The present…
Bruce's secretary buzzed him. He sighed and pressed the button on his desk.
"Yes?"
"Mister Wayne, Clark Kent is here to see you."
Although extremely annoyed, Bruce wouldn't let his anger slip into his voice. "Thank you. Send him in."
Clark stepped inside, and Bruce had already plastered the smile on his face. "Mister Kent! I know it's early, but what do you say to having a glass of bourbon with me?" When the door closed, the smile straightened.
"I thought we should talk, Bruce."
"I'll still provide some funding and erase paper trails when absolutely needed or until you find someone in your League capable of doing the same. I'm sure The Question could manage some of your affairs. He's pretty good with computers."
"You know it's not about the money."
Bruce sat at his desk.
"I'm afraid you're trying to isolate yourself. It's not healthy." Clark adjusted his glasses and hung his overcoat on the back of the chair. "What's wrong?"
"Are you here because Lois and Diana put you up to it?"
"Damn it, Bruce. Talk to me."
"I don't talk."
"Then humor me."
"My elder son is a part of your team despite my vocalizing my distaste for the decision," Bruce answered smartly. "My younger son has been moving back and forth between his home and a psychiatrist's couch for nearly two years.
"Although we found Rex's body, there was no residue left behind by either Shayera or John. The fire may have incinerated them wholly, but, according to my calculations, Shayera's bones couldn't have been destroyed so easily, even if they were hollow. Is there more you'd like for your paper, Mister Kent? I could give you details about my personal life as well."
"Stop it."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Then why are you asking a question you already have answers to?"
"I know that after your parents died, you slipped into a depression that you've never really gotten out of. I don't want you doing that again. Not with what happened to Tim or Ollie or Shayera and John."
The door opened again. When she realized Bruce wasn't alone, Selina immediately halted with her hand remaining on the doorknob. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" Her green eyes moved from Clark to Bruce.
He could tell she wasn't sure if she should act a particular way.
Clark looked at Selina and then arched an eyebrow in Bruce's direction. "No, Miss Kyle. I was just leaving." He collected his coat. "Thank you, Mister Wayne. I'm sure we can schedule an interview the next time you're in Metropolis."
"I'll be sure to send you and your wife invitations to the Wayne Foundation's next benefit."
"Sounds fantastic," Clark said dryly. "Have a good day." He courtly gave Selina a curt nod before leaving the office.
"That wasn't about me, was it?" she asked and set her bag onto the chair.
Selina came around to perch herself on the edge of his desk. Bruce had a moment of déjà vu as she crossed her legs. He shook it from his thoughts.
"Are you all right?"
He nodded.
"What did Clark Kent want?"
"Nothing."
She tilted her head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two were having a serious conversation about something."
"There are still some things you can't know."
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't retort, indicating there were no words ample enough to express the massive elevation of her anger. Bruce could tell he had offended her. He would not elaborate on the topic or ask what she was thinking or how she felt.
"You have to stop coming to my office." Before she could question him, he continued, "You and I can't have a normal relationship. We're not regular people."
"We are who we are, and that's why we work, Bruce."
"I don't want anyone connecting you to me, especially since you insist on playing hero on the East End." He paused before adding, "Bruce Wayne can't be seen with a vigilante."
"Fine. I'll throw my drink in your face at the restaurant. I won't even have to fake my disgust."
Bruce managed a smile. "Where would you like to get lunch?"
She rolled her eyes and slid off his desk, purposely knocking several files to the floor. "It doesn't matter, really. Wherever you'd like to go is fine with me."
He disregarded the files. "How about something quick, and then we could go back to your place?"
Selina whirled around to face him, placing a hand on her hip. "You're a real pompous jerk, sometimes." When he didn't deny the accusation, Selina sighed. "I know there are things you can't share with me, but you can trust me if you wanted to. You should know that."
He gave her another smile, one which he knew she'd recognize as forced.
Selina gritted her teeth and grabbed her purse from his desk. "Let's go. At least I'm getting a free meal out of this."
Bruce sat on Selina's bed and fixed his tie. The red wine had stained his shirt earlier, but he kept extras at her apartment.
On numerous occasions, it had been her lipstick which had stained his shirts.
She crawled up to him from behind, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and nibbled on his ear to gain his attention.
"I have to get back to work."
She laughed. "So, this is what it's like to date Bruce Wayne? He decides when and where you eat, when and where you can think, and when and where you have sex." Her playful tongue touched his ear lobe, and he tried not to notice.
Selina moved around him, settling in his lap with her legs to either side of his hips. Her matching bra and panties were distracting him.
"The trouble with this norm is that neither Miss Kyle nor Catwoman like taking orders." She lightly kissed him and smiled. "And both ladies tend to get what they want when they want it."
"I suppose it's a good thing that I can't lose my job."
"You pissed me off earlier. Just because you bought me lunch and allowed me to physically express my rage, both publicly and privately, does not mean you're off the hook." Selina kissed him again, biting his lower lip as she pulled away. "You deserve a harsher punishment," she murmured as a hand slid down his abdomen.
He flinched when she reached her destination, but before he could respond to her advances, his cell phone rang. He recognized the ring tone. Bruce reached over to the nightstand to pick it up.
"Tim?" he answered.
"Bruce," the boy replied. After an awkward pause, Tim continued. "I'm going to be in town this weekend to pick up the rest of my stuff."
Selina stood and slipped on a silk robe.
"Of course. Maybe we could get dinner? Or perhaps breakfast, depending on when you'd like to –"
"I just want to pick up my stuff and go."
"Of course," Bruce repeated. "No problem."
Selina frowned and sat down beside him. Tim said goodbye and cut the line. Before Selina could say anything of comfort, Bruce threw the phone across the room, smashing it into the dresser.
"I guess there's no sense in telling you that what happened to Tim wasn't your fault and that things will get better."
"I've heard it before."
"But not from me, and I'm almost as painfully honest as you are." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for her lover to speak.
Bruce didn't look at her.
"Why is he so angry with you? You weren't the one who let him down, and you weren't the one who tortured him."
"I let him wear the uniform," he admitted. "He became a target for the Joker as soon as he put on that damned mask, as soon as there was an 'R' on his chest. Joker had a thing for killing Robins." He paused. "I knew what Joker was capable of, and I knew that Quinn wanted a family."
She seemed to be waiting for him to continue, so he did. "I recently forbade Tim from being Robin again because he had become too violent."
"But that's a reasonable ultimatum."
"I also forbade Barbara and Dick from doing the same. Each argued that they were not my responsibility. Neither had gotten my approval when they first donned the masks of Batgirl and Nightwing and therefore didn't need my permission now." He shook his head. "They're each now a part of their respected police precincts, each saving their cities in a way they know best," he said and touched Selina's naked knee.
"You know, Barbara didn't always dislike me. It was no coincidence that she left her cowl not long after you revealed yourself to me." With a crooked smile, she added, "It was for obvious reasons." Selina took his hand into hers. "And Dick joined the League even though he knew you were angry with them."
"My life in a nutshell?"
She brushed the hair from his forehead. "Do you want me to be with you when Tim visits? Not for his benefit, but for yours."
"We'll have dinner. Can you cook?"
Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
"I have to be painfully honest with you now, Selina. I cannot cook a damn thing. Maybe eggs, but that's it. Alfred always did all the cooking."
She smiled. "I'll make dinner if you'll make breakfast."