A/N: Okay, I'm so sorry for taking an extended break (over two weeks) in between chapters but this one was ridiculously difficult to write for no apparent reason. I just couldn't do it. The words and sentences felt awkward and clunky and I just didn't feel inspired to push through. So, I decided to take my time and get it right instead of rushing out some half-finished chapter at the last minute. Thank you for your patience and support through it all.
And speaking of support, we just passed 200 Reviews and 30,000 views and we're almost at 100 Favorite and 100 Follows…which is kind of a big deal. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love working on this series and each of your individual input has made it into what it is today. Some of you have been reading since the first chapter over a year ago, which is just insane. I'm gonna talk more in the Bottom Note, but once again, thank you. It means the world.
So with that all of that said, here's Chapter 38 of Roles Reversed. Hope you enjoy!
Is This a Date? Pt. 1
Selina made her way downstairs from the roof of the Sirens. Bruce had disappeared off into the night, and her mind was still buzzing from the kiss he'd given her before departing. She was certain her cheeks and neck were bright pink from it all. He'd finally man'd up and told her his true feelings for her (which had been pretty obvious, but still).
And now they were dating…
She wasn't single anymore…
Not that she'd spent too much time thinking about it, but whatever she'd expected to feel when she got a boyfriend, this lived up to it and then some. Her heart was still jumping around violently in her chest, her sense of balance was thrown off, like she'd just gotten off a rollercoaster, her mind was everywhere and nowhere, and there was a permanent smile tugging at her lips. In the past hour she'd felt more content, more at peace than she had felt in a very long time.
She was so happy she almost forgot about the latter half of their conversation, her question about who he worked for, what he'd been doing the night he was supposedly in Bludhaven.
Her high came instantly crashing down.
Bruce hadn't lied to her, she was certain of it. He hadn't been there the night she'd been abducted, yet she'd seen him clear as day. There were still a few possibilities, such as brainwashing or a look-alike, but neither of those explanations seemed feasible or realistic.
But a scientist creating monsters underneath a looney bin didn't seem realistic. A secret society running Gotham right under her nose didn't seem realistic. A thousand year-old cultist group dedicated to wiping out her family didn't seem realistic.
And yet all of those things had happened, she'd witnessed them first hand, so who was she to rule out the improbable?
There were too many questions and far too few answers. She needed to get home, write them all down, start mapping it all out. Hopefully, if she pulled on the loose strings hard enough, they'd take her straight to the source.
Unfortunately, she already had an idea of who it would lead her to: the people in the owl masks, the people she'd promised not to investigate, the people who probably had dozens of the men in the black masks at their disposal.
But she couldn't be certain of that quite yet. There were too many unknown variables to make a conclusion.
She quickened her pace, jogging down the stairs to the club. She expected to find the scene she'd left, dozens of millionaires and politicians mingling around talking about how much money they recently donated or which celebrities they knew.
Instead, she found half a dozen cops dragging Butch Gilzean to the elevator, fighting and swearing as he went. Penguin and his right hand man, Edward Nygma, were off to the side, another officer taking their witness statements. Barbara Keen and Tabitha Galavan, of whom Selina had fond memories of neither, were having a quiet discussion/argument about something.
Other than them, there seemed to be no one else left in the club.
That is except for Alfred who was currently charging at her. She braced herself for impact as he nearly tackled her. After she'd assured him that she was okay, he proceeded to lay into her about running off and worrying him half to death and not picking up her cell phone and the other thousand things she'd done wrong in the past half hour.
Finally, when he was forced to come up for air, Selina butted in, "I was safe, Alfred. I was with Bruce."
That didn't help the matter, not one bit.
"Kyle? What was he doin' here? He's not exactly the high society type."
"Neither are you," she rebuffed. Alfred's gaze hardened and she relented, "He was looking for me."
"And why is that?"
She tried not to blush, she really, really did, but she wasn't strong enough.
His eyes went wide and he got a knowing smirk on his face. "Ah, I see, you two were–"
"Talking," she stated, louder than she'd meant it. "We were just talking."
"About what, if you don't mind me asking?"
She knit her brow and crossed her arms. "I do mind, actually, and it's none of your business what."
"Oh really?" he challenged. "You do know I can pop you back on a plane to Switzerland whenever I want? Then how would you 'talk' with Mister Kyle?"
She clenched her jaw. There was no getting out of this, she'd have to tell him, but she sure as hell wasn't gonna make it easy. She dropped her arms and put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows and putting a mischievous smirk on her face. She took a small step forwards and Alfred's stoic expression faltered. "Fine. You wanna know what we talked about?" She dropped her gaze to the floor and traced her foot in figure-eights absentmindedly. "Just me and Bruce, on a roof, for half an hour, all alone…" She glanced up and Alfred was already redder than she was. "Well, first he told me that he cared about me, and then that he was keeping secrets…" She smiled to herself. "Then he told me that things were changing, that he was changing in…ways. And then, he told me he liked me." She took another glance up and saw that Alfred was nearly fire-truck red. He was completely unnerved. "Well, one thing led to another…"
"And?" Alfred asked, his voice seemingly filled with real fear.
She knit her brow. "Don't look at me like that. We didn't do anything, if that's what you're implying. Geez, Alfred, I thought you'd have more faith in me." She shook her head in disgust. "Guess not."
And with that, she turned on her heel and marched off, a smirk tugging at her lips the whole trip back to the car.
That took care of that.
Now with Alfred out of the way, she could focus on the more important issue: finding the boy who looked like Bruce.
It was much easier said than done. In three weeks she'd essentially found nothing. She'd gone through every file, every book, every possible hiding spot in her entire house and found absolutely nothing. She'd gone through her father's calendar, the only thing unlocked on his computer, and searched through over a decade of meetings, birthdays, anniversaries, and acronyms, and she'd found nothing even referencing the existence of the group, let alone a lead on a Bruce Kyle lookalike.
She threw her blank notepad across the room, spinning around in her chair in frustration. She glared at her cork board. She'd used playing cards and red string to map out everything she knew so far, leaving many, many openings to represent what she didn't know. At the very top of board sat two kings, one of spades and one of diamonds. On the king of diamonds she'd written 'League of Assassins'. Below it were the jack of diamonds and jack of hearts, representing Jean and Bruce who both worked for the League.
On the other side was the king of spades on which she'd drawn a rough sketch of an owl. Underneath that was the queen of spades, on which she'd written 'Kathryn', and below that was the jack of spades, on which she drew a question mark, the imposter Bruce.
Two separate groups, the League of Assassins and the mysterious group Kathryn worked for. The only connection between the two: they both had a Bruce, one real and one fake.
There had to be something she was missing, but she had no idea where to start looking. She had half a mind to try and find Kathryn, but even if she did, what would she say? She'd agreed to stop investigating them. She couldn't go back on that, not until she knew who she was facing.
She glanced up at the board and her heart sunk in her chest. There was one more thing she knew for certain that she hadn't added to the chart. She got up from her chair and walked up the stairs to her father's study. She went two doors down the hall and entered her bedroom, slowly walking over to her dresser in the corner. She removed the hidden key from underneath it and unlocked the first drawer. She slid it open and was met with hundreds of photographs, all the pictures she could find of her and her parents.
This was where she came on the worst nights, the ones when the gunshot would endlessly ring in her ears, the ones when she woke up and sprinted to the bathroom to try and wash her parents' blood off her hands, the ones when her voice had turned shrill from screaming.
This was where she came, back to her parents, a time before her life had fallen apart. The last time she'd visited this drawer had been after she'd confronted Matches Malone, asking for their blessing to go live with Bruce, to better herself. Some of the pictures were still stained from the tears she'd shed that night, begging her parents for guidance and forgiveness. Since then, she'd found other places to draw strength from, but this drawer, these pictures, they held a power that nearly nothing else could.
She reached to the back of the drawer, hoping to find a photograph she hadn't seen before, one that she wasn't emotionally attached to. Of course, it was no use. Every picture of her father reminded her of the great man he was. He saved lives for a living, he was kind and gentle and compassionate. He'd once helped a man whose car had broken down on the way home from a twelve hour night shift at the hospital. To her father, there was nothing more precious in the world than human life. He'd always told her that people change people. He believed he could make a difference in Gotham, change it for the better, one person at a time.
And he got a bullet in his chest for his trouble.
Three years later, she was sitting in her bedroom, questioning everything she knew about him because some lady had told her that he'd worked with her shadowy organization. She was being ridiculous. Her father was a great man.
But he'd kept secrets…just like she did.
She grabbed a photo at random, lined up her scissors, and closed them the next instant. She looked down at the two halves. It was an older picture, she was probably five or six at the oldest. Her father was holding her hand as they walked down the street. She was beaming in delight and his eyes were shining with love and pride.
She'd never seen the picture before then, or at least she didn't remember seeing it, but she regretted separating the two halves immediately.
But she'd done it, and she'd done it for a reason. She placed the other half, the picture of her littler self, on her nightstand, promising to reunite it with its partner when she was done, when she'd cleared the other half's name.
She jogged down to the study and descended into the bunker, taking a thumb tack and pinning his picture up underneath the king of spades, right next to Kathryn's queen of spades.
She examined the board again, and something suddenly clicked.
She'd made it this far by retracing her steps, starting from Bruce's lookalike all the way up to the mystery group running her company, and then back down to her father's involvement. If that'd worked so well up until now, why didn't she keep retracing her steps? She removed another card from the deck, another jack of spades (she had multiple decks of cards), and put it next to the original jack of spades, the Bruce lookalike.
She'd seen one of those black-clad assassin guys before. He'd nearly killed her.
She jogged back up the stairs, yelling for Alfred as she made her way back to her room. He rounded the corner as she reached her bedroom door. He was breathing hard. "What is it? Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.
She smiled to herself and shook her head. Once a butler, always a butler. He'd probably run from the other end of the manor. "I'm fine, Alfred. I just need you to drive me to the city." He nodded apprehensively and eyed her current outfit, old athletic shorts with a baggy Gotham Rogues hoodie that she'd never returned to Bruce. "What?" she demanded defensively.
He furrowed his brow. "You do remember that Doctor Lee Thompkins' engagement party is tonight? And you promised to attend?"
She groaned, "Ugh, I totally forgot. We'll have to make a second stop in the city." She looked down at her messy appearance. "Give me a few minutes."
He nodded and she almost made a clean getaway. Alas, he asked the million dollar question, "Where are you planning to go?"
She cringed. He wasn't gonna like this. "Pinewood Farms." His eyes went wide but she stood her ground. "I think I have a lead."
He sighed heavily, suddenly seeming years older. "Is there any way I can talk you out of this?"
"Nope."
He gave her a hard look, but she stared back. After a few moments of intense silence, he relented, dropping his shoulders in defeat. As he trudged off, he called, "I'll bring the car around whenever you're ready."
She blinked a few times in surprise. That was far easier than she'd expected. Had he finally started to trust her judgment?
Not likely. But still, she saw this as an absolute win.
She closed the door to her bedroom and headed straight for the shower. She blew out her hair, letting her curls roam wild and free, and went to her closet to pick out an outfit. She settled on an adorable pastel pink dress that ended just above her knees, along with a pair of tan wedges to give her another inch or so advantage.
She was about to walk out of her closet when she stepped on a creaky floorboard, hidden under the rug. After a quick mental debate, she pulled the rug off to the side, removed the board, and reached into the hollowed out area below. She pulled out her white mask; the one Kathryn had given her, the one that'd belonged to her father. Every time she saw it, she thought of her father's portrait in that hallway. He'd fought for this city on two fronts, as Thomas Wayne in the day and as a man in an owl mask in the night.
She raised the mask to her own face and looked up at the mirror. A stranger was staring back, a woman in an owl mask, someone with power, someone who could make a real difference in the city.
A thought crossed her mind: Which side of her father had been the real one? Thomas Wayne or the man in the owl mask?
She pushed the idea away immediately, ripping the mask off her face and stuffing it into a small purse. She put the floorboard back and pulled the rug over it. She walked over to her desk, grabbed a pencil and piece of paper, and then turned and jogged out of her room and down the hall.
She knew the answer to the question. Thomas Wayne was her father. He was a good man, flawed, yes, but good. He'd raised her to become who she was today, and he'd taken up that mask to protect her.
Yet how many times had he lied to her? To Alfred? Had he even told her mother? That mask, the very same one that was burning a hole in her purse, had gotten them both killed, and her mother might've never known the difference.
Would a good man keep secrets like that? Lie to the people he loved?
Then again, who was she to judge anyone for keeping secrets?
Out of the blue, Selina shouted at Alfred to stop the car. She'd been lost in a world of her own thoughts, nearly missing her first stop. He swerved across two lanes of traffic and screeched into a tight parking spot. He put the car into park and sunk into his seat with a sigh of relief. "Next time, Miss Wayne, if you won't tell me where we're going, it'd be best for you to pay attention."
She nodded, absentmindedly agreeing, "Yeah, sure thing, next time…" before stepping out of the car.
He shouted through the closing door, "Where are you going?!"
"I'll only be a minute," she called back as the car door slammed shut. She pulled the piece of paper out of her purse and read over the message one last time. It was awkwardly worded and the sentences were clunky but it got the point across, so it'd just have to do.
She walked up to the side of the building and pulled the fire escape ladder down to eye level. She lifted herself up onto the first platform, a gust of wind quickly reminding her that she was wearing a dress. She huffed in annoyance, making a mental note to never wear a skirt to the city, again. After securing the fabric the best she could, she scaled up the rest of the fire escape to the fifth floor. She peered inside the window, noting the very different furniture from Bruce's apartment, as well as the old married couple staring back at her.
She was off by one…
She waved and moved out of the window frame, walking to the far side of the platform. She glanced down and saw Alfred staring up at her, his jaw practically on the floor. She'd forgotten that he'd never seen her climb before... She ignored him, climbing onto the railing and pouncing across the gap to the adjacent fire escape. She caught the opposite railing and hauled herself over it. Alfred was probably having a heart attack right about now. She peaked inside the new window. Thank God, she recognized the furniture. She knocked on the glass loudly and waited for a solid minute, but no one came to open it.
He must've not been home…
She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and went to work on the window's lock. It clicked open surprisingly easy. She made a mental note to remind him to get better locks. She slid the window all the way open and placed the slip of paper on the windowsill.
With that done, she quickly dropped down the fire escape to the cement below. Alfred's eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. She walked right past him and climbed into the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Alfred eventually overcame his shock and stepped into the car as well. He cleared his throat. "Were the stairs a nonviable option?" She gave a slight shrug. "That Kyle boy taught you that didn't he?"
She smirked. "He taught me a lot more than that." Alfred scrunched up his eyebrows, probably searching for a double meaning in her words. She rolled her eyes, "And you know his name, Alfred. You don't have to call him 'that Kyle boy' anymore."
He scoffed. "Like hell I don't. I take it that was his flat?" She nodded. "You're extending the invitation to Doc Thompkins' engagement party to him?" She nodded again. "Well, I must say, I'm impressed by that Kyle boy. I assumed he lived in a gutter or something of the sort."
"Just drive. And be nice," she chided.
He huffed, muttering, "There are a thousand young men in Gotham but no…she had to pick that one."
"I thought you liked him," Selina objected. "You shook his hand and everything after the breakout."
"Because he protected you," Alfred replied quickly, pulling out of the parking spot and driving further into the city. "I do not and will never like that boy. He's dangerous."
"Maybe if you gave him a chance, he'd change your mind. He's a good guy."
"Who steals for a living."
"He doesn't do that anymore!" she objected.
"Really? Then how does he pay for that apartment?"
"He captures Strange's monsters," Selina responded. She regretted the words the second they came out of her mouth.
Alfred shook his head and sighed in exasperation. "As I said: dangerous."
She rolled her eyes and stared out the window at the city passing by. Bruce was out there somewhere. Was he dangerous? Yes, of course. But he'd never hurt her. In fact, he was his most dangerous when he was protecting her.
Some small, rebellious, asshole-ish part of her brain forced a picture to the front of her mind: Bruce's cold, dead eyes staring down at her as she faded from consciousness.
She pushed the memory down. She needed to focus. Her hand drifted to her purse where her owl mask was safely tucked away. If her hunch was correct, that mask could be the key to everything. Or it wouldn't mean a thing and she was about to get herself killed.
The car pulled up to the old, three story abandoned building. The windows were all broken or boarded up, the roof was in shambles, and the white paint had been peeled off in strips.
She'd been here once before, and she'd barely gotten out with her life.
So, naturally, she walked straight inside without a moment's hesitation. Alfred jogged after her, yelling at her to slow down and take a moment to think about this, but she was done thinking. This was ending in one of two ways: she was walking out alive with new information, or she'd be with her parents again. The former option was preferable to the latter, but she was at peace with both.
She stood in the doorway as light filled the dark, dusty hallways. The place smelled awful, even worse than it had when she'd first come here with Karen nearly a year ago. A glint in the corner of her eye grabbed her attention.
Lodged in the frame of the door was a throwing knife, the same one that the man in the black owl mask had thrown at them as they fled the building. She had half a mind to take the knife for herself, but she was already armed. There was no point in her having two knives, and even then, against someone like the guy who'd attacked them, what good would a knife do?
Still, she kept her right hand firmly on the hilt of her switchblade, hidden in her purse next to the owl mask. She took a few steps forwards, gazing around at the large foyer area.
The door slammed shut behind her.
She shrieked and drew her blade, flicking it open and whipping around to defend herself. Before she knew it, someone had twisted her wrist, her knife had clattered to the floor, and there was another blade at her throat.
As she stared up at the man in the black owl mask, she felt true dread. She couldn't see his eyes, but she had a feeling they were the same cold, dead ones as Bruce's lookalike. She raised her hands in surrender.
Alfred started banging on the door, yelling if she was alright and demanding to know what was happening inside the room. She remained silent and Alfred apparently took that as a signal to try and break the door down. He rammed it several times, but the door barely budged.
Finally, she yelled, "Alfred, stop!" and he went quiet. "I'm fine, just stay where you are!"
"What's happening in there?!" he called back.
She scoffed in annoyance, dropping her arms to her sides in a huff. "I found him, the one Kathryn sent me to introduce myself to." The man in the owl mask remained silent, but she felt his arm falter slightly at Kathryn's name. Selina put on her best billionaire-brat act and complained, "Are you gonna put the knife down now, or are you going to kill your employer?" She was grasping at straws, but it seemed to be working.
He didn't remove the knife, but he finally spoke. His voice was cold and sounded like a lifetime smoker's, like sandpaper. "Prove yourself," he rasped.
She reached into her bag and removed her white owl mask, placing it on her face. "That good enough?" she whined.
He lowered the knife and put it away, dropping into a low bow. "My sincerest apologies, Madam Selina. I did not know the Court of Owls accepted members so young. Again, my truest apologies."
The Court?
Twenty seconds in and she already had new information about the group. Also, he knew her name already, which was odd to say the least.
She nodded. "Whatever. Kathryn wanted you to debrief me on the Court's...current operations."
"Of course, Madam Selina." He reached for the back of his mask and pulled it off. He looked young, probably mid to late twenties, maybe early thirties. He had light brown hair and green eyes, and very good looking facial features. He would've been hot if it wasn't for his skin. She could see straight through it, every vein, every skeletal structure, everything. Whole patches of his flesh were peeling off, just hanging from his face. He looked like a ghost and a zombie had a kid, then sent it to the arctic to be raised by the abominable snowman.
She wanted to retch.
"Where would you like me to start, Madam Selina?" he asked, unfazed by her discomfort.
She knew the answer immediately. It'd been all she'd thought about for over three weeks. But she had to get there naturally, make sure her new friend didn't get suspicious. She needed to start slow. "What is your name?"
"Talon," the man replied.
Okay…maybe that was a code name or a nickname of something… "Talon?" He nodded. "Okay, Talon, did you throw that knife?" she asked, pointing at the blade lodged in the doorframe.
He nodded. "Yes, Madam Selina. I threw it yesterday."
She knit her brow. "Yesterday?" He nodded, his expression completely blank. "Are you sure you didn't throw it nine months ago?"
"Yes, Madam Selina, I threw it yesterday. Mission Report: Three assailants entered the compound. I stalked them and, when confronted, I moved to flush them out as I was instructed. One, Alfred Pennyworth, was armed with a pistol and was able to shoot me," he pointed to the dent in his chest armor, "the second was a former patient of Pinewood Farms, Karen Jennings, and the third was Selina Wayne, daughter of Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne, heiress to Wayne Enterprises. I reported their escape to Madam Kathryn. I returned to my post, as ordered."
She nodded, somewhat unnerved that Talon knew that he'd chased her out of Pinewood Farms (supposedly yesterday), and now was suddenly acting like her mindless servant, all because of a mask.
Before asking about Bruce, she decided to try one more question. "Talon, what year is it?"
Without a moment's hesitation, he answered, "1843."
Well…that was interesting.
So, Talon thought it was decades earlier that it actually was, he thought nine months ago was yesterday, his skin was decaying, but he looked like he was at most a thirty year old.
"Talon, can you show me your post, please?" she asked.
He nodded. "Of course, Madam Selina. Follow me." He led her deeper into Pinewood Farms, up two flights of stairs, down another pair of hallways, past a rotting corpse of the security guard Talon had killed nine months ago (which explained the horrible smell), and up a secret ladder.
They ended up in the attic. Sitting in the back, covered in cobwebs and a thick layer of dust, was a capsule, about eight or nine feet tall. It's doors hung open, revealing hundreds of needles poking out of the back of the chamber. There was a small platform, presumably where Talon would stand. Even from a few dozen feet away, Selina could feel the bitter cold emanating from the chamber.
The whole thing looked like it'd jumped straight off the page of a sci-fi novel, but here it was, very much real.
"Do you…sleep in that?" she asked through chattering teeth. She was standing across the room, yet her hands were starting to feel numb. Just how cold was it in there?
Talon didn't seem to notice the cold. He walked right up to the machine and nodded, stepping onto the ledge and taking up position. "I've been positioned here ever since Madam Kathryn found me."
Selina furrowed her brow. Now, Kathryn looked old, sure, but 1843? That was hard to believe.
She mentally took a step back and reviewed the facts (according to Talon):
One: Talon claimed to have been recruited into the Court no later than 1843.
Two: Talon claimed that Kathryn had been the one who'd recruited/found him and brought him into the Court.
Three: Both Kathryn and Talon were alive today, over a century later.
Four: Talon resembled a twenty or thirty year old man, even if his skin was disintegrating.
Five: He seemed to have no concept of time, confidently claiming that the year was 1843.
Six: Talon lived in a freezer, presumably preserving his body until he was needed.
From all of that, a new question popped up in her mind. "Talon, are there more of you? Men in the black owl masks, I mean."
He nodded. "Of course, Madam Selina. I am just one of many Talon."
"How many?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I do not know, Madam Selina. When I took my post, there were four hundred and seventy-one Talon. Although, that was only a year ago, so I predict the number has increased."
Her knees almost went out from underneath her. Four hundred and seventy-one of these people… How could she possibly find the Bruce lookalike in such a large group?
There was a crashing sound downstairs. Talon's eyes went wide and he reported in a robotic voice: "Intruder in the foyer. Alfred Pennyworth, age: 59, occupation: butler/guardian to Selina Wayne, daughter of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Shall I move to eliminate, Madam Selina?"
"No!" she stated, a bit louder than she'd meant. "No, just, stay where you are. I will deal with the butler personally."
He nodded. "Yes, Madam Selina. Do I have permission to return to my post?"
She shrugged. "Sure, yeah, whatever, do that."
"Thank you, Madam Selina," he stated before leaning back into the pod. There was a sickening sound of a hundred long needles piercing his back, but he didn't even flinch. The pod's doors closed and the cold disappeared.
She turned and sprinted back down the hallways, her mind racing with all that she'd just learned. Mid-sprint, she ripped off her mask and shoved it into her purse hastily. And it was a good thing she did, because not five seconds later she ran straight into Alfred, knocking them both flat on the floor. She recovered first and helped him to his feet.
He demanded, "Where is the son of a–?" but Selina latched onto the sleeve of his shirt and dragged him back down the stairs before he could do something stupid.
"Don't get yourself killed, please," she said over her shoulder as they neared the broken-down door.
"Are you hurt? What happened?"
"I'm fine and I was getting information from that guy before you had to go and ruin everything. Thanks for that," she complained as they neared their car. Alfred had stopped struggling so she let go of his sleeve.
"You did what?!" he demanded, all the while checking her for injuries.
"I found one of the guys in the black owl masks. They're called Talon, by the way. I convinced him I worked with Kathryn and he told me everything I wanted to know. Then someone had to break in even though I specifically said to stay put."
He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. "First off: I give the orders here, not you. This is dangerous stuff you're meddling in and I won't have you die on my watch. Second off: you didn't sound fine, and when I called your name you didn't answer so what choice did I have but to assume you'd been hurt?" He took a deep breath. "And third: what did you find?"
She smirked. "Well, I got a name for the group." He arched his brow in surprise. "They're called the Court."
"The Court? Court of what?" he asked.
She shrugged. "No idea, but that's not important." She paused, not entirely sure how to tell him the other thing she'd discovered. She settled on a direct approach. "And the Court has the secret to immortality…kind of."
Alfred blinked. "Is that a joke?"
She shook her head. "No, it isn't. The guy I talked to thought it was 1843, and he was maybe thirty years old."
He sighed heavily, opening her car door for her. "Well…that's…interesting."
She nodded, muttering, "That's a word for it." So much had happened so quickly… She finally had information on the men in the black owl masks, and it only left her with more questions. Mainly: if they'd found a method of immortality, what else could they do? Change their voices? Change their fingerprints? Their faces?
Next time, she'd start there, figure out all that the Talon could do. But for now, she knew for certain that the Bruce lookalike was one of them, and, judging by what she'd seen from the two Talons she'd run into, they were dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
She needed to keep digging, but that'd have to wait for tomorrow.
Right now, she was late for an engagement party.
He was waiting outside the building when Alfred pulled up. She saw him immediately and had to take a moment to collect herself. What was it about a suit that automatically makes a guy even hotter? He wore a simple outfit of black slacks, a white button-down, and a skinny black tie. A leather jacket was strewn casually over his shoulder.
Yeah, he was hot, no doubt about it.
Alfred cleared his throat, reminding her of his existence. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you up? I'd like to offer the bride my congratulations in person…"
She looked at Bruce, then at Alfred, and then back at Bruce. "No, I'm fine. I'll call you when we're done," she said still staring out the darkened window of the limousine.
Alfred sighed. "Of course, Miss Wayne. I'll be awaiting your call."
Selina tore her eyes away from Bruce just long enough for Alfred to see her huge smile, the joy and anticipation and uncertainty and excitement in her eyes that could only be caused by young love.
His scowl melted. How long had it been since she looked this happy, this carefree? Dare he say it, she looked like a normal teenage girl about to go on her first date. He smiled. "Selina, you are a beautiful young woman, and I cannot tell you how proud I am of who you've become," he stated. She stared at him, taken completely off guard by the rare praise. "Now go have fun before I change my mind," he ordered.
She gave him one last smile and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind her and taking a moment to straighten out her dress. The limo pulled off and she took a deep breath.
'Here we go, Cat,' she told herself. 'Don't screw this up.'
She took a step forwards and his eyes caught hers. She almost tripped on air. Quickly recovering, she slowly walked towards him, knowing full and well that he was checking her out and not a giving damn about it because she knew she was hot.
"You clean up nice," she commented, eyeing him up and down.
He smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "So do you. You should wear dresses more often."
"And you should wear that dirty old jacket less often," she rebutted.
His eyes went wide. "Oh yeah? I seem to remember you liking me in this jacket…"
"Nine months ago when it didn't reek."
He rolled his eyes and held out his arm. "Well, if you ever want to buy me a new one, feel free. You are the billionaire."
She took his hand, a warm feeling shooting up her arm as she did so. If she had a witty response to his comment about her financial situation, it wasn't coming to mind.
They followed the steady stream of people entering the building's elevator, all dressed in similarly fancy clothes to themselves. Selina watched Bruce's eyes jump from a man's watch to a woman's broach to another woman's purse to another man's wallet, all within the span of a few seconds. Once a thief, always a thief.
"Don't," she whispered in his ear.
He furrowed his brow. "Don't what?"
"Don't steal anything. Please? Just for tonight."
He sighed sadly and she elbowed him. "Fine," he mumbled. "Just for tonight."
Selina pecked him on the cheek. "Good, because you're gonna be too busy, anyways," she said as the elevator doors rolled open. She dragged him out of the car and made a beeline for Lee. After a few quick greetings, including Lee telling them extensively how she'd predicted them being a couple all along, Selina congratulated her on her engagement with Mario Falcone. Selina didn't notice, but Bruce's eyes went wide at the name and he started casually looking around the room. They eventually got out of the way for the long line of people waiting to greet her and Selina dragged him off to the dance floor.
She tried to put his arms around her waist, but he kept them firm against his sides, his brow furrowed as he scanned the room.
"What is it?" she asked, turning to follow his gaze.
"Have you seen Falcone?" he asked. "Carmine, I mean."
She scanned the room, getting up on her tippy toes to get a better angle. She shook her head. "No, I don't see him. Maybe he's late?"
Bruce nodded, but he didn't seem content with the answer. It felt odd to Selina, too. What kind of father would miss his own son's engagement party? Bruce shrugged, taking her left hand in his right and placing his other hand on her hip. "Doesn't matter..." he muttered. His eyes cleared up, master detective Bruce Kyle being replaced with easygoing, playful Bruce Kyle in a matter of milliseconds. "So, what've you been so busy with?" he asked as they started to waltz around the room.
She shook her head, waving it off. "Just following up a loose end about the secret society running my company, you know, the usual."
He smirked. "Well, if you need any help with that, let me know, okay? I'm always available."
She nodded. "Thanks…but this situation is more my expertise. If I need anyone punched, I'll let you know."
He placed his hand across his chest and mocked hurt. "How dare you! I'll have you know I can do a lot more than punch people." He smirked and waggled his eyebrows, again. "A lot more…" She stifled a laugh. He cringed, the smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. "Was that as horrible as I think it was?"
She nodded, also cringing. "Yup, it pretty much was. But, in all seriousness," she started, placing both of her arms around his neck and intertwining her fingers, "if something is seriously wrong, you'll be the first to know."
He gave a curt nod, but, to be honest, he wasn't entirely convinced. Still, they kept dancing around the floor, gaining dozens of confused looks from the fellow Gotham elites, seeing Selina Wayne dancing with some unknown boy.
On one particular song, she wrapped her arms tight around his waist and rested the side of her head on his chest. "This is way easier than I thought it'd be," she commented. "Us being a couple."
Bruce took half a step back and gave her a weird look. "Cat…this is the first time we've spoken since the Sirens. It's been three weeks."
She blushed. "Sorry. I've been busy."
He shrugged, pulling her back into his arms. "That's fair. I have been, too."
She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, "Did you have a job with the League?"
He shook his head and hummed a 'no'. "I haven't heard from them since Bludhaven. Actually, I've been going after a bounty."
"I thought all of Fish's freaks vanished a few weeks ago," she said.
"Yeah, they did. I was going after someone else, some guy named Jervis Tetch. Have you heard of him?"
She nodded. "The guy who tried to kill Jim Gordon, right?"
"That's the one. He killed his sister, impaled her on an exposed pipe."
"That's awful," she muttered.
He nodded. "Yeah, he's a real psycho, but he's in the wind right now. Cops are paying up to three thousand dollars for help finding him, but our 'beloved mayor' approved a ten thousand dollar reward for bringing him in yourself, alive of course. Even Cobblepot can't openly endorse murder…"
"Did you find anything?" she asked, holding him even tighter.
He shrugged. "I have a few leads, nothing solid, but I'm waiting for Jean to get back before I do anything too stupid."
"He's not back yet?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nah, but it's fine. This isn't the first time he's done this; disappear for a few weeks at a time, total radio silence, and then pop back up in Gotham like nothing happened. He'll be back sooner or later." He smirked. "Lucky for me, I got the apartment to myself."
She chuckled, asking, "Have you thrown any wild parties, yet?"
He scoffed. "Why would I need to throw a party when my girlfriend is always dragging me off to one?"
For a moment, Selina had a mild mental panic. Girlfriend? Who the hell was he dating? Was he back with Zee? Maybe one of his co-workers from the League? Whoever she was, Selina was gonna find that bitch and claw her eyes out…
Then, he kissed her on the forehead.
Oh…right.
She was his girlfriend.
She got all warm and tingly inside. She hugged him even tighter and put her head back on his chest, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment for all it was. She was his girlfriend. After three and a half years, he'd finally asked her out.
Was this a date?
This might be a date…
Holy shit! She was on a date! She hadn't even realized!
She got a stupid grin on her face and nuzzled up against his chest. He was her boyfriend…
No, that wasn't the right word for him. They were way past simple boyfriend/girlfriend terms. Was it technically the correct role description? Yes. But boyfriend just meant you liked a guy and wanted to date him. It felt shallow.
He was so much more than that.
Whatever safety and security she felt from that drawer of her parents' photos, his arms gave her just as much, if not even more. That drawer was full of uncertainty. No matter how pure his intentions were, those photos were tainted by her father's lies, his secrets. But Bruce? He'd never lie to her. He was a lighthouse in the storm of her life, always there, always constant.
Even three and a half years ago when he'd lived with them for two months, he was always reliable. They were so different back then, so young. Everything had been so easy.
She remembered having a snow-ball fight with bagels in her father's study. She remembered when he'd helped her conquer her fear of heights, not by defeating it, but by accepting it. She remembered stupid, insignificant stuff, like going swimming, having meals, walking around the Manor, reading in the library, stealing food from the kitchen, playing epic games of one-on-one hide-and-seek (which often lasted hours).
In every memory she had of that time, they'd been conjoined at the hip. No wonder Lee had suspected something. She'd been right all along.
Three and a half years later, here they were, two teenagers, one the heiress apparent to a Fortune 500 company, the other a professional bounty hunter and part-time assassin who prowled the streets for monsters and criminals. Sure, they'd changed a lot since those two months in the Manor, but they'd remained the same at heart, two scared kids who found peace in each other.
Was it sappy? Yes. Was she a hopeless romantic? Yes. Would Bruce laugh in her face if she said any of this aloud? Yes. But that didn't make any of it less true.
She looked up, staring at his big, dark brown eyes.
She never wanted this to change. Screw anyone who thought otherwise.
A/N: Once again, so sorry for the delay on this chapter. I've been…busy, to put it lightly. It's been a good busy and I've had a great couple of weeks, and some of my busyness has been of my own choice (such as playing through the entire Batman Arkham Trilogy and watching almost all of Young Justice Season 1), so sorry about that. Like I said, I really wanted to get this one right because it's such an important chapter for both Selina's investigation into the Court (which she now knows the name of) and the BatCat arc.
And, finally, the Jack Napier Chapter is next up (the plot of which was foreshadowed in this chapter). It will definitely not be out this Sunday, but I'll try and get it out either mid-week or the next weekend because I'm actually going on a short vacation with my extended family (which is not optional) and I won't have access to my laptop or the internet so…yeah. Thanks again for your patience.
If you enjoyed or have any comments/critiques/concerns about the chapter, please make sure to Review! Also, we are so close to 100 Favs/Follows, so if you have an account and you haven't done that yet, please do! I don't like asking for them but it would really mean a lot to pass that milestone since it's something I've never done before. So yeah, thanks for reading and ciao for now!
