Author's note: Just a reminder, this one is a continuation of the oneshot posted in chapter 3. Hope you guys like it!

Only one more to finish this batcat week batch of fics! ^^

Homemade dynamite

Bruce had never been that hands-y, and Selina was torn between loving it and wanting to punch him in the face. She also wasn't supposed to get turned on by this new version of him, but bad kind of suited him. If only she hadn't known his real self, she could enjoy this better.

They had danced to a couple of songs, and then he took her to the bar, told her to order whatever she wanted to drink.

"On the house," he said over her shoulder standing awfully close, his chest to her back and Selina couldn't help but smirk. "I like that dress," he practically whispered, though he said it loud enough for more people to hear.

Selina turned her head just enough to look at him, caught his eyes with a mischievous glare.

"I bet you do," she said.

Bruce smiled. There was something almost predatory about his smile and his eyes and Selina was digging it. On the back of her mind, she tried to remember that she was there on a mission, but damn, she was digging it way too much.

The bartender put her drink on the counter, and she used the distraction to try and put her priorities in order. The drink was sweet and strong, and Selina sipped it carefully, hoping that she looked as sophisticated as Babs did when she had one of those colorful things in hand.

"Aren't you going to ask about my work?" she asked making sure to mark the last word with a raised eyebrow. Bruce shrugged and signaled to the bartender as he stood in front of her, and immediately got him a drink too.

"I don't care about your work, Selina," he said sipping his drink and looking badass doing it. Internally, she beat herself up for considering him badass for such a stupid thing, but on the outside, she just cocked her head.

"You don't?" Because honestly, that was some big news. He shook his head no.

"I mean, a girl's gotta shop, isn't that what you told me?"

Selina nodded slowly, amused.

"Never thought you were listening, though," she said, feeling his hand on her thigh again, sliding up under the fabric and inching for her switchblade.

Bruce chuckled, a low rumble on his chest. He was so close, it was intoxicating, and Selina had to settle her drink back on the counter next to his. She was almost done with it anyway.

"Ah, Selina," he said. The way he rolled her name, though, made her a little weak (and she did not, for the love of God, like to feel weak). It made her senses go higher. "I'm always listening to you. That's why he put you up to this."

He got the switchblade from her hiding spot, but he wasn't quick enough, for she twisted his wrist with one hand and retrieved her knife with the other, pressing the blade to his neck. Nothing personal, just her natural response to being threatened, and in two seconds there were four guns pointed at her – three security guards and the bartender.

"Didn't your associates teach you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?" Bruce joked, not the last bit bothered by the blade on his neck. He even gestured for the guards to stand down. Around them, people pretended nothing was happening, the music still played.

"Fuck you," Selina shot back and he smirked.

"Hey, I'm just trying to be nice," he said.

"No offence, but you're not striking me as nice person right now," she replied, throwing his own words at him, knowing for a fact that he caught it. Selina retrieved the blade, but the guns were still pointing at her. "What's your M.O. here, Bruce?"

He looked right into her eyes and for a split second she caught a glimpse of the boy she once knew – he looked a lot like the lost, grieving kid in that alley what? Four years ago? And it broke her heart a bit – and she understood exactly what was going on behind that bravado, exactly what she should do, even though she knew it'd be super hard to crack him and get to that core.

Bruce blinked, and it was gone. Back with this new brat billionaire, front page of all the tabloids. He leaned closer at the same time as he waved the guards off, and for the first time ever in all the time they'd known each other, Bruce stole a kiss from her.

"Go home with me," he said looking into her eyes. "And maybe I'll tell you."

"Maybe?" she echoed skeptically. "No."

"No?"

"No," Selina said again. "Not your place. You're too comfortable there. I pick."

His hands went to her hips, one of his legs between hers as he kissed her again. She still held her weapon tightly, though the blade was safely retreated, as she grabbed his arms. He felt surprisingly muscular under her touch, his kiss rather demanding. He needed her more than she needed him, and they both knew that.

It was a cycle, they understood to some level, hard to break.

"Deal," Bruce said when they finally separated to catch their breaths.

Selina smiled and pushed him back just enough to be able to hop out of that stool, and then took his hand in hers and guided him out of the club. She knew exactly where to go.