A/N: So, life is nuts. I love writing this story but it takes a lot of time that I simply don't have. These updates are gonna be coming out very inconsistently depending on my workload. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I promise I'm seeing this story through to the end because I've put forty chapters of work into this and I'm almost halfway to the end so there's no way in hell I'm giving up. Also…forty chapters. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? It seems like just the other day I thought to myself, "huh…what if Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle had been switched at birth? I'm sure someone has already done a series on that…HOLY SHIT NO ONE HAS DONE A SERIES ON THAT YET HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT I GOT DIBS!" This experience has been an amazing one and I love you all. Thank you for sticking with me all this time.
Warning: BATCAT FLUFF INCOMING. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Anyways, here's Chapter 40(!) of Roles Reversed. Hope you enjoy!
Is This a Date? Pt. 2
Compared to Lee's Engagement Party, the Founders Dinner was a completely different level of high society.
Selina had been forced to attend for the past three years, being the last living Wayne. She usually just finished the meal quickly and left early, making up some cute excuse like having to do homework or just pulling the 'I'm a child and I'm tired' card. This year, however, she would have backup.
His name was Bruce, and he was about five seconds from pulling his hair out. He'd redone his tie more times than Selina could count. It was odd to see someone who was normally calm and cool and collected pushed to the brink of insanity over a high-society dinner.
Finally, she knocked his hands away from his necktie and did it herself, chiding, "You're way too worked up over this."
He rolled his eyes, watching her hands as she fixed it. "Shouldn't I be? You said the dinner is awful."
She shrugged. "Well, yeah, it is, but that's because I had to go alone. Unlike today…" She smiled up at him, tugging on his tie to bring his face down to hers. She kissed him and said through a grin, "You'll be fine."
He scoffed and turned to the mirror, straightening his shirt and tie and jacket. His hair had been neatly parted combed to the side and gelled to keep it out of his face, and he'd shaven just that morning so his face was clean and smooth. The suit fit him just about perfectly. It felt a little tight, but Selina didn't seem to mind.
She wore a simple black dress that hung to her mid-thigh, with a few gold bracelets and black flats. She looked amazing. Meanwhile, he was a frazzled, sweaty mess.
Almost sensing his anxiety, she wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled against his back. "B…" she mumbled, "relax. We'll be in and out before you know it." She turned him around and took his hands in her own. "Then we can go get a real dinner, my treat."
He snorted and pulled her into a hug. "As if I'd let you pay."
There was a light knock on the study door. Alfred cleared his throat expectantly, asking, "Miss Wayne, are you and Mr. Kyle ready to depart?"
She nodded, tucking Bruce's tie into his suit and leading him out of the safety of the study. Tonight, he was Bruce Kyle, heir to a reclusive, rich family in Coast City, long-time friend of Selina Wayne and her date to the Founder's Dinner. Hopefully he wouldn't have to bring up his back-story, but it was better safe than sorry. There would be no media presence at the dinner, so he wouldn't have to worry about the tabloids digging up the truth about his identity.
They stepped into the limousine and started north, away from Gotham. He found it odd that the Founder's Dinner was held so far from the city they were celebrating founding. Representatives of all four of the Founding Families would be in attendance, exempting the exiled, and now extinct, Duma Clan. Along with the Founders would be the mayor, important politicians and businessmen, judges and kingpins, the most elite of Gotham.
Bruce had a sneaking suspicion that Ra's would be there. If what they'd told him about the League's involvement in Gotham was true, he was as much of a Founder as anyone.
Yet, the League hadn't contacted him in over two months, ever since Bludhaven. Jean was still in the wind, chasing down whatever lead he thought he'd found. Lead on what? Bruce didn't want to know. Jean could be…volatile, to put it lightly. There was good in him, too, no doubt. No one was all bad, besides maybe Jack. But some of the things he'd done in the past were just plain wrong. It was good they were on the same side now. Jean Paul-Valley was a bad enemy to have.
Selina poked him a couple of times. "You good?" she asked, a concerned smile on her face.
He nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"You were thinking," she stated. "That's never good. Talk to me. What's going on up there?" she asked, playfully poking his forehead.
He shrugged, glancing out the window. They were alone on a road in the middle of nowhere. Massive oak trees loomed over them like buildings. He felt uncomfortable out here, vulnerable, like he was trespassing. This wasn't Gotham.
He muttered, "I'm just nervous."
"Well don't be. I'll handle everything. Just smile and look pretty, ok? Can you do that?" she teased.
He grinned. "I thought that was your job?"
She slapped him and then grabbed his hand. "I'll be right next to you the whole time, okay? We don't have to be there long, just for dinner."
He nodded, almost feeling better about the nest of vipers they were walking into.
Almost.
The trees loomed just as large, with or without Selina at his side.
The house they arrived at was as beautiful as it was haunting. The mansion was a quarter the size of Wayne Manor, with grand, translucent windows and gothic style architecture. A yellow glow shown through glass and lit the house with a warm haze. It would've been comforting without the long, twisting shadows created by the trees, or the conveniently placed graveyard jutting off the side of the house.
The worst part was the quiet. He hated quiet. There was no such thing in Gotham. It felt so…wrong. There were no cars driving by, no hum of foot traffic, no ac units providing a natural buzz in the background, no nothing. Even for a forest, the place was eerily quiet. No birds singing or crickets chirping. Dead silence surrounded the haunting abode.
Selina took his hand. Judging by her expression, she was creeped out, too. "Come on," she mumbled, "sooner we get inside, the sooner we can leave."
He nodded, but they remained frozen there for a few seconds. She took a deep breath and started towards the house, pulling him along with her.
Something just felt…off. He didn't like it.
The door opened as they approached, an ancient man (older than Alfred even) in a well-fitting suit giving them a toothless smile. He bowed low as they approached, announcing, "Welcome, Miss Wayne, Mr. Kyle–"
A sound from behind them cut off whatever the man was going to say next. Bruce and Selina both whipped around, Bruce clenching his fists and Selina reaching to her forearm where her knife was usually hidden (although tonight she'd elected to leave it at home in exchange for Bruce's presence). A snow white owl zipped out of sight, disappearing into the tree line as quickly as it appeared.
They turned back to the old man who escorted them inside, moving with the pace of a turtle riding a slug. It was a shock the man was still alive, let alone moving around.
He led them into a cozy sitting room. Twenty or so men and women, all dressed in fancy clothing, were mingling about, laughing loudly and drinking and gossiping and having a merry old time.
It came as a shock to Bruce, a complete contrast to the exterior of the building.
He saw the District Attorney having a drink with an Uptown kingpin who was missing his left hand (presumably from having it chopped off). A chief justice was sitting in the corner with an ancient woman from one of the four families.
Selina elbowed him in the side, a sly (yet relieved) grin on her face. "See, nothing to worry abo–"
She stopped mid sentence, earning a concerned glance from Bruce. He followed her stare. An old woman (Bruce was starting to sense a theme) was sitting across the room by herself, quietly reading a book that looked just as old as her, maybe even older.
"Who's that?" Bruce asked.
Selina quickly waved him off. "Kathryn…" She stalled for a few seconds, starting to say something else, but thinking better of it and closing her mouth.
Bruce scanned the old woman. Her long, almost skeletal structure was unsettling and odd, yet undeniably regal. She wore a solid white dress with a matching blazer, her elegantly styled white hair matching it perfectly. She sat in a wheel chair by the fireplace, a young gentleman with a completely blank expression standing behind her, his jet black suit a sharp contrast to her attire.
Selina placed a hand on his arm and put on a smile. "I'm gonna go say hi. Why don't you go find us drinks?"
Before he could respond, she'd started across the room towards Kathryn. He watched her go, a pit forming in his stomach.
So much for sticking together…
He walked off in the other direction towards the small open bar. Waiters milled about with glasses of wine, but, with both of them being underage, he decided on a pair of waters instead.
An unsettlingly familiar voice behind him squawked, "Bruce Kyle! What a surprise…"
Shit.
He begrudgingly turned around, his worst fears becoming reality. He gave a small bow to the short man, greeting in a low voice, "Mr. Mayor. Pleasure to see you, again."
Cobblepot waved his hand in disgust. "Oh please, Bruce, call me Oswald. We've known each other far too long for such formality," he insisted.
"Yes, yes we have," Bruce agreed.
Of course the Mayor would be here.
Why hadn't he thought of this before?
"So, how is it, running Gotham?" Bruce asked, attempting to be cordial.
Oswald shrugged. "Well, it's not my first time running this city, is it?"
Bruce furrowed his brow, glancing around the living room. "Are we still in the city?"
Penguin chortled. "I have no idea. Although, if we were, most of these people wouldn't have shown up." He sighed sadly. "It is truly a shame that none of them love our city the way we do."
"We?" asked Bruce incredulously. "Gotham's tried to kill me more times than I can count. It can burn for all I care."
Oswald snorted. "Unfortunately, I feel that your viewpoint is shared among many of our fellow guests tonight. However, I believe men like you and I can change this city." He paused for a moment, licking his chops. "In fact, I believe I have just the role for you in my empire, if you're interested. With me running Gotham in the light, someone needs to control the Underworld…someone that I can trust."
Bruce sighed, remembering the similar pitch Oswald had made him a few months prior back in the Sirens. "I told you already, I'm not interested in anything you're selling. I have a life now. I don't need to steal to survive anymore."
"Why survive when you can thrive?" Penguin countered. "I'll have you living like a Wayne within a week of you joining me."
Bruce shook his head. "I'm sorry, Oswald. I'm just not interested. I'm happy where I'm at. You can find someone else to run your criminal empire. I have more important things in my life."
"Like Selina Wayne?" Oswald asked in a seemingly innocent tone, even though Bruce could see the malice dripping from his eyes. "Well done, I must say, working your way up that high. Although, I must ask, how long do you think your relationship with Miss Wayne will last? Relationships are a complicated business–"
Bruce should've kept his mouth shut. Instead, he growled, "Well you would know, wouldn't you? With Edward Nygma and all…"
Penguin's expression changed from confidence to rage in a matter of moments. "You little piece of–"
"Relax, Oswald," Bruce told him, regretting his threat and trying to do damage control. "Your secret is safe with me. I harbor no resentment towards you, and I hope you feel the same. If you stay out of my life, I'll stay out of yours, okay?"
Penguin's jaw clenched and unclenched. He put on his fakest smile and nodded. "Yes, I think those would be acceptable terms. It was nice seeing you, again, Mr. Kyle."
Bruce nodded. "And you, Mr. Mayor."
Selina stared down Kathryn. Why was she here? Well obviously she was an important figure in Gotham, far more so than the majority of the people there, but seeing her in broad daylight was a shock (kind of like an owl).
Kathryn raised her eyes from the paper as Selina approached, an almost genuine smile stretching across her long, bony face.
"Miss Wayne," she greeted passively. "How are you?"
Selina nodded. "I'm doing well, thank you, Kathryn. And you?"
Kathryn gave a light shrug. "I'm well," she stated simply. "It has been quite some time since I attended this dinner. Ever since my legs left me, I've found adventuring outside of my accommodations quite bothersome. In fact, the last Founders Dinner I attended was with your father. It was his last attendance, unfortunately…"
Selina felt a surge of anger rising in her stomach.
Over the past few weeks, she'd learned more and more about the Court. Several weeks ago when she'd returned to Pinewood Farms, she'd started to build a relationship with one of the Court's Talon. She'd gone back three more times since then to speak with him, trying to learn as much as possible about what the Talon could do exactly.
In particular, she was curious if they could change their faces, or at least create convincingly realistic masks.
Bruce had been looking down at her that night. It was his face, his eyes.
As far as her Talon informant was aware, no such ability existed among their ranks (at least not when he'd been stationed). So maybe it'd been developed after he'd been put in his capsule, or maybe there was only one of the Talon who could do it. Either way, she'd arrived at a dead end.
She'd been able to reach one conclusion though: Kathryn was holding back information. There was some secret among the Court that, if exposed, would bring down the whole operation. Selina had a bad feeling that it had something to do with Bruce. She hated Kathryn. She hated the Talon. She hated the whole goddamn Court.
But being rude to Kathryn wouldn't get her anywhere, so she put on a meek smile and nodded. "Yes, well the past is the past…"
"But we must never forget it, should we?" Kathryn asked.
"No, we mustn't," Selina agreed, matching her stare. "It was nice to see you, Kathryn, but my date is waiting."
"Ah, yes, please do wish Mr. Kyle my best. He is an upstanding young gentleman, is he not? At least, for his line of work…"
Selina's stomach twinged again. Kathryn knew full and well that someone who looked like Bruce had abducted her the night they first met. It felt like she was teasing Selina, dangling the loose strings in front of her before ripping them out of her reach, like she was playing with a kitten. She didn't like to be played with.
Selina didn't smile, she didn't even respond to Kathryn's question or her less than subtle jab. Instead, she stated, "Well I have other guests to greet, so goodbye, Kathryn."
Her face flickered with annoyance at being brushed off, but she nodded and went back to reading her book.
Selina found Bruce, holding two glasses of water. His hands were shaking. She steadied one of them as she took her glass, asking, "You alright, B?"
He gave a small nod. "Cobblepot cornered me. Offered me a spot in his empire." He snorted. "Well, it wasn't really an offer."
"Why does he want you so badly?" asked Selina.
He shrugged. "I'm good at what I do. People respect me for the most part. But, first and foremost…" he lowered his voice, "I can handle Jack."
"Napier?" Selina asked.
Bruce nodded again. "He's been getting more aggressive lately. He and Penguin have never fought before, mainly because if Jack tried to take him down right now, he'd end up at the bottom of a river. Penguin is too strong, especially with the support of the mayor's office behind him. But things are changing…" He trailed off, scanning the room for eavesdroppers and lowering his voice even more before continuing, "A lot of people want to see Penguin taken down. The king has always has enemies, especially when he climbed over so many people to get to his throne. And now that he can't spend all of his time suppressing the people who want him out, the sentiment is starting to spread."
"But why Jack of all people?" Selina asked incredulously. "He's worse than Penguin."
"I agree, but no one else has as much pull as him, besides Penguin. He's the only other option."
"Why are there never good options for leaders nowadays?" Selina moaned.
Bruce shrugged. "Great time to be growing up, huh?"
"So, why wouldn't you take the position?" Selina asked. "If you'd be keeping Jack down then wouldn't working for Penguin be a good thing?"
Bruce shook his head. "If Jack is gonna take over Gotham, I'm not getting in his way. Too big a risk. If war breaks out, I'm gonna be nowhere near it."
Selina furrowed her brow. His hand had stopped shaking but his eyes were still darting around the room. He looked more paranoid than scared now.
He sighed and lamented, "So that was my conversation. How was yours?" he asked, nodding at where the old lady in the wheelchair had been sitting a few minutes before. She must have rolled off somewhere…
"Oh, nothing. We just talked about my dad and political stuff," all of which was technically true…
Bruce grimaced. "Cat…" he practically growled.
She clenched her jaw for a few seconds, then sighed. "I'm sorry."
He looked away from her, saying in a low voice, "I thought we agreed: no more lies." His tone wasn't one of anger, just disappointment. She would've rather him be angry.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Old habits. It's just…" she looked around the room, instinctively trying to find a way to change the subject. She stopped herself and took a deep breath, reminding herself exactly why Bruce was here with her tonight. "I'm sorry, Bruce. It's just…this…not keeping secrets, it's weird for me. Okay? It's weird for me."
He cracked a small grin. "It's weird for me, too. But the truth gets easier the more you tell."
"I'm sorry, Bruce," she said as he hugged her. "I'm sorry." She whispered, "But not here. She's here. I'll tell you everything when we get home. Deal?"
He nodded and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Deal."
The ancient man who'd escorted them inside walked into the sitting room and rang a bell, announcing in a raspy, weak voice, "You may now take your seats in the dining hall."
The guests filtered inside, taking their respective seats around a long dining room table. There were 16 chairs in all, split across the table. There was no chair at the head of the table, nor the bottom. It sent a message that everyone in attendance was an equal.
Bruce didn't feel that way.
He recognized the majority of the people in attendance, all of them highly important.
Then there was him, a street-rat.
They brought out glasses of the darkest red wine Bruce had ever seen, placing a glass in front of every attendee besides himself and Selina. The waiting staff was a stark contrast to the old man. Two of the men were behemoths, probably employed by Penguin or another one of the more corrupt members. The other was a small man with long, curly dark hair and even darker eyes. He wore a persistent smile that felt both comforting and unsettling. He seemed familiar…
Penguin glared at him and Bruce noticed the red stain on his formerly white shirt.
The servant had spilled wine on Penguin?
Yeah, forget the unsettling part. Bruce liked this guy already.
He weaved his way around the table, exchanging quick dialogue with several of them before disappearing into the back, along with the two hulking masses of men.
No one touched the drinks, seemingly waiting for something. Bruce started to reach for his water glass but Selina elbowed him, shaking her head no.
She whispered, "Wait for the food."
"Why?" Bruce asked.
"Because," she shot back.
He rolled his eyes and sat back, listening to the quiet small talk taking place around the table. The wine filled the room with a potent scent. He'd never been around such strong drinks before, so maybe that was normal and he was just uncultured. No one else seemed to mind the scent, so he didn't either.
Finally, after his stomach had growled a baker's dozen of times, the plates were brought out. As much as he wanted to leave, the food smelled irresistible. They placed a platter down in front of all of them and then removed the covers, filling the room with the scent of Italian food.
His stomach was begging like a dog by that point.
Bruce grabbed his fork and prepared to stuff himself to the brim with spaghetti and meatballs until the end of time.
Then, the kitchen doors slammed open, and the three waiters came back into the dining room, dressed differently from before. Instead of simple black suits and vests, the small man wore an elaborate brown trench coat and black, fur top hat, carrying a can he probably didn't need and studying the room with a wicked fascination. The two huge men still wore their waiter outfits, but they'd ripped the sleeves off to show their massive arms. If their bulging muscles weren't intimidating enough, they each held identical sawed-off shotguns.
The little man fired his revolver at the ceiling, silencing the room. Bruce, who'd immediately started to move from his seat, slowly returned to it.
Penguin, always the diplomat, demanded, "What is this? What is going on? Do you have any idea who I am?"
The little man simply smiled, replying, "I'm afraid your evening has been hijacked, Mr. Mayor…" He placed the barrel of his gun on Penguin's chest, lamenting, "I see the champagne left a mark. My apologies, truly…" He grinned and removed the pistol, announcing, "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Jervis Tetch. I promise not to take up too much of your time. But the fact is, you are the heads of Gotham. And tonight…the heads of Gotham will roll. But first…a toast. A drink to your health."
Penguin sneered at the wine. "And if we don't?"
Tetch glared at him, warning, "Change, my friends, is nigh. Drink the wine…" he put the gun up to Penguin's head, "or else you die."
This entire exchange, Bruce had been searching for a way out of the room, away from the guards. He had a knife in his belt, easily reachable from where his hands had already been resting, but what good would that do against two shotguns and a revolver? Even if he could draw it and attack, who was to say the other guests could escape unharmed? Selina would find a way out if he attacked, that much he was certain, but the possibility of civilian casualties was too great.
Then again, so what if these other people died? He and Selina were the farthest down the table from where the three men were standing, blocking the main entrance to the dining room. There was a side door leading out of the room not a few feet away from them. If he could cause a big enough distraction, they could make it. Others would get caught in the crossfire, but they could get out…
No. He scolded himself for even considering that as a reasonable possibility. There had to be another way. He knew drinking the wine would be suicide (at least for the others). Tetch seemingly didn't realize they weren't drinking the wine.
Okay, so Tetch had made a mistake. How could Bruce take advantage of that?
He studied the two shotguns, double-barreled sawed-offs. Judging by the look, they were older models. Assuming that both shotguns could only hold two shells, that was four shots at the maximum between the two behemoths. Judging by how they were holding the guns, they didn't have much experience using the firearms. They were holding the guns at eye level against their shoulders, even though the guns didn't have stocks. From all that, he suspected they'd end up pulling down both triggers at once if they fired the guns, meaning they'd only really have two shots total (and they would probably have a hard time aiming them as the recoil would be further emphasized by their poor posture).
Meanwhile, Tetch was holding a six-shooter revolver, one bullet of which he'd already fired into the ceiling to intimidate them. That meant there were a total of seven to nine shots that could be fired into the group without reloading.
That was too many.
So a head on approach wouldn't be successful, and escaping was highly unlikely with their captor's choice of firearms.
The best chance he had of getting out was to go along with Tetch's demands and wait for an opportunity to present itself.
Meanwhile, Selina was riding a completely different train of thought. Jervis Tetch…she'd heard about him. He'd been hunting his sister down for years before finally cornering her in Gotham. She'd ended up falling to her death, but there was supposedly something different about her blood. She looked at the glasses of wine that'd been given to the guests. Crimson red, as all wine was, but a perfect shade to conceal the girl's blood.
She thought she'd smelled something funny in the air.
The question became: what was in Alice Tetch's blood? Poison? That was the only real possibility. Yet, why go through all this trouble to poison them? Surely there were better ways to kill a small group of people. A bullet would suffice.
So it couldn't just be poison, there had to be something else at play, some other factor that only Tetch was aware of.
She glanced over at Bruce, his hand halfway to his knife. She breathed loudly, just enough to get his attention, and mouthed the word, "Don't."
He kept his expression blank, but she could see the wheels turning in his eyes. Surely he had to have a plan, right? He was always great in these situations. He'd find a way out of here…
His shoulders drooped slightly, and he stared hard at the mahogany table.
The message he sent was clear: they were stuck. There was no way out.
She looked around the table as everyone started to raise their glasses to their mouths. She did the same, hoping and praying for someone, anyone, to come help them. Bruce mirrored her, his eyes darting around the table.
Everyone drank the wine, Tetch insisting on them finishing it before being allowed to set the glasses down. Bruce and Selina finished their waters, then stopped and watched.
One by one the men and women of the Founder's Dinner finished their wine, and then sat and waited for what was to come next. Several tense moments of silence passed.
Then, the first person started coughing. Bruce didn't think much of it until the next person started coughing, and then the next. Then it was Penguin who was coughing.
The whole table besides himself and Selina fell into fits of coughing and gagging. One fell out of his seat and started seizing up on the floor.
Bruce sat up on the balls of his feet, preparing to spring away from the table were things to go to bad. Selina, being on the end of the table, moved her chair slightly away from it.
Gradually, the coughing died down and people started picking themselves back up. However, there was something different about them. Their eyes were completely dilated. Their expressions resembled that of wild animals.
Tetch cackled with glee.
"Run," Selina whispered, just as the mansion in the woods descended into hell.
A/N: Not gonna lie, I was originally planning to resolve this conflict within this chapter, but the next one feels kinda shallow whereas this chapter was jam-packed with important story moments so I'm gonna wait to finish their confrontation with Tetch until next time (which shouldn't be too long from now).
Also, am I becoming predictable? I'm asking because someone reviewed: "When someone in the Gotham universe says "She never wanted this to change. Screw anyone who thought otherwise". Something BIG, is going down" and I laughed out loud when I read it because yeah you're right. I won't lie to you guys: things are gonna go wrong quickly. They started this chapter and it really doesn't get better from here. Sorry, but that's the way BatCat goes. We're only halfway through this season and about halfway through the series, so don't expect things to go too right. We have a long ways to go before the happily ever after.
Anyways, thanks for keeping up and checking up with me so much. If you're ever concerned about whether or not I'm continuing this series, don't be. I love this story so much. It's a huge part of my life that I've spent years working on, and I'm not abandoning it.
So I hope you enjoyed and, if you did, please make sure to review. Thanks for reading and ciao for now!
