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When Selina Kyle leaves for Bludhaven, Batman follows. It just isn’t in the way that she expects, and thinking about it makes her heart flutter in a way that’s admittedly terrifying from the newfound vulnerability that comes with such an intense feeling. She thinks that leaving will help her escape from her past- including him- but ultimately, it makes her feelings for the vigilante even stronger.
It starts with phone calls and the occasional text; he needs help with spy work, he says. He needs help with investigations and crime fighting, prison breaks and bomb threats, evading the police and a million other things. Selina doesn’t mind at first, as most of the ‘help’ he needs is just talking out his plans with her. She can keep her distance and keep her walls up that way. He’s in Gotham and she’s in Bludhaven, after all. It shouldn’t be hard.
But alas, she figures out his motives quickly because they align with hers, and he needs her help for the same reason she helps him any time he asks. She misses him, and he misses her, but things aren’t the same as they were while she was in Gotham. They’ve grown apart, grown into different people, and it’s been more than two years now.
At first, she thinks that the more time they spend apart, the more she falls in love- not with him, but with the idea of him and what they could be if not for his convictions and his work. When she goes to Gotham and sees him again because he needs some in-person ‘help’, she quickly puts it together that not only was she wrong, but she’s even more smitten by him than she was before.
He finds out when she was supposed to be in Gotham again and asks for her help breaking into Penguin’s house; something about a murder at one of the many clubs the man frequents. Selina stupidly agrees, and that’s why she inevitably ends up in the vigilante’s arms with a blindfold over her eyes and a six inch gash on her arm from a weaponized, broken glass bottle that had been used against her following one of Penguin’s goons finding herself and vengeance intruding. They got what they needed and escaped rather seamlessly despite the violent encounter, but even with the gauze on her arm, they both know that it’s too deep and too wide of a wound to leave without stitches of some sort, and going to a hospital isn’t exactly an option given who she is, what her money situation is like, and how it had happened.
So, they make their way through Gotham in the batmobile with Batman insisting Selina put on a fucking blindfold so she won’t see wherever it is he’s driving her to. Irritated, she acquiesces and allows herself to be driven and led to wherever they are now.
“Care to let me see and tell me where the fuck we are?”
“Oh,” She hears his voice; low and quiet as his hands begin to work on the knot of the blindfold. “We’re… Well, I can’t disclose the location, but we’re safe. Here.”
When the blindfold is untied, she notices that Batman is the most anxious she’s seen him since she was attacked during the Riddler bombings, pacing around the room with a frantic look about him. Part of her is endeared by how much he worries, but the other part of her is fed up with how her anxiety feeds off of his, wishing he would calm down so she could as well.
“It’s just us, vengeance ,” Selina tries to reassure him, because despite most of his face being covered by his cowl, she can see the panic swirling around in his sea-foam eyes as she sits down on the edge of a bed in a room that she doesn’t recognize. She knows she hasn’t been here before- it’s much too nice; perfectly clean and adorned with a fancy furniture set consisting mostly of black wooden pieces with gold accents. A plush white carpet meets her boot-covered feet, and the giant mattress she’s sitting on is made with silk sheets that seem to have a ridiculously high thread count. “Settle down.”
“Stop calling me vengeance ,” Batman scolds her- something he does when he’s unsettled- then moves around the room and hurriedly looks through his many drawers. Selina simply chuckles and watches him as she holds the gauze to her bicep in an attempt to lessen the bleeding. While Batman is calm, collected, and confident, the man currently in front of her is not. He’s dripping with anxiety and fear over what she considers a minor injury, and it makes her wonder if who she’s seeing right now is the man he really is underneath the persona he puts on for the citizens of Gotham- if, in his day to day life, he’s always an anxious, scatter-brained, disastrous mess who freaks out over a gash even though his nights are spent solving gory murders and beating criminals to a pulp. “That’s not my name.”
“You won’t tell me your name,” She laughs and rolls her eyes as he awkwardly stalks over with what appears to be a first aid kit in his gloved hands and kneels down on the ground in front of her. “What do you suggest I call you instead? I can’t just refer to you as Batman forever, can I?”
“You could,” He shrugs and opens the first aid kit, pulling out a variety of items. Selina doesn’t even recognize some of them. “But I don’t expect you to.”
“Fair.”
It’s early morning as church bells begin to ring in the distance. Through the obnoxiously large window, Selina admires how the pitch black sky begins to turn orange, yellow, and pink at the horizon. Even after absorbing the sight, she continues to look in an attempt to distract herself as Batman gets to work on her arm; disinfectant that burns like hell, numbing agent that she doesn’t think he should legally have, stitches, and bandages. She counts to a hundred backwards, forwards, and backwards again in her head to focus on anything other than the pain, a few curses coming out from between her gritted teeth that are immediately met by his hushed apologies. When it’s done, she looks at the bandaged area and feels a bit nauseous.
“Better?” Batman asks, and it’s not better, really- the stitches are a little messy and Selina is shaking in some cacophony of pain, shock, and embarrassment, but while Selina’s wound continues to pester her, her heart feels like some of the pieces were just put back together from where they shattered so many years ago from the tenderness of it all, and maybe that’s what the vigilante had been inquiring about in the first place.
“It’s fine,” She answers, dryer than intended as she stops to take him in. “Why did you call me tonight?”
Selina doesn’t think about the question before she asks it- one minute, she’s staring at him, and the next minute, she’s spewing nonsense that she knows is spurred on by the fact that she misses him and wants to hear what she already knows; that he misses her too . She has the epiphany that she’s sick of them skirting around each other and pretending that things are how they used to be when they’re not, not telling each other the truth about the feelings when they should either put everything on the table or go their separate ways once and for all.
“Didn’t I tell you?” He tilts his head and remains sitting on the floor, his knees now pulled to his chest. “I needed your help. You were in town, so-”
.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” She spits and crosses her arms over her chest, that of which is merely clad in a sports bra since her shirt had to be discarded from all the blood on it. “I mean, really? With all this money and all these gadgets you have, you don’t need my help-”
“Tell me this, then. If I don’t need you, why do you even bother?” He grumbles, though based on the look in his eyes, Selina can tell he wants to take the words back the second they come out of his mouth. “Fuck, wait-”
“You do need me,” She argues, leans forward, and and jabs a finger into his armored chest. “It’s just not for the reasons you claim.”
“And yet, you always answer when I call,” He snaps.
“Why don’t we leave it at that if you’re going to be defensive like this? There’s nothing else to say.”
“Selina, you know… You know how I feel. You can tell just by looking at me, you’ve always been able to see through this front I put on, and I know you’re not stupid. I want you, need you, and you’re right; the reason I keep initiating all this contact with you for work purposes is because I want an excuse to see you even though you’re always traveling, and I’m scared to try to start something real with you. It would’ve been easier if you’d stayed, but you’re always gone… I never see you unless it’s like this, which is few and far between these days,” A sigh falls from in between his lips. The words are rushed, clumsy, and laced with fear. “It’s not the same as it was.”
“Then why are we still doing this shit? We both know you don’t need my help; you were doing just fine on your own before we met. So why? Why did you even call me to help you tonight?”
“I already told you that I just wanted to see you… To know that you’re well. I worry about you.”
“Well… I’m fine. You’ve seen me. So, you can go home now, right? Or are we already there? If that’s the case, then I can go-” Selina stands abruptly, only for the vigilante to stand along with her and grab her by the wrist to keep her in place.
“No, I- We need to talk about this, about us , about what we were-” He starts, and she jerks her arm out of his grip, only for him to put his hands on her shoulders in a manner so grounding that it makes her dizzy.
“I don’t even know your name, and you clearly don’t trust me, so why bother?” Selina scoffs and pushes his hands off of her. “I don’t want to talk about the way that it was when we first met.”
“Why not?”
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for her to respond. She remains standing, shifts her weight between her two feet, stares up at the gaudy chandelier and down at the pristine carpet, worries her lip and the inside of her cheek, pretends to check her nails, and finally, she makes eye contact with him again before crumbling under the intensity and yearning of his stare.
“I miss it,” She confesses with a defeated huff. “I miss you when I know I shouldn’t, and it hurts. I hate that I’d rather be with you and all your bullshit than be by myself-”
“Don’t lie to me. You don’t have to be by yourself; you could drop me at any time and have whoever you want.”
“But I want you.”
The temptation to fall forward and into his arms is very much present, but gravity holds her back, and she remains standing straight. Still, she holds out the palm of her hand, and though Batman takes it and holds it within his own, he hesitates. The gesture isn’t as comforting as she wishes it were- his hands are just like the rest of him; cold and coarse and covered by the leather of the batsuit he wears. Regardless, Selina knows she’s no good alone, no good without him, because without him, most of her days would be spent alone in Bludhaven or wherever else, ignoring her phone and surrounded by pills. She realizes that Batman is irreplaceable to her, so even though everything in their lives seems to get in the way, she stays by his side.
“And I want you, too… Selina. Why don’t we just stay as we are?”
“I’m not going to keep doing this bullshit where you skirt around who you are and only call me when it’s convenient for you. It’s not fair to either of us. If you want a relationship, let’s have a relationship… I want to know the real you.”
Batman isn’t stupid, so he figures out what she wants and reacts quickly.
“I can’t-”
“But you can ,” Selina pushes. “You just don’t want to. You’re scared.”
She’s been dying to know who Batman really is from the start. Meanwhile, said Batman is dying to keep his identity a secret. It made sense when they first met- they hardly knew each other, after all- but with how close they’ve gotten and how much trust she’s put into him, it hurts Selina that he doesn’t seem to return the sentiment no matter what she says or does. It hurts that she’s let her walls down in front of him and all she knows under the get up is the color of his eyes and the way his lips feel against hers. She hasn’t seen his cheeks when he blushes or ran her fingers through his hair, traced absent-minded patterns into the small of his bare back or admired his many scars, wiped the smeared make-up off of his face after a long night of fighting crime or given him a massage. She’s not only dying to know who he is, but what he looks like, feels like, and what it would be like to be with him and not with Batman for once.
“You’ll be disappointed,” Batman’s gaze is askew as he puts his hands on her waist. She lets him- leans into the touch, even, resting her head against his shoulder with a soft smile. “And you won’t like what you see, or what I have to offer you. You deserve better.”
“I’d rather be disappointed than strung along.”
“And I can trust you?” He inquires, clearly in reference to whether or not he can trust her to keep the secret that is his true identity.
“Don’t you already?” Selina laughs.
“Don’t hate me,” He says, though it sounds like more of a desperate plea than anything. Selina only shrugs. “Please?”
“I can’t make any promises.”
“Fine, then. I just hope you don’t regret this.”
With that, he’s removing his hands from her hips and removing the cowl in one fluid movement. He tosses it to the ground and avoids Selina’s prying eyes as she takes each and every feature in; greasy, messy, flat locks of hair colored like coffee, high cheekbones, a heavy maude blush, a sharp and wide-set jaw, plump and rosy lips, sea-foam eyes with beautifully long lashes surrounded by smeared eyeliner and eyeshadow, and a strong, masculine nose. At first, it almost doesn’t register, but then she’s suddenly hit with the reason why she always thought looking into his eyes seemed so familiar; he’s Bruce Wayne , who she’s seen on the news every goddamn day doing philanthropic rich guy bullshit following the Riddler attacks.
“What…? No way,” She gasps, hazel eyes wide, sunkissed hands on his face. She’s exploring each and every inch of his face with her palms and fingers, almost as if she expects to find the seams to another mask that she can make him pull off to reveal someone else. But no, all she finds is pale, clammy skin, some of it covered in a copious amount of black makeup that smudges her fingertips and stains them black. “No fucking way.”
“What? You’re scaring me,” Batman- no, Bruce - shifts uncomfortably and refuses to look at her.
“You’re Bruce Wayne,” Selina whispers as her face contorts into an expression of shock and uncertainty. Her hands have stopped moving, simply resting on the sides of his face, her thumbs tracing the shape of his high cheekbones. She knew from the start that whoever Batman was must’ve been loaded or at least been sponsored by someone who was, but for Batman to be Bruce Wayne? It’s catching her by surprise, to say the least. “Are we at Wayne manor right now?”
“Yes.”
For another few moments, all Selina can do is stare. She’s always lumped Bruce Wayne into the category of rich guy who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else . The realization that she’s wrong makes her cringe in embarrassment, and the realization that she finds the man in front of her more attractive than ever is even worse.
“Shit…” Selina allows her eyes to fall shut and slowly shakes her head. “I can’t fucking believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“That I’m still attracted to you. I always thought Bruce Wayne was really greasy looking.”
“Am I- Am I not?”
“No, you are. It’s just… Weirdly endearing now.”
“So?” He whispers, nervous for the resolution.
“I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re thinking, and I’m not disappointed like you thought I’d be, either.”
Bruce stares at the floor as his Adam’s apple bobs with the forced, nervous swallow he does. Selina simply watches him, wondering if he’s always this self-conscious and nervous when someone merely looks at him despite having been in the spotlight of Gotham’s many media sources for a couple decades now. Maybe he’s just not used to people truly looking at him, looking into his heart and being as intimate with him as Selina has been- not that they’ve done anything too intimate in a long time; just a stolen kiss here and there, the occasional hand squeeze, longing looks sent in each other’s directions, too scared to cross the unspoken boundary that’s been there since she left Gotham.
But things are different now, aren’t they?
After a little too long, Selina lets out a deep breath through her nose before using her hands on either side of his face to tilt his head down. Gently forced to, Bruce’s eyes meet Selina’s, sea-foam pouring into hazel. He blinks down at her with his long, inky lashes fluttering against his high cheekbones.
“That’s good,” He says- just like her, taking a little too long- and his voice is low and wispy as a ghost of a smile takes over his chapped lips. “Because neither do I.”
“Prove it to me,” Selina means for her words to come out sultry and confident, but they don’t. Instead, they’re murmured with restraint. She quickly looks away with heat coming to her cheeks, and all Bruce does is smile and lean down to meet her eyes again. “Be the one to say it first. Don’t make me be the one who makes every first move.”
This time, he doesn’t hesitate.
“I love you, Selina.”
After a moment, Selina smiles at Bruce, and he smiles back.
“I love you, too.”