Chapter 14 – Fifty First Dates with Bruce Wayne
At this point, there was nothing left to do but regard each date as the first. Precedence required it. To keep track of the running total, and how many official vs. unofficial resets had occurred, would only drive them mad. Each time was a chance to start anew, no matter where previous dialogues had left them. It was unorthodox, yet also reassuring. The pressure to maintain an unbroken streak was lifted.
There was, however, still a sizable pile of unfinished business between them. But piece by piece, they chipped away at it as spring evolved into summer.
Lounging on Bruce's sumptuous yacht one summer evening, Selina sipped from a fluted glass, luxuriating in the many benefits of dating Bruce Wayne. Not least among them was the way he looked in a pair of swim trunks. He slid onto the bench next to her, tanned legs brushing up against hers.
"Enjoying the boat ride?" he nonchalantly asked.
"Sure, it takes me back to the fishing boat my dad used to take me out on," Selina nudged him playfully in the ribs.
"Naturally," he grinned back. "It's exactly the same!"
Squinting through her sunglasses at the setting sun, Selina bit her lip. "Bruce, we've done a lot of talking these past few months, but there's one thing we forgot to address."
"What's that?"
"That Barbara woman… from the art festival last year," Selina said doubtfully. "I've been afraid to ask… what was she so upset about?"
"Oh," Bruce breathed out, then slowly back in. "Barbara. Of course. It's a little embarrassing," he warned. "She's the police commissioner's daughter, and a while back he asked me if I had any job openings for her at Wayne Enterprises. There was one, and she went through a series of interviews, but…"
Selina leaned in, intrigued.
"…the HR manager got the impression she only wanted the job to get closer to me," Bruce revealed. "They never offered her the job. But Barbara was so sure she'd get it that she bought a huge designer wardrobe, and moved into a high-rise apartment near corporate HQ."
Selina grimaced. "She cashed her checks before they were written."
"She blames me for the whole ordeal. Wants me to pay restitution for all that."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Her judgment's probably compromised by her feelings for me."
Pleasantly surprised, Selina regarded him with awe. "Nicely done! Now who's playing psychologist?"
Bruce shrugged one shoulder. "Guess you're rubbing off on me a little."
"Glad to hear it," she smiled. She opened her mouth halfway, then reconsidered. Her next question was going to be about Dick. Bruce had answered most of her questions regarding the boy, but that was actually the problem. She knew how Batman had saved him from an alley knife fight the day he escaped the orphanage. She knew why Bruce needed to temporarily keep Dick's identity and location a secret, to shelter him from any further attacks while he tracked down the criminals.
And above all, she knew that during their initial month-long separation, Bruce wasn't just wallowing in unproductive sulking. He was developing a training program for Dick – and then practicing it with him. During those early days, not even Alfred was aware of Dick's presence at the manor. It gave Selina great solace knowing she wasn't the only one Bruce had kept in the dark.
His long-term goal for Dick, on the other hand, gave her great reservation.
If the boy hadn't already been injured during training exercises, maybe she'd feel a little less concerned. But when Alfred called the restaurant that one night, it was to inform Bruce that Dick had fractured his wrist while training unsupervised. Bruce had lectured Dick extensively about safety protocols after that, but the fact remained that the boy was four years younger than Bruce was when he began training. It all struck Selina as unwise, unsafe, and unsettling.
She'd mentioned her misgivings to Bruce before, though not too strongly. She knew to tread lightly with him on matters of orphans, justice, and vengeance. Besides, Dick had suffered no further injuries since, and he seemed happy enough in his new home – although Selina couldn't imagine anyone being unhappy with a butler's concierge and tasteful opulence in every room.
Maybe she'd revisit the topic another night. Things were too idyllic right now to disrupt.
She was just finishing that thought when Bruce cleared his throat. "Selina, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, too."
"Go ahead."
"Would you ever… consider an alternate career?"
Selina tensed and her eyes darted around the horizon. "You mean, stop being Catwoman?"
"Basically," he admitted, bracing for impact.
She said nothing, torn between relief that they were finally having this discussion, and resentment that it needed to happen in the first place. Why did he feel the need to moralize everything? He understood the circumstances that had railroaded her into this life. She'd explained that she only stole from corrupt businesses or individuals, and whatever she didn't need for her own cost of living went to charities. He knew all of that. He'd even compared her to Robin Hood.
But here on this boat, he wasn't questioning her original motives, or even her current rationalizing. He was asking about her future. Their future.
How much longer could they ignore the fact that their Venn diagrams didn't overlap completely? That there was a core, fundamental distinction between them, no matter how similar the fabric of their respective costumes?
He'd always be the one with a hero complex, and she'd always be the complicated, tortured thief… wouldn't they? How could they possibly be anything else?
"Would you ever consider not being Batman?" she countered.
It was his turn to bristle. "I don't blur the line between good and evil."
"And you'd prefer that I didn't, either."
He didn't confirm or deny her statement. He didn't have to. His feelings were obvious, and certainly nothing new.
"What would I do instead, Bruce?" Selina wondered. "Teach fourth grade at Gotham Central Elementary School?"
"Maybe a competitive cheer coach at a high school," Bruce adjusted the scenario.
Selina rolled her eyes. "Dealing with a dozen bratty, entitled teenagers every day. Yeah, sounds like a dream job!"
"You could open a dance studio."
That… didn't actually sound half bad, if Selina was honest. But that wasn't the point. Bruce was proposing a radical, thunderous change to her life, without so much as examining his own. Fairness mattered a great deal to her. There needed to be give and take.
"And if I did, what then?" she handed it back to him. "I'd be what, reformed? But you'd get to go on as always?"
Bruce frowned slightly, not understanding the question. Of course he'd continue being Batman. Why would she bother questioning that?
"If I have to give up my coping mechanism, why shouldn't you?" Selina reasoned.
Now he understood. She saw them as equally dysfunctional, irrelevant of their different styles. His heroism didn't matter to her – his psychological profile did. And that was a matter entirely too massive to fit on a yacht, even one as large as Bruce's.
"I'll have get back to you on that," he responded curtly.
