for Gotham's finest to arrive, they learned what had happened. The kid's name was Charlie Duncan. He and his father had just left a less-than-reputable gambling establishment when the two men had come out of nowhere and grabbed his father. Batman figured he owed a bookie some cash, and were there to collect. But when he struggled, they just shot him. The boy was now an orphan. His mother had died of an overdoes years before. He had one aunt, who lived upstate, but he hadn't seen her in several years.

Batman had gone halfway down the alley to keep the boy from hearing him brief police dispatch of the situation, but as he walked back to them, he overheard Catwoman talking to Charlie. "I know it's hard, Charlie. I do. I lost my mom and dad, too. I didn't have anywhere to go and lived on the street. I'll make sure you have somewhere safe and warm to go. I promise."

When GCPD arrived, Batman worked with the cops while Catwoman stayed with the boy. Social services soon followed, and took the child into custody. Catwoman's argument that he had some family fell on deaf ears. Until they identified who the aunt was, he would go into a home.

Catwoman knew the how the system worked. She had grown up in it herself. It would be weeks or months before they located his aunt and got him transferred out. That kid needed family sooner than that.

Catwoman watched as the social service agent drove off with the boy. "Batman, isn't there something we can do? You're Gotham's greatest detective. Can you find his aunt? We can't just leave him."

Batman had seen this same situation play out a hundred times over the years. Normally he would have just returned to his patrol and put it out of his mind. But not tonight.

"We can try." He led her to where he had the Batmobile hidden and they climbed in. Remotely accessing the Bat-Wave from the car, he quickly accessed Gotham's birth records. 6 year old boy, name: Charles Alan Duncan. The birth record was quickly retrieved, and he used the parents' names to track their next of kin. In a mere 5 minutes, Batman had identified a Susan Preston, the boy's aunt who lived just over an hour from Gotham.

"We have to call her. Tell her about Charlie. She can come get him right away," Catwoman urged. Batman pressed a few more buttons and a key pad appeared on the screen. He dialed, and as it started to ring, he nodded towards Catwoman.

"Me?"

"Do you want this voice on the other side of the phone saying your brother is dead and your nephew needs to be picked up?" he growled.

He had a point. Catwoman's normally sultry voice was instead kind when Susan picked up. Catwoman carefully broke the news, and told her that Charline needed help. When Susan said her car was in the shop and couldn't get to Gotham for at least a couple days, Catwoman muted the phone. "I have money. I can hire her a car, they'll bring her here and back."

Batman looked at Catwoman. This had struck a nerve with her. Catwoman began speaking with Susan again, and he opened another window on the screen. Moments later, he put his hand on Catwoman's arm. "A car is on the way." Catwoman told Susan to look for a car, that it would be there soon.

When she ended the call, Catwoman sighed, and slumped back in the seat. "Thank you, Bats. How will I get you the money for the car?"

"It's taken care of." She smiled and squeezed his hand.

"How do you do this every night? I would be a wreck."

"I don't. I can't get emotionally involved in the cases. I stop whatever is happening and move on. There's just too many." He looked over at her. "It was good to have you here tonight. You reminded me why I'm doing this." They watched each other for a few moments, when Catwoman suddenly shook her head and got out of the car.

"Well, its been great, Bats." Her voice was once again seductive and sassy. "Let's do it again sometime. But next time, less dead guys and orphaned kids, more making out." And just like that, she was gone.

Batman pulled the tracking receiver out of his belt and watched the blip on the screen. The beacon he had slipped onto her while they were in the car was working perfectly.

He hung far back, letting her create some distance, and followed her uptown. She landed on the roof of a nice apartment building and swung down to the the first balcony. Opening the french doors, she slipped inside and closed them behind her. Convenient, he thought. Rooftop access and a way in and out of the building where no one could see her.

Batman waited a couple of minutes, the followed her path, crouching in the shadows on the balcony. From his vantage point, he could see her standing in the master bath, still in her suit, the goggles tossed away and the cowl pulled back.

Selina splashed water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror. What was happening to her? Why had she needed to help that kid? She didn't care about others. She was out for herself.

But that wasn't exactly true, was it? The Gotham animal shelter and the city's other animal charities were often funded by her donations. Whenever she passed a homeless man on the street following a cash heist, she always threw a hefty amount their way.

When exactly had she started to care, she wondered. This wasn't her. It wasn't. She only looked out for herself.

But tonight had felt good.

She had made it out. Others should, too.