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.

We finally get some plot going in this chapter – and some serious heat.

Batman: Revelations

Chapter Six

You...You really are incorruptible, aren't you? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self -righteousness, and I won't kill you because you are to much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever. -The Dark Knight

The Joker sat at a table in the Iceberg Lounge, humming with glee. This was it. He had finally found a way to beat the Bat.

All the other tables in the bar were empty. The lights were dim and the smell of alcohol permeated the air. It was 3am, an ungodly time for most, but what did time matter to the insane? Besides, it was neutral ground for he and his companions, and what they were discussing had to wait until closing time. Batman had sources and informants everywhere. This conversation couldn't leak back to him.

Across from the Joker sat Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, and Harvey Two-Face Dent.

"None of us tend to play well with others. Well, with the exception of you, my dual-hatted friend, you have your own built in partner." Joker leaned back in his chair, pulling hard on a lit cigar, and propped his feet up. "But I called you all here today for a celebration."

"That's right, Puddin'. What a day!" Harley Quinn, hovering over Joker's shoulder as usual, did a little pirouette.

"What do you want, Clown?" Harvey growled.

"Quite simply, my Devious Duo, I want to break the Bat. And not just in the Bane sort of 'I broke his back just for him to return stronger than ever' kind of way. As much fun as that was, this time, we break his spirit and drive him mad."

Scarecrow leaned forward in his chair and smirked. Now they were speaking his language. "We've all tried to beat him, Joker. What makes you so confident you'll succeed this time?"

"Batman may claim to be a solitary creature, but he isn't, is he? Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin, that alien freak from Metropolis, that archer from Starling City. He's got quite the network. The Batman has a heart."

Harvey and Scarecrow cut their eyes at each other. This was nothing they hadn't heard before.

Joker reached beneath the table, and pulled a dead bird out of a bag, and plopped it on the table, followed by a crowbar covered in dried blood. Harley sniffed, wiped crocodile tears from her cheeks, and placed a daisy on the body.

"Everyone knows Robin is dead. I beat him within an inch of his life, left him tied to a chair, then blew up the building he was in. As hard as Batman tried, he didn't find him in time. It was quite a game!" Cackling laugher wracked his body for a few moments.

When he finally caught his breath, he continued. "And he always comes to save the city. Time and again. No matter what we do. We beat him, he comes back. Bane breaks his back, he comes back. We shoot him, he comes back. He's like a damned cockroach that just won't die."

"But Bats is a person somewhere under that cowl. He survives physical punishment, but can we drive him batty?"

Crane suddenly knew where this was going; his knowledge of psychology churning in his brain. "What makes him do it? Keep coming back? What made him don the cape and cowl in the first place? What messed him up enough in the first place to make him turn vigilante. He's a costumed freak. Just like us."

"But he's got that cardinal rule. Never kill. Look at the death and destruction we've caused in Gotham time and time again. He catches us, locks us up in Arkham, we escape. At the end of the day, it is really Batman's unyeilding personal vow not to kill that is killing the city. Can we keep rubbing that same wound raw, pushing him until he snaps? Can we make that switch flip the other way? Could we make him don that costume and join us?"

"Aw, my straw-filled friend, you stole my thunder!" Joker hopped up onto the table and kicked the dead bird off the table and onto the floor, where Harley stomped it into the ground.

"What else other than the little dead birdie and his other costumed cohorts does he care about? Gotham. He has a pesky habit of saving everyone he can."

At this point, even Two-Face seemed interested, this could work. "We hit the city, and hard. No more elaborate plots. No more showy finishes. Maximum destruction. Make him feel every death in Gotham."

Joker spoke again. "One after another, we strike. He'll never know what's coming next. We push him until he snaps and breaks that vow. Once he does, it'll destroy him." Joker's grin grew. "If we succeed, he'll lose his mind. Maybe he becomes a new playmate for us. Vigilante to villain."

Scarecrow glanced at Harvey. "Much like you."

"And if we fail, we've had a hell of a lot of fun!" Joker's voice was absolute glee.

Even knowing for this plan to work would require the Batman to kill someone – most likely one of them - they were all just crazy enough themselves to agree. And so they hatched a plan to break the mind of Batman.

—-

Following the night at the gala, Bruce was true to his word, she thought. He made up for his rather - heated - behavior at the event by being the perfect gentlemen.

He was charming. He took her to the theater and the opera, the best seats in the house. The nights they didn't go out on the town, they at least met for a drink or a coffee. They spent hours talking and laughing.

Was he courting her, she wondered? Actual, traditional courtship? He even called her to ask how her day was going.

ruce was the best thing to happen to Selina Kyle in years, she thought. He'd hold her hand, his thumb softly rubbing circles on her skin. They'd snuggle close, huddled under a shared umbrella as they strolled through an old quarter of the city. It was a warm, comfortable feeling, but one thing bothered her.

He was such a gentleman, much to her chagrin, that he didn't even kiss her. Not once. This behavior from the man who had almost taken her against a wall in a room separated from a gala full of people by just an unlocked door, the same man who was a known womanizer and playboy. It was confusing and had her off balance, even while she treasured their time together.

But just suddenly, he would change. He would go from Prince Charming to a flake. A date broken when she was already waiting for him, an emergency at the office during late hours that he would rush off to deal with. Selina was convinced she'd never figure him out.

Despite the contradictions, the reckless passion, followed by perfect courtship interspersed with inconsistency, she couldn't get him off her mind. Things just fit between them.

But where did Catwoman fit in this picture, she wondered.

–

Across town, Bruce was also struggling. He was doing his damnedest to develop the relationship with Selina while protecting his secret. Bruce wooed Selina Kyle while Batman desperately tryed to sate his need to touch her with Catwoman.

She made him happy. Even Alfred had noted how much he had been smiling in the past couple of weeks.

He wanted her badly. Bruce wanted to feel Selina hot and out of control in his arms, looking at him as the man, not as the Bat. But he also wanted her there the next morning, to wake up with her still in his arms, and have the simple kind of love that enjoyed sharing coffee and the newspaper in the kitchen.

He wanted it all, but still didn't trust her — or himself — enough to reveal the truth, at least yet. She was still a criminal, he still the caped and coweled arm of the law.

Then, despite all his best efforts, all the walls he had erected, designed to trap his emotions inside, came crashing down.

Batman and Catwoman were at it again, lobbing lighthearted insults back and forth on a rooftop downtown. They had chased each other across a series of rooftops for the better part of an hour, interspersing jumps with a sparring match. She teased him, first dangling a diamond necklace she had lifted off a mobster's wife, then with the soft brush her lips. Batman kept pulling her to him, just for her to escape again, her laugh genuine and rich as she evaded him. But when she raised her goggles and watched him with eyes that shot green fire, he snapped.

Strong arms locked her back to his chest. One remained around her waist while the other roughly caressed one breast, then the other.

Selina felt the change in him immediately. Gone was the friendly game, challenging each other to the limits. This was possession. When he pulled one glove off with his teeth, reached for the zipper of her suit, she surrendered.

Finally, she thought. How long had she wanted this? How long had they both yearned?

He slipped the ungloved hand inside her suit, sucking in his breath sharply when he realized she wore nothing underneath.

Now, he thought, I need to touch her. He quickly removed his other glove and pulled her suit off just enough that he could rain hot kisses against the back of her neck, across, down to her shoulder.

Her breasts felt full and heavy under his hand. She moaned when he rolled her nipples between his fingers. Selina shuddered against him, the throbbing at the junction of her thighs intensifying. She was going to die if he didn't touch her soon, and arched back against him, encouraging his other hand, which had been roving from hip to hip, to venture lower.

When she felt his fingers reach her, she cried out. He deftly spread her wetness across her folds, then up to her sensitive nub, and she almost came right then and there. Her hips bucked against him and he could hear his labored breathing hot against her ear.

He reached down further, slipping two fingers deep inside her, moving in and out, driving her wild. When his thumb started to caress her clit as his fingers moved in and out, she spiraled out of control, the intensity of her feelings overwhelming her. Her knees went weak, and she surrendered her weight to him. He caught her in his steely grip, nipping again at her shoulder.

"Look at me, love. I want to see your beautiful eyes when I make you come," his voice was husky, softer than his normal growl.

She turned in his arms, and even through the haze of her passion, she wished she could could see his eyes as he could see hers.

Selina reached for his armor, seeking the latches, desperate to really touch him, without the kevlar, feel the heat of him, but he stilled her hands with his own. "No, not yet."

Batman roughly peeled her suit from her body and drank in her perfect body. Long, lean, and athletic. Strong. It drove him wild.

"So beautiful," he groaned, falling to his knees before her. Her breasts were soft and firm in his hands, and when he took one nipple into his mouth and began to suck while kneading the soft flesh of her backside, he wondered how he had possibly have waited so many years for this.

Selina writhed in his arms, consumed by her desire. She fumbled at the armor on his chest, finally unlatching it. When it fell to the ground, she pushed it out of the way.

Now, he thought. The need for her was all-consuming. He reached around, pulled his cape from his shoulders, and laid it out on in one swift movement.

Her hands slid beneath the base layer he wore and she swore the heat of his body was going to burn her. Tight muscles bunched and coiled as she explored, then pulled the top over his still-cowled head. His skin was satin over steel, but the years of the damage he had sustained were written on his body. He looked like a warrior.

He pushed her down onto his cape, kissing his way down her body as she bucked beneath him.

When he tongue touched her, first lapping, then tracing lazy circles over her most sensitive spot, her head began to swim. She was dizzy from the feel of him.

He looked up and met her gaze. "Come for me. Let me hear you scream." And when his fingers began their assault on her senses, in and out, firm and demanding, she obeyed.

She splintered into a thousand pieces from the feel of him, pulsing against his fingers, crying out into the night.

He was throbbing painfully, his body screaming for his own release, but he stopped, knowing they had gone as far as they should go. Instead of plunging inside her heat and driving them both to a fiery peak as he had fantasized about again and again, he fought to regain his composure, tracing lazy kisses back up her body. Immensely pleased with himself, he looked down at her, still panting softly, eyes closed.

When she finally had the energy to open her eyes, she was greeted with a purely male, arrogant smile. Mmmmm, she purred, and reached for the waistband of his pants, confused as he once again stopped her hands.

"Not now, love," he growled. "Not here. This was just for you. When I finally take you and we find our pleasure together, it's going to be in a bed. We'll be comfortable and warm. And we'll be looking into each others eyes," he reached to run a finger under the edge of her mask. "Without these."

His voice was deep, the words were intense, yet caring. They held a promise of a future, of truth.

With a rush, her head cleared. Where passion had recently controlled her, guilt flooded in. Bruce.

This had been coming for years. Catwoman and Batman had been dancing this dance for as long as she could remember. It had always been the highlight of her life.

Her body was still flushed from pleasure. Never had she had an orgasm as intense. But in her mind, she could see Bruce's smiling face, feel the warmth and comfort of their hands intertwined.

What am I doing? She was panicked. She's cheating on him. Cheating on Bruce with Batman. But she was also Catwoman. Was she cheating on Batman with Bruce?

She couldn't control herself with Batman. They had history, they trusted each other. After years, their relationship had finally progressed. He had trusted her with his emotions and the passion was incredible. But Bruce was a good man. Sweet, kind. He made her happy. He was the type of man Selina could love. But could he accept Catwoman?

And that's when she knew. She was close. So close to falling for him.

Batman watched her eyes become stormy with emotions and wished he could see her face behind the mask. What was wrong?

"I…that was….we can't," she stammered, looking away, and quickly pulled her suit back on. "This can't happen again. I'm…he…" She grabbed her goggles, but before replacing them on her head, looked at him with pleading eyes. Then she fled. Catwoman paused only for a second to look back at him before she jumped to the next roof, and then she was gone.

He, she had said. Bruce. It had to be. She felt guilty.

Idiot, he chastised himself. How could you have put her in this position? Batman knew who she was. But she didn't know him. In her mind, she was struggling to balance the relationship with both of them.

And in that moment, he realized how badly he wanted to keep her from harm. He had hurt her and felt the knife in his own heart. He practically burned with the need to tell her the truth. It took every ounce of self-control he had left to keep from ripping his mask off just to assure her everything was alright. But he couldn't. Not yet.