A/N- You guys are absolutely amazing. Thanks for everything. Lyrics this time are from "Lost In You."

Pieces

Chapter Six

I'm lost in you

Everywhere I run

Everywhere I turn, I'm finding something new

Lost in you, something I can't fight

I cannot escape

I could spend my life lost in you

Selina smoothed down her bright red silk wrap dress, checking her make-up in the bathroom mirror of the restaurant. Her features looked too big and exaggerated to her, her bright red lipstick almost garish. She hadn't worn make-up in a month. Hell, she'd barely even gotten fully dressed in a month. Bruce had rented them a private villa on the outskirts of Rome, and while to Bruce it probably looked like a modest little summer home, Selina still had to remind herself sometimes that she was living there, not casing the place for a job. It had sprawling grounds and gardens out front, the hills of the Italian countryside for a backyard, and her personal favorite feature, an indoor pool that took up almost the entire bottom floor. Bruce had driven up to the villa their first night, casually telling Selina that it might be nice to finally have a place entirely to themselves. Selina found herself in total agreement, and without a word between them, they both knew exactly what they should do with all of this newfound isolation— they'd barely even made it through the front door that night before they started ripping each other's clothes off, having sex up against the wall of the entryway in between wall hangings of priceless artwork, and then on pretty much every other surface they could find in the days that followed.

Something about spending that last night together in Paris as Batman and Catwoman had altered the tenor of their relationship drastically. It was like some kind of switch had been flicked, a drug had been tasted, and now they (and especially Bruce) literally couldn't get enough. They had always been attracted to each other, but until now, that attraction had been largely curbed by one or both of them hiding something or recovering from some kind of injury. When they'd first started sleeping together in London, there was still so much unsaid between them that moments of true intimacy were fleeting at best, and always laced with some kind of guilt or resentment afterwards when they realized how little they still really knew about each other. Then, after the momentary madness in the alleyway, they had finally come clean about everything, but in Paris, sex had become a rare, and always carefully executed, indulgence in the wake of their various injuries.

But now, here in Italy, all their cards were on the table. All their secrets were out. And they were healthy enough to finally stop holding back. Selina had always considered herself a very sexual person—but Bruce was like a man possessed. She had the distinct feeling that, before her, Bruce had either completely ignored or at least largely stifled the sexual side of himself when it came to relationships. But now that she had given him full permission to express it, even she had been surprised by just how much he had apparently been repressing all those years.

They had finally, reluctantly emerged from their villa to go into town and get dinner out instead of having everything delivered, and climbing in and out of their Maserati, even with Bruce lending a hand, Selina found that she was sore in some very impolite places. She shook her head with a small smirk, thinking that she was going to start walking with a limp if this didn't let up soon.

They had managed to make it through a nice dinner without doing it on the table like they had last night at the villa. So that was something. Bruce had even kept his hands to himself all through their meal. Apparently even this newly liberated Bruce had some sense of social decency. Too bad, Selina thought to herself with a slight twinge of melancholy. All good things must come to an end.

Suddenly, there was a knocking at the single-occupancy bathroom door. "Just a minute." Selina called over her shoulder.

"It's me. Open the door." She heard his rather gruff whisper.

Selina crossed to the bathroom door, opening it and raising her eyebrow when she saw Bruce with a look in his eyes she knew very well after the last few weeks. Maybe all good things didn't have to come to an end just yet. "You lost, handsome?"

He shook his head with a smile, kissing her hard and leading her back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind them, already pulling the silk ties of one side of her dress loose as they started to make out against the door. Selina felt a rush of triumph (and other things) when Bruce slid his hand under the silky material of her neckline to massage her bare breast as they kissed. Apparently getting through one dinner was about all the good behavior he could muster, and suddenly she couldn't be happier, soreness and all.

Selina shook her head, breaking away with a throaty laugh when he backed her up against the sink, Bruce's mouth exploring the side of her neck as he braced himself against the sink with one hand and unzipped his fly with the other. "They're going to think we ran out on the check," she muttered against his ear as Bruce lifted her up onto the sink. "I already paid," Bruce assured her, his large hands sliding up her smooth legs, and then higher to her bare hips, pleased to find that Selina wasn't wearing anything at all under her dress. "Boy scout," she murmured, wrapping her legs around his waist, their breaths hitching in their throats simultaneously when he thrust into her, Selina steadying herself by bracing one of her high heels against the hand dryer as he moved harder against her and things started to feel unbearably good.

After about two frantic minutes of heavy breathing (and the sound of the hand dryer, when Selina accidentally turned it on with her foot), she leaned her head back against the mirror, groaning with pleasure. "Bruce…this…this can't be normal."

"Normal?" Bruce couldn't manage much more than one-word cave man sentences when he was inside her.

"H-How much we…I mean, not that I'm complaining, but…" Selina's voice trembled slightly, losing her train of thought as her whole body started to pulse with growing waves of heat, getting closer, so close she forgot everything but him, Bruce's hands now over hers on the mirror, palm-to-sweaty-palm, their fingers interlaced at the end, Selina going limp in his arms with a shuddering cry, Bruce's head buried against her shoulder when he groaned with release.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Selina seemed to come back to her senses first, letting out a long breath as she looked down at him, her neck and chest flushed bright red, Bruce's hands shaking slightly as she closed her fingers around his, gently lowering his hands back down to the counter. "The bathroom quickie. It's a classic for a reason, huh?"

"Yeah…" Bruce trailed off, looking up at her with an awed expression on his face before he seemed to come back down to earth as well, helping her back onto her feet before zipping his pants back up. "I really was just going to wait for you outside. I…I'm sorry, Selina."

"For what?" Selina grinned, tying her hopelessly wrinkled dress back into place. "You were just very ably proving a point."

"And what point would that be?"

She wrapped her arms around her neck, kissing him softly once more. "You and I…are not yet suitable for public places."

Bruce breathed out. "Selina…some days—most days—being with you…it's all I can think about." Bruce seemed completely dumbfounded by his own behavior. "It's like you said…this can't be normal."

"Yeah, I know. But when have we ever been normal about anything?" Selina shrugged. "You said you paid the check?"

"Yes."

She smirked, grabbing Bruce by the tie and pulling him towards her. "Then take me home."

Later that week, a terrific thunderstorm came rolling in, the storm clouds visible over the mountains behind their villa. Bruce and Selina had fallen asleep together for an afternoon nap, but when Selina woke up, Bruce wasn't there. It was so dark outside it looked like the middle of the night. Selina shivered slightly as she got out of bed, pulling on one of Bruce's t-shirts over her underwear and making her way out of the master suite to look for him.

This place was so enormous that it was easy to lose track of each other, but Selina thought she might know where Bruce had disappeared to. The villa had a personal gym, and if Bruce wasn't doing her, he was working out. She had no idea how he had the energy to hit the gym with the amount of sex they were having, but sure enough, that's where she found him, lifting weights and watching some kind of news program in Italian.

Selina just stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. Shirtless Bruce was always a welcome sight, and she could tell that being back in fighting shape was very important to him. But as he got bigger and bigger muscles, along with the hot car and the villa, there were moments where she felt like she was the interchangeable arm candy fucking Batman, not Selina Kyle sleeping with the sweet, vulnerable guy she'd fallen in love with back in London. Sometimes she missed taking care of him, missed feeling needed for something other than orgasms, missed how much he'd relied on her for support in the beginning. But she didn't really know how to put any of that into words, so she just tried to avoid thinking about it, even as this new phase of their relationship continued to largely revolve around sex. There was never anything halfway with Bruce—he either acted like a monk or a freaking sex addict. He was, as always, a very dedicated individual.

The TV reporter was speaking in very rapid Italian, and Selina knew that Bruce, who was flawlessly fluent in the language of every country they'd visited so far and many others besides, understood every word. He'd been educated at the best universities in the country—hell, the world—and she'd barely graduated high school. Whenever she thought about girls like Rachel that he'd been with before, girls who'd graduated at the top of their Ivy League classes just like him, Selina was struck anew with the notion that she was nowhere near good enough for him. What did she really have to offer to this relationship? What would Bruce honestly list as her favorable attributes? Really good blow jobs? Ability to maintain balance while doing him in eight inch heels?

The sound of Bruce resetting the bench press bar, the many weights clanging with the force of him putting it back into place, shook her out of her thoughts. He suddenly seemed to notice her, muting the TV and grabbing his water bottle to take a long sip as he crossed to her. "Hey. Sorry. I didn't hear you come in."

"Sneakiness. Kind of my thing." Selina shrugged. "Or it was."

Bruce smiled, setting down the water bottle before resting his sweaty hands on her shoulders. "So what's your thing now?"

"I don't know. Maybe it should be getting an eight pack, like you." Selina ran her hand down his ridiculously muscled stomach.

Bruce shook his head. "You don't need to change anything, believe me. You have the best body I've ever seen."

"And you've seen a lot of them."

Bruce's brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Honey. Come on. I grew up reading about Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy. What was your motto back then? No Victoria's Secret model left unturned?"

Bruce sighed. "That was mostly bullshit, Selina. It was just part of the cover."

"You're telling me you didn't have sex with those girls?"

"No. I didn't."

"Bruce. I don't care. You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, first of all, billionaires, historically, don't have too hard of a time getting girls to sleep with them. And…" Selina laughed out loud, indicating his muscled body. "Have you seen you? Believe me, as a girl who's seen a lot of really rich guys shirtless, it's usually not a very pretty sight."

Bruce blushed slightly. "They…those girls…I could barely get through one dinner of small talk with one of them without wanting to chuck myself off the restaurant balcony."

"Right. And guys never put up with dumb girls to get laid."

"Sex just wasn't…it just wasn't that important to me back then."

"So what's different now? What's different with me?" Selina demanded. "How did you go from the celibate avenger to the guy who wants it three times a day at least?"

Bruce was quiet for a moment, looking profoundly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Selina. I thought you were happy here too."

"I…I just…I can't help thinking you should be with someone better. Someone more like you. Someone who can speak fifty languages. Someone who graduated from some fancy college. I mean…girls like me are good for quickies in the bathroom and sex in the back of your Maserati, but—"

"Stop. Stop it, Selina." Bruce shook his head, looking suddenly exhausted. "You do this every time."

"Do what?"

"Start a fight to try and push me away!" Bruce threw his hands in the air. "Think of some crazy reason we shouldn't be together every time we get close to being happy! I don't get it. I really thought things were good between us, because you never fucking tell me how you feel about anything! Is there some test I still haven't passed? Is there something I still have to do to prove I love you? Because I do. I love you. Better than you doesn't exist, not for me." Bruce took in a deep breath, stepping closer to her, taking her face in his hands. "Selina, there is nothing you could do to lose me. You're not going to lose me, ever, unless you leave. I love you so much, and it kills me every time you do this. And yes, I want you, all the time, more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. You speaking fifty languages, or going to some Ivy League college….none of that means shit to me. I've met plenty of girls like that, and I never felt anything for them that was even close to the way I feel about you." Bruce caught his breath for a moment. "All I want is to make you happy. But every time you do this, every time you start pulling away…you make me feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough. Tell me the truth. Is it really the sex thing that's bothering you?" Bruce swallowed hard. "Because if that's what it is…I'll stay away. If that's what it takes for you to believe me, I'll never touch you again."

Selina looked at him for a long moment, examining his expression. He was trying really, really hard to mean it. She couldn't help but be touched.

"No…that's not what I want." She licked her lips. "I'm sorry. I know I don't say it much but…I love you too. I just really want to get this right, and I feel like I never have any idea what I'm doing."

Bruce sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing either, Selina. At all. Ever."

She looked up at him, finally giving him a small smile. "Well, I guess we're hopeless then."

"We'll figure something out." Bruce smiled back.

Selina reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, not caring that he was sweaty, not caring about anything except that she finally believed everything he was saying. Some kind of wall had finally come down between them. They'd broken through. Bruce hugged her back tightly, realizing this might be the first time they had held each other like this—ever. "Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I'm so crazy."

"You are not crazy. Or if you are, I am too." Bruce smoothed down her long brown hair.

Selina pulled back slightly to look at him after a moment. "Were you really going to be okay with us never having sex again?"

Bruce laughed, looking her over as if trying to decide on his answer. "Uh…not if you keep walking around the house wearing nothing but my shirt."

"I could take it off…?" Selina suggested helpfully, sliding the shirt up high enough to show him the black lacy underwear she was wearing underneath.

"Before you do—" Bruce stopped her with a smile, holding her at arm's length. "I think you are smart. And funny. And my favorite person. For completely non-sexual reasons."

She raised her eyebrows. "Completely?"

"Well…"

Selina laughed out loud, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. "Come on. There's no way I'm having make-up sex in a gym."

"Fair enough."

Later that night, in their massive king-sized bed, Selina was dozing off while Bruce was watching that same Italian news channel.

"Honey…that guy has the most annoying voice in the world…please turn it off." Selina snuggled up against Bruce's chest, grouchy with sleepiness.

"Just until commercial."

When he finally clicked it off when the show went to break, Selina rubbed his chest. "What's wrong? I can practically hear your brow furrowing."

"Just…this story that's been all over the news. Some group of thugs trashed a convent. Took all of their money. Caused thousands of dollars of damage to the cathedral. Sexually assaulted the women who lived there. Nasty stuff. And there's evidence that the attack was orchestrated by the mafia."

"How does a group of nuns piss off the Italian mob?" Selina looked up at him, barely able to make out the outline of his profile in the dark.

"I don't know." Bruce was silent for a moment. "Might be worth looking into though."

"Looking into?"

"Well, I was thinking about going into town tomorrow anyway. I want to check on some investments. Couldn't hurt to swing by. See if there's anything we could do to help."

Selina reached up, kissing his cheek. "I knew you couldn't resist fighting crime for much longer, baby."

"Do you think you could come with me? Take a look around? Covertly?"

"Have we met?"

Bruce smiled, turning on his side towards her, his arm across her stomach. "Goodnight, Selina."

"Night, Bruce."

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, but the chapel is closed for worship today." A younger Italian woman in a nun's habit approached Selina sitting on one of the pews in the main chapel of the Villa Aurelia Convent. "I thought we had locked the doors."

You did, Selina thought to herself, but she just smiled pleasantly, looking away from the shattered stained glass windows to the woman and holding out her hand. "My name's Samantha Reisler."

"Sister Cecilia." The nun shook her hand, Selina feeling the cool pressure of a gold wedding band on the woman's left ring finger. To symbolize their commitment to God, she remembered her sister telling her once. "What can we do for you, Miss Reisler?"

"I heard about what happened, and I want to help."

The fact that Selina was carrying a $20,000 Birkin purse and wearing a vintage Chanel blouse over her skinny black pants did not seem to be lost on the woman. Selina figured that the best way to get information was to let the woman know she really did have enough money to help rebuild this place, and wasn't just a snoopy reporter or something. But the woman still looked a little suspicious of Selina's motives. "That's very kind of you, but—"

"Who would do such a thing?" Selina shook her head sadly, looking around at the fabric draped to haphazardly cover the obscene words spray-painted on the altar. "Do the police have any leads?"

Sister Cecilia sank down next to her on the pew, appearing human for the first time as she let out a long, exhausted breath. "Nothing they would ever pursue."

"What do you mean by that?" Selina looked over at her.

The nun met her eyes. "Some men are untouchable on this earth. But he will not escape God's judgment. No one can do that."

"Tell me who did this." Selina leaned in closer. "I have a…friend who takes care of these kinds of things."

It was clear from the look on Sister Cecilia's face that she'd overplayed her hand. The woman shook her head, clamming back up. "I don't mean to be rude, but I think you should leave now. The sisters and I have much to do in the wake of such a tragedy."

Selina nodded, deciding to take a different tack. "Fair enough." She gathered up her things. "I hope they find the guy."

Sister Cecilia looked up at her, a false pleasantness to her smile. "God bless you for your compassion, ma'am."

Selina returned the fake smile, turning to go and walking out of the main doors of the chapel, but instead of leaving, she took a sharp right to the bathroom. She stripped off her heels, slipped a translating device Bruce had lent her out of her Birkin, and left the purse and shoes behind as she climbed up into the ventilation system, making her way via air duct surreptitiously past all the locked doors into the part of the convent not open to the public. From the research she'd done that morning, she knew it was a women's shelter, and she could now see it came complete with a spacious kitchen, sleeping quarters, and what looked like a makeshift medical facility. It might have once been a nice place, but it was completely ransacked from the attack last night, crime scene tape everywhere, beds flipped over, windows broken, some of the walls even riddled with bullet holes.

It looked to be mostly deserted, but eventually, Selina saw Sister Cecilia approaching a much older woman who was sorting through some of the mess of medical records with withered, shaking hands. They began speaking in rapid Italian, but Selina had turned on the translator to read what they were saying on the small screen.

"Did you get rid of our visitor?" The older woman asked Sister Cecilia.

"Yes."

"Matteo's idea of a joke, I suppose."

"I don't know. She didn't seem like his usual type. Maybe she really was just a person trying to help." Sister Clarice shrugged.

"Or his way of surveying his work." The older woman looked down for a moment, and Selina could practically feel the fury emanating off of her. "But God is good. Veronica is safely away now. Matteo didn't accomplish his scheme."

"He accomplished plenty of other things last night." Sister Clarice said darkly.

"His judgment is coming. You will see."

"I know, Mother. I know."

They went their separate ways, so Selina saved the conversation on the device and made her way back to the bathroom, climbing out of the ceiling and landing gracefully on her bare feet. She slipped back on her heels, slung her purse over her shoulder with the translation device safely stored away inside, and made her way out of the convent and back into the aggressively sunny day outside.

"This seat taken?" Selina smiled, joining Bruce at the outdoor café where they had agreed to meet later that afternoon.

Bruce looked up from his laptop with a smile as well, dressed rather adorably touristy in sunglasses, a white t-shirt, and jeans. "How'd it go?"

"Good. Got us two names to go on. Veronica is the name of a girl who was hiding out at the women's shelter within the convent—it sounded like they had smuggled her out of the country or something, and that had set the whole thing off. And then they seemed to think the perpetrator was a man named—"

"Matteo." Bruce finished for her, turning his laptop around so she could see Lucius Fox's computer database search program open. "I've been reading through the police reports on the attack. Nothing about a Veronica, but plenty about a man named Giovanni Matteo. Youngest son of Lorenzo Matteo, suspected as the boss of one of the more prominent crime families in Rome. The police have never been able to pin anything substantial on the father, but apparently Giovanni's not as clever. See for yourself."

Selina leaned in, pushing her sunglasses back into her hair so she could see the computer screen better, reading over Giovanni Matteo's criminal records. "Wow. He's been a busy boy lately." She sat back in her chair. "It's like Gotham and Falconi all over again."

"Names change. Criminals don't." Bruce conceded. "So I think we can safely assume that this Veronica was involved with Giovanni." Bruce pointed at the criminal record. "He has five domestic assault and battery charges on his record, all involving ex-girlfriends or wives. He was even a suspect in a murder case ten years ago when his first wife 'fell down the stairs' and broke her neck, but they could never pin it on him conclusively. And apparently her body disappeared from the morgue before they could do an autopsy and determine the true cause of death. They never found her."

Selina shuddered slightly. "Charming." She took a long sip of her newly delivered glass of wine. "So he beats up Veronica, she hides out with Sister Mary Clarence and Company, and they help her get away from him. Mob Boss Jr. gets wind of what's happened, can't find her, and shoots up the convent to punish them for taking away his favorite toy."

Bruce looked disgusted. "We have to put an end to this."

Selina nodded. "Where's Giovanni now?"

"Well, that's where the story gets even more interesting. His father and the family won't pay his bail. He's still sitting in prison. The police apprehended him near the crime scene on the night of the attack, but he hasn't been formally charged with anything yet."

"And he won't." Selina ran her tongue over her teeth. "Wonder why Daddy's letting him rot."

"I intend to find out."

"How?"

"I'm going to pay a visit to Matteo Sr. tonight. See what I can find out."

"You want some help?"

Bruce shook his head, having a sudden flash of Selina in her hospital bed. "No. I'll be fine. Just use my computer at home and find out everything you can about Veronica."

Selina looked at him for a moment, an odd expression behind her eyes. But whatever she was thinking, she didn't say it. She just took another slow sip of her wine. "Be careful, Bruce."

"I will." Bruce nodded, almost dismissively, and Selina felt her hand involuntarily tighten on the stem of her wine glass.

"Should we order?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." Selina looked down across the table at his glass of water. "You're not drinking?"

"Not while I'm working."

Selina pressed her lips together for a moment. "Right. Of course not."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Let's order." Selina looked down at her menu, privately thinking that if Bruce thought she really would just sit at home tonight, he still had a lot to learn about her.

"If you'd like, we can recommend an outpatient therapist—after what you went through—" The nurse offered helpfully.

"I'll be fine." Sister Mary Elizabeth said more firmly, affixing her habit back in place, trying to retain her dignity even though her face was covered with dark bruises and deep cuts from her ordeal. "Who do I speak with about payment for my treatment?"

"It's been taken care of." The nurse assured her, walking her towards the front door. "All of your medical expenses have been paid."

Mary Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, looking confused. "By whom? The church?"

"No, ma'am. By a woman who says she wants to speak with you."

The color drained from Mary Elizabeth's face, thinking of the Matteo family and the vengeance they had promised. "What woman?"

"She says her name is Samantha Reisler. And she's right outside." The nurse pointed towards a tall, beautiful, dark-haired woman in a short black dress leaning back against a black Lamborghini in front of the hospital. She looked American—and Reisler didn't exactly sound like the last name of a moll. Curiosity peaked, Sister Mary Elizabeth thanked the nurse for all that she'd done and walked outside.

She crossed towards Selina, who nodded her head towards the still-purring Lamborghini. "You want a ride?"

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Mary Elizabeth spoke English very well.

"No, but I heard about what happened to you and the women you work with. You could say I…I have a personal interest in bringing the man who did this to you to justice."

Mary Elizabeth looked at her for a long moment, before shaking her head, tears in her blue eyes. "What can you do? They'll never convict him of anything. That monster has the best team of lawyers in Italy."

"I can help you. I promise you, I can help."

"You already have. That was very generous of you to pay my medical expenses." Mary Elizabeth looked embarrassed. "I…I don't like to take other people's charity."

"It's not charity. It's a bribe." Selina grinned. "I need you to put in a good word for me with the sisters of Villa Aurelia. We're going to have to work together on this if we want anything to get done." She could tell Mary Elizabeth was about to agree. "Look, get in. We'll talk on the way."

"I live a block from here."

"We'll take the scenic route." Selina shrugged, clicking a button on her keys to automatically open the side door for Mary Elizabeth. "Jump in, honey. And hold on tight."

Lorenzo Matteo never trusted anyone else to lock up his books and close up his office. He always did it himself when the day was done, muttering to himself as he hauled his enormous girth out of his desk chair, knowing that time and endless double-crosses had turned him into a bitter, suspicious man, but also knowing that many had tried to take his throne, and no one had yet succeeded. So he must be doing something right.

He slipped the butter-soft material of his custom leather jacket over his hunched, rounded shoulders, making his way towards the door of his office when suddenly he heard a voice behind him. A very familiar voice. A voice so much like his own, speaking in stilted, choked Italian.

"Papa…papa, please…you have to help me. I did not do this horrible thing. Veronica is the love of my life. I had nothing to do with this…please, help me."

Lorenzo slowly turned, his eyes dark with rage. He saw an unfamiliar man, tall and muscular, wearing all black and a ski mask over his face, standing in front of the window silhouetted by moonlight, playing the message he'd hacked from Lorenzo's own phone, which Lorenzo had spent a fortune safe guarding with every security measure known to man.

Once the message was played, the unknown man slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. "Not taking your own son's call from prison." The man spoke Italian, but with traces of an American accent in his rough, rasping tones. "Help me understand. Murder of a girl no one bothers to look for is forgivable, but landing the Matteo family on the front page for raping and beating nuns is not?"

"Who the hell are you?" Lorenzo demanded. The man said nothing, so Lorenzo pulled out the Beretta from the waist of his pants. "I want a fucking answer. Who are you? Who sent you?"

The man moved so fast Lorenzo could not react in time to stop him from slamming Lorenzo back against the wall and taking the gun from his hands, emptying the clip and tossing the gun aside with one smooth motion. "Tell me!' The man shook him, lifting him off his feet as if Lorenzo—who was easily over three hundred pounds—weighed nothing. "Why? Why not bail him out? Don't you want to take care of your own?"

"Look…if Gio sent you, you can tell him it's no good. Some hired grunt isn't going to make me pay his bail. Nothing will. I want nothing to do with that boy. He is dead to me. To his mother. To the family. Since the day he was born, he was been a torment to all of us. And I am not cleaning up his messes anymore. He is disowned. I had him taken out of the will. He's not touching my money, even if you kill me tonight."

"Your son didn't send me. I came on my own. I came to stop him from hurting anyone else. They'll release him soon; you know they will. Nothing they have on him is enough to put him away."

Lorenzo looked up at this strange masked avenger, letting out a wheezing breath he felt like he'd been holding in for years.

"Tell me. Are you a father?" Lorenzo asked him.

The man shook his head.

"Then you could never understand this feeling." Lorenzo looked exhausted, just shaking his head. "My son will hurt more women if they release him. I know this. He's not well. I…I am trying to help him. I am trying to help him by leaving him where he belongs."

"Then help me keep him there. Tell me everything you know about Veronica. And why she was so afraid of him."

"Don't worry about Veronica." Lorenzo shook his head. "Worry about the next girl. Worry about Dominare."

"Dominare?"

"His nightclub." Lorenzo looked up into the man's eyes. "His hunting ground."

The masked man nodded, releasing Lorenzo and disappearing back out the window. Lorenzo straightened the collar of his jacket, going to the window and looking out over the streets of Rome. His mysterious visitor was nowhere to be seen.

"What can you tell me about that night?" Selina looked over at her new companion. They'd been driving around Rome for quite awhile now, Selina exploring the city and letting Mary Elizabeth ride in silence for a long time. She had found her name in the police reports on Bruce's computer, and it seemed that Mary Elizabeth was the only one who had come forward about being sexually assaulted by the men who broke into the convent, though from what Selina knew of criminals, she doubted Mary Elizabeth was the only girl who'd been violated, just the only one who'd confessed.

She was a young girl—Selina would guess around nineteen or twenty, pale, blond hair, blue eyes. She reacted to the world like a little frightened animal, very jumpy and skittish, seemingly and understandably overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. But the more information Selina had, the more she and Bruce could help the women of Villa Aurelia.

"Veronica had come to us before. She heard that we helped women in trouble. He would beat her senseless, she would come to us, we would tell her to leave him, but she would go back. She came to us so many times that the sisters and I developed a true friendship with her, and eventually, she began to listen to our prayerful advice. She asked us to help her get out of Rome, to get to her sister in America. She got the money she needed, she came to the convent, and we helped her make the boat to America. Somehow, Giovanni had found out her plans. But not soon enough to stop her. He was waiting for us, with all of his men, when we returned to the shelter. He went mad with rage, shooting everywhere, everything, demanding we tell him where she had gone. We all refused. And they began destroying God's temple. They were all intoxicated. They encouraged each other to darker deeds. They had cut the phone lines and blocked off the doors so we could not phone for help or leave the convent. Most of them beat us, but did no more at first. Giovanni saw me trying to get away, and he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me into the confessional. He asked me…he asked me if I was really a virgin." Mary Elizabeth's voice caught in her throat, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I told him that I was. That purity was part of my vows to God."

They were stopped at a red light now, but Selina her eyes on the road. She knew that sometimes it was easier to say the truth out loud when you didn't feel the other person staring right at you.

"He pushed me back against the wall, his hand around my neck, the barrel of his gun pressed against my cheek. He made me take off my underwear and give them to him and he stuffed them into his jacket pocket, saying he would keep them as a trophy. He said he'd never had a virgin before." Mary Elizabeth swallowed hard. "He took advantage of me, and it was the worst pain of my life. I was bleeding, crying, screaming for help. It felt like I was being ripped in half. He said horrible things to me, grunting like an animal, and then it was over. Afterwards, he whipped me across the face with his gun, many times. He was laughing while he did it. And then he left me there to die. The police arrived not long after. Someone had called when they heard the gunshots. They took me to the hospital. And here we are." Mary Elizabeth wiped off her cheeks. "And all I keep thinking…it is so selfish, but I can't think of anything else…what if I am pregnant?"

"You could…I mean, there's always the Morning After pill." Selina suggested.

"No. I could never…no." Mary Elizabeth shook her head determinedly. "If I am, this child is in God's will."

"I'm not your Mother Superior, honey. You don't have to give me your Sunday school answer." Selina took a right turn at the light. "I'll take you to the pharmacy myself."

"No. I'm not…giving you a false answer. I believe every trial is part of God's plan. I must show those who wronged me His mercy and forgiveness." Mary Elizabeth nodded to herself. "And I must believe that this man will be subject to divine justice."

"Now justice I can damn well guarantee." Selina assured her, pulling up in front of the convent. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. But I promise you, my friend and I can help. We do this kind of thing all the time. We will find Giovanni. And make this right."

"You have true conviction for this." Mary Elizabeth looked at her closely. "Why is it so important to you?"

"I know what it is to feel helpless. Like there's no one who cares. But I do care. And I will help you. I promise you that."

"I believe you." Mary Elizabeth smiled softly. "You will come back?"

"Yes. I'll come back. As long as you put in a good word with your sisters. Tell them I'm here to help all of you."

"I will."

Selina and Mary Elizabeth looked up at the convent, dark and gothic in the shadows of the night. "Are you sure you want to go back there?" Selina asked her quietly.

"Yes. I have been called to this place. And I will not abandon my calling just because I have been tested."

Selina looked back to Mary Elizabeth, clearly impressed. "I admire you. I really do."

"Thank you. For everything." Mary Elizabeth climbed out of the sports car, walking past the crime scene tape and letting herself in the graffiti-ridden front doors of the church, returning to her calling.

Selina waited until the young girl was safely inside the door before pulling away from the curb, torn between thinking Mary Elizabeth was either crazy or the bravest person she'd ever met. Or both.

When she pulled up to the villa, she saw Bruce's Maserati already parked in the driveway.

Selina felt a sinking in her stomach, but shrugged it off, turning off the Lamborghini and strutting towards the front door in her short dress and high heels, shoulders squared, projecting all the confidence in the world. Who cares if he knew she'd gone out? He wasn't her keeper.

She unlocked the front door and stepped inside, ready for a fight. And sure enough, Bruce stepped out of the kitchen and into the main foyer, his eyes dark with some mixture of hurt and anger as Selina closed the front door behind her.

"I've been calling you for the past two hours."

Selina shrugged. "I must have left my phone on silent."

Bruce stepped towards her. "Is this fun for you? Disappearing and not taking my calls and letting me wonder if you're hurt or worse?"

Selina pushed past him towards the staircase. "I can take care of myself, Bruce. Leave me alone."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards him. "Stop acting like such a child."

"Stop pretending like you're my fucking father." Selina hissed. "Sorry, honey, but that's not my kink. I don't have to ask your permission to leave the house."

"I'm not saying that!"

"Then why didn't you want me to help you tonight?" She demanded. "Today, at lunch, why did you treat me like some little trophy wife who was supposed to just sit at home and take a fucking bubble bath while you fought the battle that was supposed to be ours? I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together."

"We are a team. But I'm not putting you in danger when I don't have to."

"You are not cutting me out of this one." Selina shook her head.

"Why is bringing down the mob so important to you?"

"It's not that! I mean, it's not just that. It's protecting people like Mary Elizabeth. The woman Giovanni assaulted. The woman I met with tonight." Selina took a deep breath. "She was a virgin, Bruce. She made a promise to God to stay that way, and he took that away from her. I can't hear things like that and do nothing. Not after..."

"Not after what?" Bruce moved his hand from her arm to her cheek, gently stroking her skin with his thumb. "Please tell me. Tell me what started all of this for you."

Selina pressed her lips together for a moment as she considered him. "I'm gonna need a drink first."

Bruce nodded, leading her towards the kitchen and pouring her a glass of whiskey straight. "You want any ice?" Bruce asked.

Selina took the glass, swallowing it in one sip, her voice slightly hoarse after. "No, thank you." She turned away from him, staring out the window at the sprawling grounds behind their home, her arms crossed over her chest. Bruce sat down at the kitchen table, getting the feeling she could only tell this story if she didn't have to look at him.

"I was just thirteen when my mother died, and my sister and I needed money. I didn't know any other way to get it fast enough. I started working on the streets. I lost my virginity to my pimp in a bathroom stall, and then he beat me up for not telling him I was a virgin. He said he could have charged a john more money for my first night if he had known. He wasn't very particular about who he sold his girls to, but usually he didn't let them rough us up too bad. That was his job, if we didn't make our monthly payments to him." Selina paused for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ears, a nervous habit Bruce had noticed emerged whenever she didn't want to tell him something. But she went on.

"I worked for him for three years, and made just enough so that my sister and I didn't starve. But then one night, he sent me to a party. I'd never worked a party alone before, and it seemed strange that he sent me by myself. Usually parties wanted three or four girls. It was a group of men who worked for the Joker, back when he was first gaining ground in Gotham. They wanted to blow off some steam after a big bank job. Some kind of warm-up for the one where the Joker got your attention, I think. He hadn't involved himself directly yet. The minute I got to the hotel room, I had a bad feeling. Something was wrong. There were too many of them. Seven at least, and more kept showing up. They made me drink a whole bottle of vodka, and they'd obviously put something in it. It felt like I was paralyzed, but I didn't pass out. They took off all my clothes and bound my wrists and ankles with electrical ties. The rest of the night…it was like I was their toy. Anytime I would start to get more responsive or try to say anything or call out for help, they would shove a rag in my mouth that was soaked in something that kept me quiet. They all took turns raping me so many times I lost count. I kept praying I would just go numb, be able to go somewhere else in my mind, but I couldn't. It hurt every time. I remember when I started bleeding on that cheap green carpet, they started laughing that they'd probably get fined by house keeping for the stains. Sometimes they would get bored and kick me around the room, watch me crawl to the door and then drag me back, like I was an animal they caught in a trap." Selina poured herself another drink, still refusing to look at Bruce, her hands shaking violently as she raised the drink to her lips and swallowed it down. "I was only in that room for about eight hours, but it felt like that night went on forever. I felt so helpless. Hopeless. And I swore to myself I would never feel like that again. The next day, I got out. I found someone who could teach me what I needed to know to become The Cat. I started training to become what I am now. My first night in costume, I robbed all of those men blind. Ruined them. Probably got them all killed by the Joker. And I never looked back. When my sister saw me the morning after what those men had done to me, she went into a convent. She said she didn't want to be a burden on me ever again. And she didn't want to live in a world like Gotham any longer. She said she had to find a way to make peace with the hate in her heart."

"And you?" Bruce finally spoke, his voice very quiet.

"Someone asked me once if I became the Cat because I hated men. I told him that was impossible because I'd never met one. Not a real man, anyway." Selina set down her drink, finally looking at Bruce, long and hard. "I don't feel that way anymore."

Bruce got to his feet, crossing to her and hugging her tightly. "You're the strongest person I've ever known," he spoke into her hair, his voice breaking slightly, Selina wrapping her arms around him as well, surprising herself when she started to cry into his shoulder, tears she had held in for over a decade, tears she never thought she'd trust another person enough to show.

They stayed like that for a long time, it could have been minutes, it could have been hours, until there were no more tears left. Finally, Bruce spoke again—

"I want us to do this job together. And everything else. For the rest of our lives."

Selina laughed slightly, pulling back to look at him, her eye make-up hopelessly smeared down her cheeks. "What are you saying?"

"Marry me."

A/N- Next time—Selina's answer to his proposal as she and Bruce harness their inner Bat and Cat to wage all-out war on the Matteo family, all culminating in Selina hatching a plan so insanely dangerous and high-stakes that both Bruce and Selina's relationship and specialized skills will be tested like never before…reviews make my day!