A/N I know this is a day late, but I really did try! I finished the chapter at about ten last night, and then I wandered around for an hour and a half trying to find Internet! (That does include the time it took for me to get lost several times—everything looks so different in the dark—and by the time I got home I was so flustered it took two bacon and tomato sandwiches to soothe my nerves.) Today, when I left to go to the library, it was in pouring rain, and in the walk from the parking lot to the building, I got soaked. Then the computer I logged on to wouldn't recognize my USB drive, and before I could log onto another one, the library closed! But then my bad luck finally ran out, because the English building was open and the grad student lab unlocked. Thank goodness! I might have started sobbing right there on the sidewalk otherwise.

Congratulations to Nightarcher210 for being the first to correctly guess Sir Gawain and the Green Knight! The prize for the contest is a Batman one shot which I will write to her specifications. However, everybody gets to read it.

This chapter might read a little weirdly because although it is longer than the last one I hit a writer's block and wanted to go ahead and post rather than delay the update until I work through it. So consider this as part one, and the next chapter will hold the missing scenes.

Finally, I'm sorry about the confusion at the end of last chapter. The note Selina left for Bruce was the number 8, which was supposed to be her rating for the kiss, but I thought as I was writing it that it was going to be confusing, but I was in a hurry and didn't fix the problem. Clearly, I should have!

Chapter 14

But the lady, as love would allow her no rest,
And pursuing ever the purpose that pricked her heart,
Was awake with the dawn, and went to his chamber
In a fairflowing mantle that fell to the earth,
All edged and embellished with ermines fine;
No hood on her head, but heavy with gems
Were her fillet and the fret that confined her tresses;
Her face and her fair throat freely displayed;
Her bosom all but bare, and her back as well,
She comes in at the chamber-door, and closes it with care,
Throws wide a window—then waits no longer,
But hails him thus airily with her artful words, with cheer:
"Ah, man, how can you sleep?
The morning is so clear!"
Though dreams have drowned him deep,
He cannot choose but hear.

--Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

"Grandmother! I cannot take Jimmy to Wayne Manor!" Barbara exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm going over to do homework, I can't drag a third grader along."

Jane gave her granddaughter a hard look. "We've been over this, Babs. He can't come with me because they don't allow children in the salon, and he can't sit in my car like he usually does, because you're borrowing it. Of course, you could always tell your father you've changed your mind about spending the afternoon with him and Sarah and postpone your studying."

"So is he supposed to sit in the car all afternoon?"

"I'm certain they have a corner where he can sit and play his Gameboy without disturbing anyone. Now, are you ready to go or not?"

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Barbara muttered, pulling on her coat. After she'd told her dad, somewhat misleadingly, that yesterday's shopping trip had gone well, he'd announced that he'd been given tickets to a matinee at the Gotham playhouse. He was taking Sarah and he was sure he could get another ticket if Babs wanted to come along. Sarah hadn't had a chance yet to tell him about their bitter exchange at Gladelands, but Barbara was certain she would the moment she had his ear, and Barbara didn't want to be around for the aftermath. So she had given the first plausible excuse she could think of, which was that she had to work on a school project, and when her dad suggested that they at least all have dinner together, she was forced to elaborate on the lie by saying she was going to Wayne Manor, and there was no telling how long things would take. Which led to her having to borrow her grandmother's car so that she wouldn't be riding the train alone if she stayed until after dark, which meant she had to drop her grandmother off at her exclusive hair salon and take Jimmy. Trevor, her usual standby ride, had gone to L.A. with his dad on a weekend business trip, which was why she hadn't used him as an excuse in the first place.

Extremely irritated with the whole situation, she delivered Jane to her appointment and drove on in silence, except for angry mutters at other drivers who got in her way. Finally, a small voice from the backseat asked, "Are you mad at me, Babs?"

She sighed heavily. "No, Jimmy, I'm not mad at you. I'm just in a bad mood."

"I promise to be good. I won't make any noise."

"I know. You're good at being good, Jimmy." She turned her head to smile at him over her shoulder. "I'll try to stop being so grumpy." She returned her focus to the road and double checked her directions. "Wow, this is really out on the edge of the city, isn't it?" In fact, when they finally got off the freeway, she wasn't even certain they were in the same city. The usual cramped city streets she knew had disappeared, replaced with the impressive entrances to gated communities. Those, in turn, gave way to the snow covered stretches of a country club golf course, and, finally, a stone wall that seemed to stretch endlessly on. She almost missed the gate, set back from the road on a short drive lined with evergreen shrubs whose careful manicuring was evident even under the snow.

The gate itself was massive, black wrought iron with an ornate design twisting in its center. Barbara stopped in front of it, uncertain how to proceed. Was there a doorbell she should ring? A muffled voice outside her window made her jump, and then she saw the speaker set into an iron stand that matched the gate. Rolling down her window, she was in time to hear a polite voice repeat, "May I have your name, please?"

"Barbara Gordon."

"Thank you, Miss Gordon."

The black gates swung silently inward, revealing a winding drive lined with tall trees. Barbara drove slowly forward. "Toto, we're not in Gotham anymore," she muttered.

"Babs, is this a castle?" Jimmy whispered.

"Yeah, Jimmy, I think it might be." She rounded a curve and hit the brakes. "Whoa."

The trees ended, and a stately stone front, almost foreboding beneath the overcast winter sky, rose majestically over smooth lawns of snow so pristine it looked unreal. For a hysterical moment, Barbara wondered if the gardeners had to trim the snow as well as the hedges, and then she edged the car forward until it rested exactly in front of the broad ascending steps.

As if by magic, a uniformed valet appeared to open her door. Barbara climbed out, smiling uncertainly. He held out his hand, "May I have your keys, Miss Gordon?" She handed them over automatically and wondered if he was the same man who had opened the gate for her, or if there was another one in an identical uniform, who did nothing all day but wait for people to drive up.

"Thanks," Barbara said firmly, smiling. She took Jimmy's hand and walked confidently up the steps, suddenly glad he was with her and that she didn't have to face the imposing door at the top alone.

It swung open just as they reached the top step. "Good afternoon, Miss Gordon," said an elderly man in an impeccable black suit.

At least she knew who this was. Her father occasionally spoke with approval of Alfred Pennyworth, and it was common speculation that he ran the Wayne empire in his guise as butler. "Hi," she replied, relaxing a little beneath his kind smile and stepping into the warmth of the house. She noticed his gaze, inquiring but polite, resting on Jimmy and hastily explained, "This is my brother. There wasn't anyone to watch him at home, so I had to bring him, but I promise he won't be any trouble. He's really very good, for eight. I … I hope it's not a problem."

"Not at all, Miss Gordon. There are still a few ways for a boy of eight to enjoy himself in this house. Now, if you'll follow me, Master Richard has instructed me to show you up to the schoolroom."

Master Richard? You have got to be kidding me.

"You do like plays, don't you?" Gordon asked in sudden concern as they sat waiting for the first curtain to go up.

"Oh yes. I mean, I don't spend every weekend at the theater, but I always enjoy a good show." Sarah smiled at him over the top of her program.

"You seemed a little quiet. I was afraid you'd come along just to be polite."

She smiled again and shook her head, but offered no other explanation for her subdued mood. Gordon was wondering whether he ought to probe her about it when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and groaned as he looked at the number. "One afternoon, that's all I ask!" he declared. "Hopefully this won't take long," he added for Sarah's benefit before standing and edging his way out of the aisle.

In the hallway outside he flipped open the phone and snapped, "O'Hara, what is it?"

"I'm really sorry, Chief … Commissioner …"

"Skip the formalities, what's wrong?"

"The Gotham Museum of Art's been robbed."

"In broad daylight?" Gordon asked in disbelief.

"No, sir. That is, they don't think so."

"They don't think so?"

"They didn't realize the stuff was gone until today. But their best guess is last night. Or possibly Thursday."

Resigned, Gordon asked, "What was taken?"

"Well, that's the bad part, sir."

"The first part wasn't bad?"

"The pieces taken didn't belong to GMA. They were part of a borrowed collection from Egypt."

"So what you're telling me is, we may have an international incident on our hands?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Great. Just great," Gordon groaned, resting his head against the wall. A passing usher looked at him curiously, and he lowered his voice. "What, exactly, was taken, and why didn't they know it was gone?"

"The collection was delivered Thursday afternoon. Two of the curators inventoried everything and then locked it in the museum vault. They opened the vault today to start getting the stuff ready for exhibit, which is when they found the collection's prize pieces missing. The collection as whole is made up of sacred artifacts, things used in temples and stuff like that, but everything taken was jewelry, and it was all connected to this one goddess, uh, I've got it written down here … Bastet. She's the cat goddess."

"The cat goddess," Gordon repeated. "Do you think …"

"It seems like an awfully big coincidence, sir."

"And we've got nothing on her," Gordon mumbled as he hung up and headed back for his seat, stumbling a little in the now dark theater.

"Any disasters?" Sarah whispered as he sat down beside her.

"No disasters," he muttered back. "Just a little problem with animal control."

Batman finished securing the last mobster's bonds and tossed him on to the top of the heap. Just because there was a serial killer on the loose, it didn't mean the crest of city's crime came to a halt, and although this particular gang had stayed beneath the police radar for a over a year, they'd recently gotten ambitious with their little drug racket. They'd had a meeting that night to discuss possibly breaking into the business in a second city, and Batman had picked them off as they emerged afterwards. And after the weeks of frustrated investigation into the Riddler, it felt good to be doing something concretely useful.

He picked up a cell phone that had fallen from the pocket of one of them during the struggle, dialed the police station and left the connected line next to the heap of groaning captives. He was about to unhook his grapple gun for a quick exit up when a voice purred, "Well, what have we here?"

Dropping into a defensive crouch, he saw Catwoman leaning casually over the rail of a fire escape, examining his handiwork.

"You should really pick on someone your own size," she added. "Six against one is hardly fair."

Straightening up, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, staring up at her. If he lunged, she would run away, beginning an exhausting and hazardous chase that would no doubt end with her escape. If he was going to catch her, he was going to have to try a different game.

"You could have jumped in," he growled.

"The game was over before I got here," she said with mock sadness. "But next time, I'll be sure to help even the odds."

They stared at each other for a minute and then he demanded, "What do you want?"

"I was looking for you. I didn't have anyone to play with and I was bored."

"I'm afraid I don't have time to play."

"That's too bad, I—"

The end of her sentence was lost as a terrific boom rattled the windows and caused the lid of a nearby dumpster to crash down. Out the end of the alley, they could see a new orange glow adding to the dirty night sky.

"Now that sounds exciting!" Catwoman exclaimed, leaping up on the rail of the fire escape and peering toward the flames. "I'll see you there." In a moment she was gone, slithering up the ladder and disappearing on the roof.

Batman didn't wait to watch her exit; he was already running.

The fire was only a few blocks away and when he arrived the fire truck sirens were still wailing in the distance. An apartment building was burning brightly, from a gas line explosion by the smell of it, and people were pouring out of the neighboring buildings to crowd the street. Flames engulfed the front door of the burning building, but he saw a few dazed people staggering around the side, from the fire escapes.

Batman shoved his way through the crowd and ran between the buildings. No flames were visible here, but unnatural heat seeped through his suit. Frantic people were crawling down the fire escapes, shoving each other in their haste. Three stories up, a woman screamed as she lost her grip on the ladder and fell, and he was just in time break her fall. Dropping her in a bank of snow, he shot his grapple gun up and entered through a window that was above the fire.

Indoors the heat was intense, and he knew he would have only minutes before the entire building collapsed. The apartment he entered was empty as were the other two on this landing. Down the stairwell, he could see the flames licking up the steps from the second level. If anyone was down there it was too late to help them. Grimly, he raced upward.

Floor four was empty, but on five he discovered an elderly woman in a wheelchair, her head bowed over the worn Bible she clutched. She looked up in surprise as he burst in. "Is that you devil? I was expecting somebody else." She shrieked as he tossed her over his shoulder and ran for the window, delivering a few surprisingly powerful whacks with the word of God. "Put me down, Satan!"

On the ground he thrust her, still fighting, into the arms of a shocked firefighter and then shot back up and continued his frantic race through the apartments, feeling the structure shudder beneath him as beams buckled and gave way, knowing he wouldn't have time to search every place. On floor six, he found a terrified man paralyzed on the window sill while the firefighters holding the net below shouted at him to jump. Batman gave him a ruthless push and was on to the next apartment before the guy's terrified scream had ended.

As he burst into the first apartment on floor seven he could hear a child screaming, but before he could go more than two steps inside, a piece of wallboard fell across his path, its interior flaming. The room's furnishings exploded with fire, and he was frantically searching for a path through when a dark shape appeared on the other side of the flames. "Catch!" a woman's voice shouted, and then a small body was sailing over the inferno into his waiting hands. Tucking the screaming toddler beneath his arm he ran up a flight of stairs that threatened to give way beneath his feet and found a clear window, with, miraculously, a fireman's net waiting beneath it. Fervently hoping the kid wouldn't be hurt by the fall, he dropped it and turned to try and race through one more apartment, when a voice at the open window said, "Everything above is clear."

He spun back and found Catwoman clinging to the sill. An explosion shook the building and one of her hands slipped. He darted forward and caught her, dragging her up and over the sill.

"What are you dragging me back in here for?" she demanded, shaking off his arm and climbing back onto the window. "It's a little hot even for my tastes." With that, she gave a powerful leap, landing on the low roof of a neighboring building. Batman followed, using his cape to glide a few feet beyond her, and as his feet touched the roof, the building they had just escaped from collapsed with a roar. He ducked a piece of glowing debris, and when he straightened, found that Catwoman had lunged backward to within a few feet of him. He would never have a better opportunity to attack, but he hesitated to move so quickly against someone who had just fought with, instead of against, him, and then she turned.

"How was that for a first date?" she asked, echoing in some way his own thoughts. "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

He lunged and she ducked away, taunting, "Same old, same old. But if you really want to give me a goodnight kiss, well, how can I refuse?" And with that she spun in and delivered an explosive kick to his solar plexus that caused him to stagger backwards, bright lights flashing before his eyes. When they cleared she was, of course, gone.

Heat splashed in his face and Bruce flew out of bed, ready to face the threat. He found Selina Kyle pointing a gun at him, and as he met her eyes, she pulled the trigger.

A stream of hot water dampened his t-shirt, and she laughed. "Convincing, isn't it?" She dangled the all too realistic water gun by its handgrip. "Lex got it as a party favor in Mexico."

Bruce dragged a hand over his wet face. "You scared the crap out of me."

"It's a good thing I wasn't really trying to assassinate you."

"No kidding." The adrenaline rush faded and he was left feeling exhausted. It had been nearly six by the time he had returned to the hotel after going home to scrub the smoke from his body and assume the appearance of a playboy who had been partying hard somewhere else, and then he'd had to get a desk clerk to let him into his room because he'd somehow left his keycard back at the Manor. Now it was—he glanced at the clock—7:58. He fell across the bed and buried his face in his pillow. "I'm too tired to play blackjack," he said in a muffled voice. "I'm too tired to do anything."

"I suppose I'll have to sit in your Jacuzzi all by myself then."

Bruce sat up, but she was already in the other room. The Jacuzzi had its own little section of the suite, surrounded by green plants and soft frosted windows, and by the time he got there she was sitting in the water as the jets bubbled up around her. Her hair was held up by an elaborate gold headpiece and a golden net, and she rested her neck against the edge, her eyes closed in a perfect expression of relaxation.

He stood there, watching her, and at last she said without opening her eyes, "You don't have to get in, but stop gawping like a Neanderthal. You're throwing off my karma."

"Sorry," he apologized and lowered himself into the hot water, still in the boxers and t-shirt he had worn to bed. It was fortunate he was notorious for swimming fully dressed because there was a very noticeable bruise in the shape of a boot print decorating his stomach. He settled back and imitated her, with his head resting on the side and his eyes closed.

A splash across the bridge of his nose brought his eyes back open and he saw Selina smiling mischievously, the muzzle of her gun sticking just above the surface of the water. Growling, he reached over to pull it from her unresisting hand and toss it over the edge.

"You don't like guns?"

"No," he mumbled, sinking back and closing his eyes, waiting to see what she would do next.

"Bruce, you are unbelievable," she declared after a moment.

He looked at her wry expression and asked, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"All weekend, you've been trying to get me in here, and now that you have me where you seemed to want me you sit there looking half dead, with your clothes on."

"It's a bad thing then."

"Bruce, do I have to do everything?" she asked in exasperation.

"No," he replied softly, and reached out a hand. Meeting his eyes seriously, she grasped it, and he tugged her gently across the small pool. She floated across and balanced on his lap, sitting on her heels. Now that she was close, he could see how the brief lines of her swimsuit hugged her curves, leaving enticing stretches of skin bare. One tiny voice of reason warned him that if he didn't want this to get out of control, he should stop, now, but it was drowned out the moment he placed a hand at the base of her neck and let his fingers trail down the silky skin of her back.

"I found an apartment yesterday," Selina said, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning forward so that her forehead rested against his.

"Did you?" he asked, a little absently, as his hand drifted down, over the curves of her waist and hip.

"Yes, I'll be settled in in a couple of weeks, after my trip to Metropolis."

That caught his attention, "You're leaving for Metropolis?"

"Yes, business. But it won't be long. And when I get back …"

Her lips just brushed his as she spoke, and it was beginning to make him crazy. "When you get back?" he prompted automatically, one hand going up to loosen the gold net that confined her hair.

"You should come over for dinner."

He couldn't take it anymore. Curving his hand around the back of her neck, he purposefully closed the last centimeter between their lips, but she turned her head and he ended up with his mouth mashed against her ear.

"Will you?" she insisted.

"Will I what?" he asked, dazed and frustrated.

"Will you come over for dinner?"

"Yes, yes, I promise," he said fervently, trying a second time for her mouth.

She dodged again. "I don't believe you. You're always promising you'll go places, and then you forget to show up."

He caught her jaw in his hand. "I won't forget."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but I'd better give you a reminder." She reached up and with a practiced twist released her hair ornament. "Keep this for me until you see me again. And be careful with it, it's old."

"I'll treat it like a baby," he swore, stuffing it into a convenient plant so that he wouldn't drop it in the water.

"I think that's a good thing," she responded, and then she slipped her legs around him and settled against his chest. He caught his breath as she found the hem of his t-shirt and began to pull it upward. "Bruce, nobody, absolutely nobody wears a t-shirt in a Jacuzzi."

Without a second thought he lifted his arms and let her tug the wet fabric over his head, thinking in a very faraway corner of his mind that he told lies every day, and he could surely make one up to cover a silly bruise. Selina tossed the t-shirt onto the floor with a splatter, and then, and only then, did she allow him to claim her mouth.

He kissed her urgently, crushing her against him, and the drowning sensation that came when she was in his arms washed over him. They slipped deeper into the water, and he thought that this time he might actually drown, and then he couldn't think about it anymore …

"Bruce!"

The furious shout cut through the silence of the suite, and he jerked upright breaking the kiss, shocked, to see Richard Grayson.

To Be Continued

A/N I think that's the best cliffhanger I've had in a while. Review, review! Next update is scheduled for next Saturday.